for my SnowHarry psychic bond fic from last year’s Snowells Week! It’s finally finished, woo-hoo!
title: Open Mind For A Different View
pairing: Caitlin/Harry
fic summary: Takes place during the beginning of season 5. Separated by universes, both Caitlin and Harry begin to experience some strange things about each other.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
caitlin/harry fic! (a quick one shot, 680 words, G-rated, light angst with a hopeful ending)
Summary: Summer is the only time Caitlin gets the reins on her body, while Killer Frost takes control of her for the rest of the year.
Every summer, she goes back to Central City, and every time, Harry Wells is there for her.
Central City is dry to the bone in the summers. She remembers every time she comes back to it. Caitlin feels it even when she’s on the train. She brings two bottles of water with her—the extra, in case, she doesn’t find a place to refill her first. Three seems excessive. Risky, even. So, she sticks with the two.
She finishes both before the train even arrives.
She sees a familiar face waiting for her at arrivals, dressed in all-black despite the pounding heat.
“Harry,” she smiles into the hug, completely melting into his arms. She doesn’t want to let go. It’s started to end before it’s even begun.
“Caitlin, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she says into his shoulder. She’s expecting the usual questions—the ‘how are you’s, or ‘how have you been’s—which she can never give a real answer to.
No, she still doesn’t know what her frosty alter ego has been up to the other nine months of the year. On the run, committing crimes across the country, hurting people. Caitlin can’t bring herself to think about it too much. She’s just grateful that whenever summer comes around, Frost loses control of her body and Caitlin Snow can have it back.
A lot of change happens in nine months. She ends up feeling like a tourist in her own city every time she comes back from whatever city Frost last left her in. This time, it was Washington. Caitlin never really sticks around to let things catch up with her. She just takes the first train back to the city she once called home.
They’re in Harry’s car, sitting together in silence, until he says, “You know, this year, summer’s predicted to last approximately up to thirteen days longer than usual.”
“An extra two weeks,” Caitlin acknowledges. “I don’t think I packed enough clothes for that.”
Harry smiles wryly. “We can make arrangements for that.”
More silence.
“I think the next few years, the trend is meant to continue, you know. Melting ice caps, etcetera, etcetera—”
“Aren’t you supposed to be finding a solution to all that?” Caitlin says, trying to keep it light. “You have all the resources in S.T.A.R Labs, Barry has the city under control. I think as scientists, we should all prioritize protecting the state of the planet.”
“Yes, well, some of us can’t even protect our loved ones—” he gestures at Caitlin in a huff.
“Harry.”
He runs a hand through his hair and pulls over on the side of the road.
“Hey,” she leans in, sweeping the side of his head with her fingers. “I might only be here for the summer, but I want to help. As much as I can. Do you still have my research from last year?”
“The one you nearly finished before Frost came back—yes, yes, I do.”
“And? Did you manage to finish the technology to manipulate cryo-matter?”
Harry looks at her, lips pursed. “Did I finish it—Caitlin. Who do you think I am?”
She laughs, “You were the one who was all doom and gloom just a second ago!”
He leans in, finally relaxing to her fingers, now trailing to the back of his head. His voice is quiet as he tells her, “I am still missing the key to the biological convergence, though. So it might just solve our climate change problem, but not the other—Killer problem. I think I might need a specialist.”
“Don’t know where you’d find one,” Caitlin says, lips trailing in closer into his. Their noses touch and she can feel his glasses pressing into her forehead.
“That’s a real shame,” he answers.
Their lips finally meet—and Caitlin feels like she’s woken up from the eternal winter she’s been trapped in. Harry’s a full-on summer storm in her mouth and this is her favourite season, the only one where she’s able to truly, fully, live, as herself.
Every summer, she comes back wanting more. This year, she’s going to make it last the rest of the year.
Title: we can learn to love again (just give me a reason) pt 2.
Pairing: snowells || snowharry
Part: 2/2
Word count: 14 060 (entire fic - 25, 900)
Information: very loosely based on ‘the wedding date’
Dedication: to serena - @reeseneseira - merry christmas, here is the conclusion of your birthday present. Which could have been a wonderful christmas present if I was, you know, actually finished by christmas. love ya.
pt 1 // ao3 // ffn
She wakes up warm, his arms still around her waist, his nose pressed against her neck. It sends a delightful thrill down her spine and she is struck by the urge to turn around in his hold, to wake him up by peppering kisses across his jaw and cheeks, for him to feel as she felt now. It scares her, after only knowing him for a handful of days, and she stiffens, pulling away from his touch. Caitlin can't resist turning around, breath held as she watches to see whether she'd woken him up. She hadn't, but a frown slips across his face, hands shifting, as though looking for her. Something twists in her, seeing him slightly unsettled at the loss of her body. She doesn't give herself time to reflect on what it is.
He is awake when she emerges from the shower, his laptop open as he scans through his emails, barely a flicker to her so engrossed in his work. It stings slightly, the lack of reaction at her presence. "Hey Harry," she starts.
"Snow," he grunts.
"What's the plan for today?" He murmurs noncommittally, brushing her off and it hurts. Hurts because she expected more, hurts because she had thought their relationship had progressed from more than purely business - but apparently not. She doesn't say anything to him, ducking out of the room, eyes stinging and jaw clenched to bite back her emotions.
She finds her way to the kitchen, Caitlin looking through their drawers to find something to eat, her stomach rumbling. She hears him before she sees him, Caitlin stilling as the feet stop by the doorway. She knows he's watching her, can envision him leaning against the door post, glasses sitting crookedly, hair wild as he scrutinises her every move. And she is too vulnerable, too afraid of what was happening between them.
"Did I offend you this morning?" His voice finally rings out, Caitlin standing up completely as she hears the sound.
"No." She is short, angry more at herself than with him, that she would be so affected by a man she had known by name only six weeks ago. He approaches her and she moves around, searching for a bowl and spoon, determined to not show her face to him, emotions still too raw to hide. But Harry is determined, standing behind her, hands on her shoulders guiding her around.
"Snow." she stills, watching his eyes flicker to the stairs. He moves closer, too close, and before she could take a step back Harry takes her face into his hands, tilting her head up. Her breath hitches, and her mouth is slightly open. It stuns Caitlin, he stuns Caitlin, this moment of intimacy never expected. He plans on saying something, he truly does, but she distracts him, Caitlin with those doe eyes and parted mouth, with lips that look soft to touch, to kiss.
She doesn't hear feet thundering down the stairs, too distracted by the thundering of her heart in her chest.
"I - oh." And there is Jesse, watching them both, eyes wide. She backs away, apologising to them before turning on her heel and sprinting out of the room, back up the stairs. "I'm coming down in ten minutes," she screams from the top. "Please be done by then. I'm hungry." Then her door slams shut, clear even from the kitchen.
Harry grins, chuckling at her antics. "She doesn't know that her floorboard creak when she moves around in her old room." Her face falls, Caitlin taking a step backward, out of his touch. "What?" He sounds confused. "Wasn't it a good thing for her to catch us?"
"Yeah," she replies, smile tight, voice struggling to leave her mouth. "That was a good thing, very good." But she says it too fast, nods too vigourously, turns too quickly.
"Snow," he calls out, but she ignores him, focussing instead on her muesli and "Snow, talk to me." There is a moment that passes, heavy with things he didn't yet understand. "Please." It is a hoarse whisper, desperation leaking into his tone. He doesn't expect that to happen, for there to be so much emotion attached to that one word. To her.
It is enough to break her resolve however. "I guess it's strange spending more than one night with a client." It's odd hearing him referred to as a client, even from her own lips. "I'm not really sure what to expect."
"Did - " The words are difficult to get out. "Did you want to stop?" The idea of that happening, of Caitlin jumping into a plane and flying off frightens him more than he imagined it would.
"No." And the words should comfort him, but she won't look at him, rummaging through the fridge for some yogurt and fruits.
"Caitlin." It is then she turns around, slowly, deliberately, taking steps towards him until she was before his face. She lifts up her hand, stroking his cheek, the slight stubble prickling against her palm. His eyes flutter closed at her touch, his hands finding her sides.
"Harry," she whispers, voice low and thick. "Harry look at me." And he does, eyes vibrant and blue, stealing her breath away at its intensity. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you here, not now." He leans down, resting his forehead on her own, noses bumping against the other. He takes a shaky inhale and for the first time she wonders if he would truly care.
"Thank you." There is relief in his voice, and his breath is warm on her lips, ghosting her sensitive skin. Caitlin wonders what it would be like to kiss him, to tilt her head just a fraction up, to capture his lips with her own. Her eyelids feel heavy at the thought, her mind heady with the possibilities, but she doesn't move, choosing to relish the small moment, his forehead pressed against hers, his nose brushing against her own again, his grip on her waist tightening.
"Guys! I gave you ten minutes already. Find a room."
He almost retorts that they will when Caitlin's stomach growls, Jesse laughing as the older woman eyes her muesli ravenously. "I think we'll eat breakfast thank you." And they do, Caitlin sitting beside Harry, the pair of them stealing glances at each other, Harry's left hand on her right knee, his thumb rubbing circles on the outside. Jesse calls them out on their behaviour but all they do is exchange a smile, before resuming eating.
It's a good morning.
Harry apologises for abandoning her, work having issues he would need to sort out, and she accepts it graciously. She is a little lost without him, Jesse bouncing around, pleading with her to go shopping until Caitlin caves, a smile curling her lips at the joy in Jesse's expression at the acceptance. Harry waits for them by the door, Jesse throwing her arms around his neck, Harry hugging her back. Caitlin lurks behind, heart thumping as Jesse walks towards the car, turning to her, waiting. She smiles at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he senses her anxiousness, as she walks toward him. But he doesn't move. Not when she stands in front of him, a moment of hesitation before she leans forward, pressing her lips against his cheek. It is only a brief thing, yet she feels her heart leap, his skin prickly and dry against her skin. She feels his intake of breath, feels it against her skin, feels his chest rise, brushing against hers. It leaves her breathless, and she pulls away quickly, a light blush on her cheeks as she steals a glance backwards before joining Jesse on the pathway, the pair of them jumping into a car and driving off.
They go into town, Jesse tugging her into all the shops, forcing Caitlin to try on clothes for her amusement. She attempts to put up a fight, she truly does, but Jesse moans about the pains of searching for a wedding dress ruining all chances she could enjoy the experience herself. And Caitlin curses those big, wide eyes of Jesse's, pleading with her to do it.
They shop around, a lot, Jess pulling things from the racks and throwing them to Caitlin, the girl eager to see Caitlin model the outfits. And, she muses, Jesse does have good taste. They walk for hours, Jesse distracted on her phone as they wander through another department store. There is an itch to call her out on it, to question what exactly had stolen Jesse's attention away, but she keeps silent, unsure of the boundaries. She had never had a client with a daughter Jesse's age, never lived with them for anything longer than overnight. She isn't sure what to do or how to act, and so she does nothing at all, continuing to shop. Caitlin is startled out of her musing with a dress thrust before her eyes, Jesse bouncing up and down in excitement as Caitlin takes the material from her hand.
"No." It's a belated reply, Caitlin examining the dress before realising just what Jesse wanted her to do. "No, no, no." She tries to push it back to Jesse, encouraging her to wear it instead.
Jesse rebuffs her attempts, pouting, eyes wide as she pleads. "Come on Cait, please try it on. You don't even need to buy it, just let's see what it looks like." She must sense that Caitlin's determination wavers because she light up, a teasing voice as she continues. "And imagine my dad's reaction when he sees you in it. You could always buy it for him." She smiles so purely, but there is a flash of deviance in her eyes, and it leaves Caitlin on edge, suspicious of her action.
(She doesn't know why that is what convinces her to take it to the change rooms, but it does.)
In the room she loses her confidence, the dress hanging there, mocking her. She almost puts it on immediately, to remove the anticipation of doing it later on. But Jesse must sense her feelings, telling her through the door to leave it to last, pleading with her to start with the floral summer dress.
And so she does, come out after every dress, modelling them for an amused Jesse, lounging on a seat nearby, the younger woman critiquing each. The pile of clothes that she tries on grows, along with Jesse's distraction. Until there is one left.
The dress is... nice, so different from what she normally wears. It is strapless and red, a vibrant colour, silky against her skin. It's shorter than normal, cutting off mid thigh and she can't help but admire the dress, running her hands over the fabric, enjoying the texture. She calls out for Jesse, opening the door to show her the dress.
She startles when she sees Harry in the store, hovering near the hallway to the dressing rooms, talking to an assistant. Jesse is nowhere in sight.
She approaches him shyly, surprising him from the conversation. "Hello!" he exclaims, eyes raking over her form, something akin to desire burning in his eyes. "Please say you're buying it."
"How did you get here?" she asks in reply.
"I was bored at home," he says, leaving the attendant to approach her, eyes unable to stay still. But then he catches Caitlin's unamused look. "Okay," he confesses. "Something came up with Jesse with this -" he pauses, waving his hand around. "Wedding stuff and she didn't know how to tell you she was abandoning you. So she asked me to come and snuck out so she wouldn't have to tell you herself." She pouts, watching as he approaches her. He grabs her shoulders, turning her around and pushing Caitlin toward the change room, stopping when she was back inside, facing the mirror inside of it. "So, are you going to get the dress?"
"I'm not sure," she hesitates.
"Look at yourself," and she feels him coming up behind her, his warmth tempting, his presence intoxicating. "Because I see a wonderful, sexy woman in front of me who saw a dress she loved and had to try it on. And now she really needs to buy it."
"Jesse chose it actually," Caitlin interrupts, her ears bright red and her will crumbling. "Thought I should surprise you with it." The connotations are not lost on him, not with her voice pitching down, a salacious wink thrown at him through the mirror. His hands tighten into a fist in response, the urge to touch her striking him with such intensity. He can see it, see Caitlin wearing the dress in his room, their room, can imagine her standing in front of him, leaning against him as he drags the zipper down, sliding the dress down her body, the material pooling by her feet as she turns, her arms around his shoulders as she leans in for a kiss. Harry can see it, he wants it deeply, an ache in his chest at the knowledge it would only ever remain that, a desire.
"My daughter has excellent choice," he comments, eyes scanning over her in the mirror before them. He leans into her, lips against her ear as he whispers, "and I would love it if you bought it just for me." It's a low growl, and she whips her head to him, eyes wide as he chuckles, pulling away, leaving her alone and confused before the mirror, Caitlin turning, watching him disappear around the corner.
She leaves the change rooms, returning to the front of the store, frowning as she looks at Harry with a bag in his hands. He offers her the bag, a smirk on his face as she peers in, the red dress inside.
"So where are we going?"
It is dragged from her, Caitlin's eyes focussed on the outside of the car, the unfamiliar landscape surrounding her enchanting.
"I have some old friends in the area, they run a great little Italian restaurant." She turns her head, eyeing him, waiting for him to continue. "I figured I should at least take you on one date before the wedding." There is a twinkle in his eyes as he steals a glance at her, lingering as she meets it with a dimpled grin. The smile does't leave her lips, not when he looks away to watch the road, not when she turns her head to stare outside the window. It stays for the journey, stays throughout the dinner as they exchange stories of work, of theories and problems. He laughs at her anecdotes, a deep rich timbre that sends shivers down her spine, that elicits a warm smile from her.
She reaches over the table to take his hand, an impulsive decision that she doesn't regret, not when his voice stops for a moment, a look of awe flashing across his face. He shifts his hand, his thumb running over her knuckles as he picks up his story. The dinner was nice, the company better and she finds herself not wanting her time with him to end. And for a magical hour she feels like it won't, the pair enjoying a tiramisu, Caitlin swiping a spoon of Harry's gelato, laughing at his mock annoyance. They stay long after the food is finished and their wine bottle empty, exchanging their silent dreams and quiet wishes.
The car trip home is peaceful, a comfortable silence enveloping them, a smile never leaving her face or his, Harry tapping on the steering wheel after some time, needing a release for the energy inside him. Soon enough they arrive home, both hesitant to leave the car, afraid the bubble between them would break when they exit. But they must. They do.
He escorts her to the door, the pair of them lingering by the door. "Thanks for a great day Harry." She sounds shy, she is shy, and he would be confused if not for his own fast beating heart, nerves eating away inside him, feelings he hadn't felt for years. Caitlin shivers - from under his gaze or the breeze, she isn't quite sure. But then he lifts his hand, tucking the stray hairs behind her ear, thumb caressing her cheek all the while. The atmosphere is electric, and she wants to believe so badly it isn't just in her head, that his gaze really did drop to her mouth, that his lips really did part as she licked her own, the skin dry under her tongue.
But Harry drops his hand, clearing his throat he reaches into his pocket, grabbing the key and unlocking the door. She stands there, lost, confused as it swings open, Harry stepping inside. Leaving her out there. Alone.
The tension is palpable throughout the night, Jesse glancing between the two as they all settle on the couch for a cheesy sci-fi movie. They barely pay attention, Caitlin watching Harry, Harry facing the screen, pretending to watch the movie. Jesse jokes that they are more interesting than the film, earning herself twin glares from the pair. It follows them after the movie, up into their room, in their bed.
They find a semblance of normalcy in the morning - they are forced to, Jesse reminding them of the Christmas in July event Harry had planned. It was an excuse to have everyone over for that night, an excuse for Harry to have one last family dinner without needing to share her with the in-laws. He agreed to host it selfishly, and Caitlin laughs at his petulance at the idea of having to share Jesse with other people.
He knows Joe - he is friends with Joe - she says as though it would change the way he feels. Joe was coming to the dinner. He pouts and grumbles but he still is determined to have the event.
She is pushed out of the kitchen, laughing the entire time as he makes her promise to not return. She isn't that terrible with cooking she argues, but he stops at the entrance, spinning her around and looking her in the eye. "Snow, you and cooking are not meant for each other. Now leave." She bites back a snort of laughter, nodding at him.
"Decorations?" she suggests, his shoulders relaxing as he nods at her.
"Jesse can help you." She goes up stairs to find the younger girl, the pair of them spending hours decorating the dining room, setting up the Christmas tree and tinsel around the room and hallways. It's more exhausting than they had anticipated, the pair of them collapsing on the couch, Jesse flicking on the television. They watch for hours, grumbling to Harry about the scents wafting into the living room, complaining that they were hungry. Jesse had tried sneaking in, but quick as she is not even she could steal some food from the kitchen.
It was a miracle when the doorbell rang, the girl's rushing to open it up to their guests, Jesse shouting at Harry to finish because everyone was here and they were all hungry.
(Caitlin shushes them as they all start to protest that last point.)
And the dinner goes smoothly, Caitlin sitting on one side of him, Jesse on the other. He looks around the table, sees Wally and Cisco and Iris and Joe and Barry. He hears the laughter, watches them all smile at each other, relaxed.
And he gets it, he finally gets it.
They won't be just Jesse's family, and they won't be his own through default either. They are his family, had been for a long time now, each one of them worming their way into his heart in their own unique way. And Caitlin, he thinks. Caitlin most of all.
Harry isn't quite sure who moved the party from the dining room to the living space, everyone with a glass of alcohol in their hands, slightly tipsy. It's loud and cheerful and he doesn't want it to be anything but.
It is perfect.
He forgets entirely about the mistletoe Jesse and Caitlin had hung around the house.
... He remembers when he and Caitlin are caught underneath it, a devious Cisco arguing with the pair of them, backing away discreetly knowing that they would follow, pausing when they were under the foliage. Jesse approaches them, Cisco sticking his hand out for Jesse to slap it. They watch him confused, eyes following his gaze as it flickers up.
They spot it.
"Okay, Ramon. You're fired," Harry grumbles, trying to leave the spot, blocked by his ex-employee and daughter. The schemers.
"Come on dad," Jesse teases, her eyes alight in mischief. "Kiss her."
"Jesse." His voice is tight, and Caitlin takes his hand, squeezing it in reassurance. "I think public displays of affection is something we should leave for Wally and yourself."
"Dad," she says seriously, betrayed by the mirth dancing in her eyes. "I think it's a law somewhere." He scoffs. "Maybe not in this universe, but there is an Earth out there where it's an offence to not kiss under mistletoe."
"We're not from that Earth, are we Jesse?" But Caitlin tugs his hand, stealing his attention from his daughter. She gives him a pointed look, one that clearly reads don't bring too much attention to this and he sighs because she is right. The more he protests, the more suspicious everyone would be of their relationship. "Fine," he sighs, dragging the syllable.
And he does, ducking his head to find her lips. She meets him half way, head on the side as he captures her mouth against his own. He wants to keep it light and quick, but the temptation to give in, to kiss her like he had been imagining since the moment on the balcony, it is overwhelming. He pulls her closer and she follows his lead, leaning into him, her hands holding onto his shoulders, content to let him set the pace. He won't, too afraid to deepen it anymore, holding himself back - but he can't find it in himself to end it. Distantly he can hear whooping and cheering, a dulled noise barely heard over the rushing of blood in his ears and he doesn't want the moment to stop, doesn't want to return to a reality where she is only acting and their relationship is a farce. It is only because of necessity that it does end, Harry pulling away, eyes still closed as he rests his forehead on her own, struggling to control his breathing. He can feel her hot puffs of air against his neck.
Finally he lifts his head and opens his eyes, taking her in. She is flushed, gnawing at her bottom lip as she watches him carefully. "That was -" He clears his throat, the husky tone taking him by surprise.
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, ducking her head. "Yeah."
He sneaks out of his own party, slipping into the kitchen and away from the others. It was difficult to be there, difficult to pretend he was invested in their conversations, to give them a proper thought and response. But he can't concentrate, not after feeling her soft lips against his own, the way she whimpered as he pulled away, the feel of her hands clasping his shirt between her fingers. It was enough to drive him insane.
He sighs, wiping his face with his hand, determining to find himself another drink.
But then she walks in, relief filling her face at the sight of him. So she'd been looking then, he thinks. My disappearance was noticeable.
"So, this is where you've disappeared." There is a smile on her face, but it falls the moment he shifts his body to the side, not facing his back toward her, but still turning away.
"I just - I needed time alone."
"Are you okay Harry?" He can place the concern in her voice, the worry. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, the care is genuine.
"Yes, it's just -" Steeling himself up he takes a deep breath and continues. "About the kiss." Her head jerks up at his words, panic in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have caved into their pressure and you didn't have to go through with it for me." She relaxes somewhat, shoulders still tense.
"Don't worry about it," she replied. "It's not the first time I've had a date do that to me." But the words don't have the intended affect.
"Oh," he says, his voice tight. "You do that to most clients..." Her brows furrow, watching him in confusion, until they clear up.
"Are you jealous Harry?" she exclaims, eyes twinkling. "You're thinking about me with all those other men." He hadn't been, not until she said it. But then that's all he could think of, young men spinning her around at the wedding receptions, steal kisses and giggles from her. "You are!"
"No," he tries to pull away.
"Come on Harry." Her hands were on his arms holding him, refusing to let go. "I was only teasing you, don't leave."
"Of course you were," he bites back, turning on his heel to face her. He doesn't think about how she still hadn't let go of his arm, Caitlin stumbling into his chest at his movements. "But I think you should be more focussed on your performance than riling me up, clearly you aren't good enough of an actress. I was bad at the beginning, but you blush every time I touch you! How are we supposed to seem in love when you get so affected with the smallest things?" He huffs out an exhale, closing his eyes as he tries to steady his breathing.
She leans toward him, hands sliding up his chest, fiddling with the tie wrapped around his neck. His breathing stills. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful eyes?" She whispers the words, dragging her gaze up to lock contact with him, teeth worrying her bottom lip, as she searches for something within them. "So clear and blue," she whispers distractedly, leaning closer into him, unflinching as his hands find her hips, tugging her closer. "I feel like I could drown in them sometimes." He doesn't realise he's moved until she tilts her head up, eyelids fluttering closed, her breath ghosting across his lips. They were closer, a lot closer, mouths only a hairbreadth apart. "Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning whenever you're near." He's going to kiss her, he most definitely is, and he thinks that she may be going to reciprocate it and -
"Hey guys - woah. Crap."
"Allen," Harry growls, not moving from his position. "Get. Out." from his peripheral he can see the young man lift up his hands in surrender, backing out of the room, but the moment had been shattered, Caitlin extracting herself from his hold, cheeks red even as she smirks victoriously at him.
"You seem more affected by such small things now," she retorts. It is like ice down his spine, the idea that she was just doing this to prove a point.
"This is not a game Snow," he snaps. He pulls away from her hold, backing away from her as though her touch were acidic.
"Harry!" But he doesn't listen to her, storming out of the room, Jesse popping her head in a few moments later, seeing a bewildered Caitlin still in the same place as before.
"What happened?"
"I don't know," Caitlin responds, "I really don't know."
He doesn't go to bed that night.
He isn't there in the morning either.
Caitlin isn't much of a drinker.
It's Barry's text that worries Harry, his mind jumping to all these different conclusions. He did eventually come home the next day, a text from Jesse telling him that they'd all left the house to go on her bachelorette party the only thing that could convince him to slink home. He is embarrassed and hiding in his lab downtown was a habit he had yet to break. But they had been gone for hours and Barry's text sends his mind into overdrive. He is ready to leave, to find her and make sure she's safe, to make sure she's alive. But when he opens the door Barry is there, a drunk Caitlin hanging off of his arm, smiling at the sight of Harrison Wells.
"Harry," she singsongs, beaming at him. She abandons Barry who has a grin on his face, in favour of Harry. He stumbles under her weight, very much aware of how short her dress is, that red dress, and how much she was leaning into his body, and he wills it not to respond. He slips on the coat in his hands over her body, trying to cover her up, the chilly weather nipping at his own skin.
"I'll be going now." Damn Allen, a smug smirk on his face as he whistles, turning on his heel and walking back to his car, leaving Caitlin and himself alone in front of his house. She leans on him, stumbling as they enter the front door, turning into the living room and collapsing on the couch. He turns to her then, takes in the hair and dress. She cowers from him, hides herself. But she steals glances at him, scrutinising, unsure. He wipes his face with the palm of his hands, but he can't find it in himself to leave her.
"What is it Snow?" he finally snaps, a growl in his voice.
"You don't like me." There is sadness in her voice, a disappointment. Her words don't make any sense.
"What?"
"You ran away from me," she pouts, curling up into herself.
He sighs. Harry isn't sure whether to say anything, but their relationship couldn't appear strained, couldn't attract any more attention towards it. And so he tells her the truth. "Snow, I was jealous." The words were strange on his tongue, his heart twisting as he hears them out loud from his mouth. "I was jealous that there were younger, more attractive men - you could have any man you wanted, and I wanted it to be me. It's not, but god I wanted it."
"You want me?" and the confusion in her tone gets to him.
"Of course I do." He feels guilty admitting those words, but the relief that it was out there, that he didn't need to pretend around her anymore. "You're brilliant Snow, special. How could I not?"
She leans forward, cutting him off with a kiss. it takes him by surprise, and he can't find it in himself to move away from her, to move at all. It only when she pulls away from him, eyes downcast that he realises what is happening, what she just did. She is pulling away from the couch and he can't have that, can't stand the thought of it occurring. Without conscious thought he finds himself reaching over, hand on her bicep, tugging her closer to him. She stumbles in her movements, Caitlin falling onto his lap, a quiet 'oof' leaving her mouth at the impact. His hands move to steady her, one reaching for her waist, the other landing on the bare skin of her thigh. He looks down to their point of contact, regretting it as he sees the hem of the dress having slid up higher than it was before, exposing more skin to his eyes and hands. He sucks in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. But it does nothing to the memory burned on the back of his eyelids, and he can feel himself starting to react.
She senses the shift just as much as he does, can feel it against her. She watches him, watches the struggle play out on his face, watches as he slowly open his eyes, her own darkening as she meets his gaze, dropping down to his lips before biting on her own. "I want you Harry," she whispers, leaning closer to him, leaning closer even as he pulls away, straining his neck as he presses it against the couch behind him.
"You're drunk Snow." It is a grunt, forced out from his lips.
"Not as drunk as you think," she retorts and he can hear the change in her voice already. "If you rejected me I would have played it off as being drunk, but you didn't." She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, looking at him through hooded eyes.
She shifts herself closer, shifts her leg over his thighs, straddling Harry. "Caitlin," he warns, but it isn't so much of a warning as a groan, a wicked smile spreading across her face at the name. She kisses him again, movements more heated, Caitlin licking the seam of his lips, tongue sweeping into his mouth. And this time he responds, hands clutching and exploring, the kiss bruising. He holds her tightly, mouth moving in sync with her own, Harry determined to memorise every noise she makes, to remember the way she tastes. But Caitlin pulls away, resting the top of her head on the couch beside his own, panting beside his ear, driving him crazy.
"I want you Harry," she whimpers. "I've wanted you since the moment you called me asking to be your date." she moves, biting his ear. "I touched myself that night thinking about your voice." And he was strong, but he also is human, resolve cracking at her confession, flashes of visions behind his eyelids, Caitlin naked and alone, his voice in her mind, his name on her tongue.
His lips crash into hers, hands cupping the side of his face, pulling her closer, never letting go.
"Caitlin," he groans as she grinds herself against him, his hands moving to her hips instinctively, guiding her movements. But then she stills.
"Come on," she murmurs, lips brushing against his earlobe. "Let's go to bed."
She leaves him on the couch, her high heels clattering on the ground. She drops the jacket he gave her, climbing the stairs while reaching behind her, the zipper goes down. Harry follows her belatedly, the lack of Caitlin in his vision snapping him into action. He jumps over the shoes and jacket, leaving them scattered across the floor in favour of reaching her faster. When he nears the top he sees something else, Harry reaching out to pick up the red satin from the top stair, swearing as he lifts up the dress she was wearing minutes earlier. He clutches it as he continues to walk toward his room, pushing the door open.
And he sees her there in matching black lingerie, lying on his bed (their bed) leaning on her elbows as she watches him enter the room, the red material now on the floor.
"Hello," he whispers to himself, stopping at the edge of the bed, watching as she pushes herself onto her knees, shuffling to the edge as well. And he can't help himself, tugging her in for a kiss, running his fingers delicately up her spine, Caitlin arching in response, pressing her chest into his own. She whimpers against his lips and reluctantly he pulls away from her lips.
Bright blue eyes, normally so clear are now dark, Harry letting go of her so she could tug his shirt upward, his glasses getting lost in the movement. She grins at him, reaching behind her. He stops her, his own covering hers, fingers fumbling with the clasp. "Sorry," he murmurs, "it's been a while since I've -" She shuts him up with a kiss, her lips bruising against his own, hands unsettled. She slides them up his chest and down his shoulders, cups the side of his neck, runs through his hair. He succeeds finally, pulling the scrap of black lace off of her body, laying her down on the bed as he hovers over her, kissing and licking and biting and sucking every inch of exposed skin he could, Caitlin whimpering and squirming underneath him.
And they move together all night, never separating for long, never separating far.
She awakens, body aching and content. She awakens alone.
Caitlin reaches over to the other side of the bed, eyes still closed as she smiles to herself. But she finds air and a cold bed.
"Harrison Wells." She storms into the room like a hurricane, flying toward him. He barely has time to turn around before she is there, her hands on his face, tugging him toward her. It takes him by surprise, arms staying uselessly by his side as he tries to process what exactly was happening. But then she sucks on his bottom lip, tugging at him, and it all falls into place. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer. It feels as though it were the last time, the desperation in the embrace, hands tight enough to bruise, the desperation, the need. She finds herself being lifted onto the kitchen counter-top, legs wrapping around his waist as she pulls him closer.
The coughs in the background snap them back onto the present, Caitlin hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder when she spots Jesse and Wally sitting at the table a few feet away, mild disgust on Jesse's expression, amusement on Wally's. "I didn't know we had company," she whispers, leaning into his warmth. And to Jesse, "I thought you were sleeping at Iris' last night."
Jesse wrinkles her nose at Caitlin's words. "Oh ew. Clearly. But Iris and Barry were being disgustingly cute and Wally didn't know I was there, so I came here to meet him and we grabbed pancakes."
"You should have stopped me." There is no accusation in her whisper, only embarrassment at having been so physical in front of others.
"I... forgot."
"Glad to know we're so forgettable," Wally laughed, a cheeky grin on his face as Harry turns to glare at him.
"Well when I've officially lost my appetite," Jesse grumbles, pushing her plate away from her. She turns to Wally, who sighing, does so as well, stealing longing glances at his half eaten plate as she drags him out of the room. Out of the house.
And they were alone.
"What was that all about?" He doesn't move from his position, instead running his hands up and down her outer thigh, eliciting a soft sigh from her.
"You left me. Alone. I didn't - " She takes a deep breath. "I'm not that type of escort Harry, I don't do that with any of my clients but you..." She pauses, dropping her eyes to his chest, watching as she slides her hands back up his torso and around his neck. "I like you. I wanted you." Caitlin twirls a lock for his hair on her finger. "I still do." It comes out rough, her heels pushing him closer to her, the distance between them shrinking.
He sucks in a breath. "Well," voice husky. "I think that's going to have to wait."
She groans in reply, pulling away and pouting at him. "Why?"
"There is a wedding rehearsal we have to prepare for."
"I'm sure we have some time," she sing-songs, leaning forward to press a kiss just underneath his jawline.
They use that time wisely.
The wedding rehearsal goes off without a hitch, and in an uncharacteristic bout of openness, Harry tells them all there would be drinks at his home in an hour, most people unable to make it, but a few friends making their way over to the mansion. He drives over, contently humming as Caitlin sits in the passenger seat, singing off key to whatever music had been playing on the radio.
He adores it, taking her hand in his own, unable to go through the drive without touching her, feeling her. Reminding himself that this was his reality.
He steals a kiss from her, smirking at the dazed look in her eyes as he pulls away. She pouts at his reaction, hooking her arms around his neck, rising on her toes and pulling him down, meeting him for another. It's longer than the first, Caitlin relaxing against him, sighing against his lips as they pull away. It's a moment of perfection, Harry's arms winding around her waist, holding her against him, his eyes shining as he looks down on her.
"Okay, you guys are nauseous." They turn to their intruder, Cisco sucking a lollipop, grinning wildly at them. "Like, more than usual. What up with you?" Harry glares at him, encouraging the smile to widen.
"I didn't sleep over last night," Jesse chimes in, Wally by her side, the pair chuckling at the disgusted look on Cisco's face as he realises their implication, Caitlin blushing, burying her face in Harry's chest.He wraps his arms around her, tugging her closer, resting his chin on top of her head.
"Okay, your fun is over, drop it Ramon."
Cisco raises his hands in surrender, his smile remaining as he continues. "I'm just saying, you guys must be disgusting at work. We've had you guys for a week, I can't imagine having to see that every day." A moment then, "I'm going to regret taking that job in STAR Labs aren't I?" He grimaces at the thought, and Harry has to restrain the urge to throw something at him.
"I work for Mercury Labs Cisco," Caitlin says, voice muffled by Harry's chest. He moves his head, looking down at her, Caitlin rigid in his arms.
"Yeah. I know. Me and Tina go way back -" At Harry's look, he amends his statement. "Okay Harry knows her well. But still - it's not that far away from STAR Labs." She disentangles herself from Harry's hold, an emotionless look on her face as she faces Cisco. Harry misses her touch. "Wait," Cisco starts. "Are you saying you've never visited each other at work?"
"We're professionals Ramon. Now drop it." The threat is clear in his voice, and Cisco listens, a weak smile directed towards them in apology.
But the damage is done.
Caitlin is silent throughout the rest of the conversation, Harry glancing at her throughout it, confused by her silence and frosty behaviour. She doesn't smile, doesn't laugh, doesn't react. She simply exists. They conversation ends, Jesse and Wally walking around, thanking everybody for their time, Cisco's face dropping as he spots Hartley, leaving the couple to hide from the other man.
Harry feels Caitlin stiffen beside him as they are slowly left alone. He tries wrapping his arm around her, the rejection of his affection a sting to his heart. He knows something is wrong, knows that something in those few minutes set off something inside her, and it worries him, scares him because he doesn't know what it was or how to fix it. And god, how he wants to. He says her name, whispers it, his concern leaking into his tone, a brokenness he doesn't try to hide. He wants to ask what's wrong, he wants to not need to - wants for her to come to him on her own volition and tell him what's plaguing her thoughts.
None of those things take place, Caitlin stumbling through an excuse, rushing to the bathroom, allowing herself to breathe. He hopes that she will calm down while she hides from him, that she'll return to him the way she was at the beginning of the night. He knows none of it will happen. He hopes anyway.
Caitlin does return to him after a while, sliding an arm around his waist when he was talking to Barry and Iris. The couple laugh as he lights up, teasing them about young love and the rush of euphoria every time you would catch glimpse of the other. He enjoys their ribbing, looking fondly to his side to watch Caitlin, but the look slowly does away, the smile on her lips not reaching her eyes, her eyes calculating. She's figuring out how to play them, he realises, a cold chill dancing down his spine. He had paid her to be his date and she wasn't reneging on the contract, even it was all an act.
(He reminds himself that it was supposed to be an act,
but he had fooled himself.)
It is eating him up inside, this shift from Caitlin. She plays her part well, integrating with the team - but her laugh is empty, her touch cold, her affection dead. And he selfishly wants her to go back to how she was before, how they were before, free to touch and kiss and tease. Jesse watches him, watches them worried, and he knows it is him that is ruining the charade, that he was failing to play the part of a doting partner when all he wants to be is the doting partner to a woman who was determined for him to be anything but. Caitlin startles him from the dark path his thoughts descended into, a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and a tight smile as she turns her attention to
And soon, he couldn't stand her presence.
Jesse finds him alone in his room, Harry having walked onto the balcony connected to it, staring outside the window, taking solace in the stars above him. She takes a seat beside him, a worried look on her expression as she sees the effect it is having on him, the creases in his forehead deeper, Harry moving his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Dad, what's wrong?" Jesse asks cautiously, fidgeting and unable to look him in the eyes as he turns to her."Why is Caitlin acting so cold?"
"There's nothing wrong Jesse, we're fine." He sounds so tired, and he is - the thought of Caitlin like this exhausting him, the struggle of determining what exactly triggered this, taking its toll.
"Did you have a fight after me and Wally left the house. What did you do?" He stiffens at the accusation, turning his head to face his daughter. She can see the pain in his eyes, her hand taking his own, squeezing it in apology.
"Why are you assuming it's me?" It's hoarse, eyes flashing in anguish. And it hurts both of them; Jesse had never seen him so out of sorts, so lost, and Harry... he hadn't felt this way in years. "I didn't do anything Jesse. I - I don't know what happened."
Her eyes search his own, her shoulders falling as she finds the truth lurking inside the bright blue orbs. "You're right," she sighs. "She's probably realising that in a few days you'll never speak to each other again."
"What do you mean Jesse?" His voice is tense, a wariness in his eyes behind the pain.
"Well the wedding is tomorrow," she says slowly. "And Caitlin is probably assuming that after this she'll be going back to her normal life." A beat, then, "without you." There is a flash of shock, Harry wholly unprepared for the words that came out of her mouth.
"I - ah, I don't know what -" He flounders, unsure of his footing in the conversation, Jesse watching him with sad eyes.
"Come on dad, I wasn't born yesterday. I know you hired Caitlin to be your fake-girlfriend for the wedding." He is stunned silent and so she continues. "You were raving about this girl for weeks dad, about how perfect and intelligent and remarkable she was." Her voice trails off, eyes focussed on the stars above, twinkling in the clear sky. "I haven't seen you like that over anyone but mum, so happy and content." He hears a sniff, sees her move in his peripheral, wiping away her tears. "If you think I wasn't going to check her out and make sure she was just as perfect as you thought, you don't know me at all."
He folds at her words, dropping the act. "I'm sorry Jesse - I just didn't want you to be burdened by your old, lonesome dad. Especially not at your wedding. I thought I was doing the best thing."
"Oh dad," she sighs, her arms going around his neck. He tuns into her embrace, Jesse leaning forward to rest her head on his shoulders. "I know dad, I get it. But I want you to be happy too. Seeing you happy is all I've ever wanted for you." There is a quiver in her voice, the words getting caught in her throat. "And I think I know you enough to know your happiness these few days wasn't faked... and I don't think her's was either." She lifts up her head, eyes red and puffy, make up starting to smudge. But there was an honesty in her eyes that gave him hope in that small moment.
"What do I do Jesse?" She shuffles closer to him, his arm winding around her shoulders, tugging Jesse closer. She tilts her head, resting on his shoulders. It brings back memories of years ago, of when she could do that without the risk of an ache in her neck later on. Of when it was the pair of them against the world. And now she was moving on -
"Tell her dad. Tell her how you feel, how you really feel. Because not knowing, that's the worst."
- if only he could do the same.
Caitlin enters the bedroom, her heels in her left hand, tipsy and content. But the smile playing on her lips dies when she sees the body in bed, Harry on his back. The door to the balcony was left open, a gentle breeze into the room blowing past her, the moonlight illuminating his sleeping frame.
It's weak, she knows it is, but she can't resist the urge. Caitlin leans against the doorframe, her head tilted as she lets herself watches him sleep, a faint smile on her lips. He stirs, scaring her into entering the room, her heart pounding in fear. She tries to act casual, dropping her heels on the ground near the bed, rummaging through her suitcase for a pair of pajamas.
"Snow?" His voice is rough with sleep, confusion tinging his voice. It sends a shiver down her spine.
"I'm here," she replies, moving her clothes around as though she were still looking, as though she hadn't found what she wanted immediately. "I'm just going to go change now, go back to sleep." She slips into the bathroom before he could get a word in, and she prays that he'll have drifted off by the time she emerges. But all her prayers are for nought, for when she leaves the safety of the bathroom she sees him sitting up in the bed, more alert than he was five minutes ago. She vows to not react to his presence, breaking it even as she whispers those words to herself, her heart thumping in her chest, the noise reverberating in her mind. She slides into the bed beside him, conscious of the fact she was well on her side of the bed, not touching him, not even close.
They sit there in silence, ever passing moment grating. "Snow," he says, breaking the quietness, "I don't know what I did, but if you could pretend to be in love with me, just for another day, it'd be much appreciated." The words tear through her heart, the brokenness in his voice, the loss and confusion and desperation to fix what he didn't break.
She moves without realising, cupping his face, thumbs gliding over his cheekbones, relishing in the feeling of his skin under her fingerpads. "Oh Harry." Her voice is thick and she hates it, hates that she's been reduced into a mess. It's when his eyelids flutter closed at her touch, that her actions fully settle, Caitlin retracting her hands, cuddling them against her chest, unwilling to look at his face when she knows that he'll be opening his eyes, gaze scrutinising as he watches her. "I shouldn't have done that." Her voice is wooden. It is cold, an ice shard into his chest. "I'm sorry."
He sighs at her words, turning away from her, resting the back of his head on the headboard. "No don't be," he replies, a resignation in his tone. He turns in the bed, his back toward her as he closes his eyes, willing the day to end. He is at the borderline of consciousness and sleep, crossing over easily, Caitlin's voice echoing in his mind as he takes that final step.
"Okay," she says. "I'll do it."
And she does.
He wakes up the next morning, a warmth blooming in his chest as he awaken, sight blurry as he tries to blink the sleep away. There is a weight against his leg, hair tickling his nose, and his heart leaps before crushing. Harry tries to push her away, to give her the distance she had been determined to maintain after last night. She grumbles against him, pulling herself closer, slaying her legs over his own, her head now firmly on his chest. "Snow," he murmurs quietly, guiltily basking in the moment he was given, the sight of her close one he didn't think he would be granted so soon after last night.
"Five minutes," she mumbles, burying her head further in his chest, a content sigh leaving her as she relaxes against him. Harry stills, unsure what to do. But she doesn't suddenly awaken, jerking from his hold, glaring at him in disgust. Slowly, hesitantly, he relaxes back against the bed, his left hand lightly stroking the curve of her back, drifting up and down. "I can hear you thinking." It's a soft grumble, but it sends shivers down his spine.
"I'm confused, that's all."
With that she lifts her head, resting her chin on the broad planes of his chest while she sleepily eyes him down. "About what?"
"You, this. Everything." He breathes deeply, hand reaching up, curling around the back of her head, hair tangling between his fingers. "I thought you didn't want this." She looks at him to droopy eyes, brows furrowing as she struggles to catch up. "You hated me last night, could barely look at me." The memory leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and it is him that can barely look at her, his left hand fingering his linens, his eyes following the movements.
"You asked me to act like I'm in love," she shrugs. "You pay me, I do what you ask. Mostly." There is a laugh in her voice, a smile on her lips he can barely muster the strength to admire.
He stiffens. "I don't want your fake attitude, not in private." And softly, "Not when you know how I feel about you." There is a flicker of a smile on his lips, self deprecating and full of something she sees in her own once in a while. When he moves to leave the bed she stops him. She has to. He can't leave like this.
"It's not fake." It is mumbled, Caitlin's ice walls cracking under the weight of the moment. "I'm not acting for you." He is watching her, and the intensity of her gaze as she meets his own blurs the world around them, Caitlin the only thing he could properly see. "I was acting for me." At his troubled look she continues, deliberately slow, wanting - needing - him to understand. "I like you Harry. A lot. And I shouldn't, I can't." He feels like he is stuck still by the force of her words, "But you're right, acting like those feelings don't exist isn't helping any of us." She takes a deep breath and it shakes, the deep inhale. He wishes for that luxury, too caught up to have the strength for a breath. "So for today, just today, I won't hide. We can pretend that we don't have to go back to separate lives after this, we can pretend that this relationship is real and you didn't hire me." The smile flickers like a dying light bulb, shining and yet so evidently broken to those who witness it. "We can pretend I'm allowed to actually love you." The words were caught in her throat, but she forces them out.
Bright blue eyes widen at the words, unable to look away from chocolate coloured ones. He wants to say something, to offer a longer, more permanent solution to the problem she feels they face. But he doesn't. He can read the fear lurking in the depths, understands it far too well. So he nods, he smiles at her. "Okay then Snow. Whatever you want." His voice is rough, his hands rubbing up and down her bicep.
She grins at him, properly this time. It is enough to lighten up the room. "So let's try this again." She swings her leg over his waist, straddling him as she leans down. "Morning." Her lips skim over his earlobe, Caitlin pulling back with a smile, a dazzling smile that leaves his heart fluttering inside his chest and his mind blank.
"What?" he teases, lips quirking into a smile. "No good morning kiss?" He pouts at her, pointing to his mouth. She leans down for a kiss, languid and calm, smiling against him as they move against each other. Harry's hands find her thighs, the man using her as an anchor as he lifts himself on his elbows, deepening the kiss as he leans up into her. They pull away reluctantly, Caitlin resting her forehead on his own, nudging him with the tip of her nose.
"How was that?"
His reply is breathless. "Perfect."
They make their way to the mansion where the wedding was taking place, the pair lingering in the car.
They do eventually separate for preparations, Harry stopping her by the doorway, spinning her around to steal a kiss and her breath. She huffs out a laugh, blushing at the way he cupped her face, whispering that he hopes she has a great day.
Harry joins Joe and the other members of the wedding party to prepare, Caitlin helping Jesse and Iris, slipping into their dresses, getting their hair prepared. All the while her phone goes off. It's cute flirty messages, frequently at first, scattered later.
And then there is nothing at all.
It shouldn't worry her - there was a wedding taking place in a few hours. But the frequency wasn't the only thing that had dropped, the warmth in his messages had disappeared as well. And it worries her.
But she pushes it down, pushes it away, plastering a smile on her face, cooing over how beautiful Jesse looks and how stunning Iris was as the maid-of-honor. The make up artist turns to Caitlin, preparing the correct palette for her complexion. So distracted by their conversations while waiting, no one noticed the knocking on the door nor the fact it swung open.
"Can we steal Caitlin for a bit?" They jump in surprise, turning to Cisco who's head had popped through the door. "It's kinda an emergency."
They all turn to the bride, a soft smile on Jesse's lips, unable to hide the sadness at the request. "Yeah, go on." Caitlin doesn't move for a moment, brows furrowing as she watches Jesse, footsteps slow as she turns back to watch her, only moving properly when she nods in support.
Cisco grabs her hand, pulling her along as they wind through hallways, Caitlin stumbling initially as the jerk movements. "What's going on? Did Harry stab Wally? Do I need to stem the bleeding?" But her attempts at humour fall flat, Cisco's lips in a pursed lime.
"He just might."
"What?!" she exclaims, eyes wide as she turns away from the path in front of her to stare at Cisco, mouth agape.
"Okay, it's likely he won't." Cisco concedes, the look of worry not erasing from her expression at the words. They stop in front of the door, Cisco opening and pushing her in before him, cowering behind her as though she were a shield. She turns around immediately, frowning at his actions. "Harry, look - Caitlin." She stares at him for a moment longer, before standing straight, looking around the room, her gaze landing on Harry.
He looks agitated, but underneath that she can see his fear, his anxiety. "Cisco," she murmurs quietly, gaze never leaving Harry. "Leave us for a bit." He doesn't hesitate, bolting out the door, words of thanks muffled by the wood between them. They stand there for some time, watching each other, not moving. She can see the agitation rolling off of him in waves, can see it in the pursed lips, in the creases in his forehead. It hurts. "It's going to be okay Harry," she says lowly, softly.
"I'm losing her," he whispers brokenly, voice cracking. "I'm losing Jesse and I don't know what I'm going to do without her."
Loss permeates his words, his tone. It strikes into her heart, the muscle aching for him, beating hard inside her chest.
"Hey, hey," she soothes. She is beside him, his face cradled in her palms, thumbs stroking his cheeks. The weight against her hands increases, Harry leaning into her touch. "You're not losing her. You're gaining a son now." His eyes are piercing, cutting through to her heart. And she wants to get rid of the disbelief in his gaze. "No person in this world can replace you Harrison Wells. Especially not to Jesse," she laughs. "Half the time she looks at you as though you hung the moon, and the other half you're doing that to her."
It elicits a weak smile. She counts it as a win.
"I thought we talked about this," she says. "There was a dinner, we kissed. Remember that day?"
"Yeah. That was before I realised she would be buying a house with him on the other side of town instead of just renting their old place."
She frowns in confusion. "Harry, you live in another city completely. It's almost like a different world."
"I know," he says. "I know, but there is a difference between knowing something up here" he says tapping his head, "and accepting it in here," he adds tapping his chest. "I know Jesse's a grown woman and I love her, but she'd my baby girl Snow."
She takes a step toward, head tilted up to meet his eyes. "What do you need?"
He sighs. "Time, Snow. I need time. I just panicked when Wally told me and Cisco overreacted."
"Okay, that's fine. Well, what do you want me to do?" She asks it so simply, her expression so open. The kiss wasn't expected, but it was welcome all the same. He tugs her, hold her tightly. And she's content to let him set the pace, Caitlin losing herself in the moment, quiet moans against his lips as he works out his pent up emotion. "We need to stop," she says between ragged breaths, the words a struggle. He flinches in response, and before she realises she is pulling him back to herself, kissing him once more, stealing the breath from his lungs, all thoughts from his mind. "I meant," she murmurs between kisses, "we should stop before Cisco comes barging in so I can do my makeup." She reaches his earlobe, tugging it between her teeth. "I don't think it'd be appropriate to be making out like horny teenagers when your daughter is getting married in a few hours."
He lets go reluctantly, a smile on his lips as she leans forward to steal a quick kiss before she dashes out the door, Cisco entering with a wary look on his face. "You okay now?" And Harry can see the concern lurking in his gaze.
"Yeah," he responds, the taste of Caitlin on his tongue, the thought of her on his mind. "I'm okay Ramon."
And he wasn't lying.
The wedding goes through without any further incidents. Harry cries seeing Jesse in white, cries walking her down the aisle. It hurts as they reach the end, Harry letting go of her hand, a kiss on her forehead as he wishes them the best. But he isn't losing her, he reminds himself, she would always be a part of his life. And it doesn't hurt as much as he expects.
He doesn't expect to cry as they exchange vows, but watching them profess undying love for one another, watching them slip and stumble in their speeches as their tears interrupt them, watching them slide on their wedding bands - he can't help the tears. Nor can he help turning his head, Caitlin in the front row, wiping away her own tears as she watches them. She's beautiful and he can't help but smile at her when she turns to meet his gaze.
They both turn to the couple in the centre, however, when the pastor announces that the couple were now husband and wife, Wally finally kissing his bride.
It is a rush between the ending of the ceremony and the reception, the wedding party being rushed outside for photographs, Harry going to check that the hall was prepared for the reception that was to happen in a few hours. So busy with the preparations he doesn't see Caitlin or Jesse, not until the small crowd starts to move in the room. Everything starts moving, the bride and groom entering, the food starting to be served. He seems anxious and Caitlin rests a comforting hand on his knee, squeezing it in support.
He takes a deep breath before standing, fork tapping against his glass, and the hall goes quiet, every one turning their gaze towards the bride's father. "Hi, well, you all witnessed my daughter here marry the love of her life, and it is custom on this earth for the father to give a speech at the reception so-" He pauses, fiddling with the paper in his hand. "Love is a wonderful, heart wrenching thing. It can build you up in the best of ways and can break you until you're a husk of who you were before." He doesn't see the alarmed look on Caitlin's face nor the surprised one on Jesse's. He clings to his paper and continues. "It is a force of nature that science can't yet explain and here it is - between you both." He sighs, looking at the couple. "You both are some of the finest people I've had the pleasure of meeting, and I wish you nothing but the best and I hope you enjoy the highest of highs without the lows crushing you. You deserve everything." He looks down, stealing a glance at Caitlin from the corner of his eyes. And he may tilt his head slightly, may let his gaze linger. "Love is a beautiful thing, don't let it slip through your fingers."
And if he was directing that at himself and not the happy couple, no one was the wiser.
They applaud as he sits down, the party relaxing and enjoying themselves. Music plays as they eat and talk, a few brave couples wandering into the centre, dancing with each other after Jesse and Wally share their first dance as a married couple. It sounds beautiful, looks even more magnificent and he finds his gaze focussing on the happiness on the faces of the dancers more often than not.
And it inspires him.
"May I have this dance?" he asks, standing up and bowing before Caitlin, hand outstretched. She takes it without hesitation, even though her hand shakes, even though her heart screams no. The dance is nice, slow. Intimate. He pulls her close, Caitlin sliding against him, her chin resting on his shoulder, Harry placing a hand on her waist, keeping her close. And they are hand in hand, swaying to the music, to the beat of their hearts. And it is nice, it is more than merely nice. It is perfection. Time is a blur, reality centring in on this moment, on their touch, their love. The floor thins as couples go to leave, but they remain, too swept up to care, afraid of what will be when the night ends. But soon her movements become sluggish, her eyelids heavy.
He suppresses a chuckle the first time she stumbles, Caitlin blushing red at the mistake, apologising against his suit, the words muffled. He whispers that it is okay, Harry turning his face into her hair, brushes it against her skin. But then it happens once more, her apology slurred as she pulls away, eyes glazed.
"I think it's time we were off." She doesn't protest his words, not when she is so utterly exhausted. And so they find Jesse and Wally, wishing them a wonderful honeymoon, the limousine coming to pick them up for the airport in a few hours.
And they go home.
He leads her up the stairs, Caitlin leaning on his body as they move slowly towards the bedroom.
"Snow," he starts and she flinches, much more awake than before. He sees it, sees her change. But he chooses to plough ahead, knowing he may never get another chance. "Snow I want this arrangement -" he waves a hand between them as though there were anything else he could be referring to. "- I want it to continue after tonight. After we get home."
She stiffens. "No." It's a hoarse whisper, Caitlin staggering away from him. "Please no."
"Snow," he says. "Caitlin," he amends. "What's wrong?"
"You - you think you're the first person to develop feelings for me, the first client to want to see me after this is all done?" He sees panic flare in her eyes and he hates it, hates the bastard who did this to her, hates that she's so afraid. "I've tried this before Harry, continuing with ex-clients." She stifles a gasp and his hand ache, desperate to hold her against him. It is painful watching her, Caitlin trembling like a leaf, arms circling her stomach, trying to hold herself together. "It doesn't work - this, doesn't work."
Her eyes shine with unshed tears. But there is more,
he can see her fear.
"What did he do you Caitlin?" There is barely restrained anger in his voice and he winces as it echoes in their room. Overriding it all however, was concern. The step forward was instinctual, wanting to comfort her, needing to.
"He hurt me." It is a quiet whisper, but it echoes loudly in his mind, over and over until it is the only thing he can think about. She curls into herself, rubbing her arms, looking away. "He was a scientist like me, and he was so sweet on the phone, and so awkward," she laughs wetly, wiping away a few stray tears. "Sweeter in real life so we continued the relationship after the weekend was over and I fell in love." She shrugs so helplessly it tears at his heart. "And he loved me back, but he was so -" she struggles. "Obsessive. Loved me, only wanted me. He hated that I worked with other people - men - hated that I still continued to be people's fake dates even though I was drowning in debts and refused to kiss or share a room with any of the clients." The shaking of her body scares him but she's still holding herself away from him, afraid to seek comfort in his embrace. "It was scaring me and I tried to break it off but he wouldn't accept it. He - wouldn't - accept - it." And it's the hyperventilating between each word that twists the knife in his heart.
"You know I'd never do that to you Snow." He doesn't mean for the words to come out, but they do so anyway, and she looks up to him, eyes wet and chin trembling. "I'd never force you to do anything. I'm just - we're -" He flounders for words and he hates that his brain is failing him now of all times.
She sniffles, blinking hard, trying to hold back the tears. "I have a retraining order out against him. There are a nights where I think I can see him standing at the foot of my bed." He sighs her name more than speaking it, a soft 'Caitlin' on his lips, the way his eyes shine in sympathy, in adoration of the broken, strong woman before him. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to go through that again."
"You won't." It is fierce, eyes flashing bright blue as he looks her in the eyes. "I swear Caitlin I would never do that to you. Not in a million years." He falters. "You - you know that right?"
She nods at him, slightly at first, harder as the tears start streaming down, Caitlin moving towards him, colliding with his chest as she takes heaving sobs. He wraps his arms around her body, so small, so fragile, his chin resting on top of her head as she shakes in his arms. It goes on for seconds, minutes, lifetimes, the pair of them standing there in a room all alone, with only each other to cling to and hold.
She pulls away from him, taking in the tear tracks on his own face, Caitlin moving instinctively, slender fingers wiping away the marks left on his face. And she keeps them there, Harry still watching her, always watching her. She strokes the sides of his face with her thumbs, fingers dancing across the outline of his face. They're having a moment, she is sure of it. The room is charged, crackling with electricity and she feels so light, so free after unburdening her heart. And he's still looking at her unwavering, with that damn look in his eyes that makes her heart leap and her mind fuzzy. And so she moves, holding his face still as she brushes her lips against his once, twice and oh, she thinks, she's crying again. Harry kisses her so delicately, as though she would break at any second, and it's his softness that breaks down her walls.
"Why?" she says after a while, her lips still burning but heart calming down. "Why me?"
"Because apparently I only ever look alive whenever you're with me." She tilts her head toward him, confused. "I thought my life would be work and Jesse - but then you come waltzing in and suddenly I want there to be more. I want there to be you."
She sucks on her bottom lip and he's not sure whether to take that as a good sign or a bad one. "Maybe," she relents. "When this is all done, maybe I'll go out for a coffee with you, a few dates. No funny business." She blushes, memories of his hands on her body flashing through her mind, and she's sure he'd smirk in response if he wasn't so frightened of scaring her off. "We need to do this - us - properly."
"Us," he echoes, wonderment in his voice, eyes bright. She nods bashfully, smiling as he moves to cup her face, whispering the words against her lips as he kisses her once more.
They sleep apart. Him in his own bed, her in the abandoned room Jesse had been in the night before, Caitlin moving all her things into it that night. But lying in the bed does nothing to help him, to help him rest that night. He thinks she's running away from them, from him, despite what she had said about there being a possibility in the future. It drives him to the point of distraction, this uncertainty gnawing at his mind, his heart. Was she serious? Was she just saying whatever was necessary to placate him through the night. He twists and turns, he kicks and growls to himself - from the moment he lay his head down onto the pillow until the moment the first rays of dawn slip through the cracks in his shades. And then for a few hours more, too afraid to know what would happen when he awakens.
Harry does eventually meander downstairs, his stomach grumbling. There are no dirty dishes in the sink, none hanging in the rack.
Breakfast is fast to make and slow to deliver, Harry hovering by the closed bedroom door Caitlin had slept behind.
He knocks on the door. There is no reply. He calls her name. There is no reply.
He enters the room.
It's empty.
There is a letter resting on the bed, no luggage in the corner.
She had gone.
.
.
.
.
.
It has been months since the wedding, months since she last saw Harry.
Months since she touched him, kissed him.
It's strange adjusting back into her life, working with Tina as though her break away from work hadn't shifted her world off of its axis.
She is called into the office, Caitlin's eyebrows knitting in confusion as she makes her way there, unsure why she was being summoned.
But she swings the door open,
and she knows.
Harry.
He is there, watching her, eyes flaring as he catches sight of her, raking over her body before returning to her face. Tina is watching her, talking to her, and she blushes as she belatedly realises a question was asked.
"I'm sorry, what?" She turns her head toward her boss, ignoring his presence. Ignoring the way he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. She pushes the sleeves of her lab coat up, needing to be diong something other than focussing on him. She hears the soft groan.
Tina is watching her, head cocked to the side, a confused look on her face. Caitlin's knows it's her, knows that her behaviour is confusing her boss. "As I was saying," and Caitlin has the decency to look abashed. "This is Doctor Harrison Wells, he is a very good friend of mine." Caitlin forces herself to meet his gaze, a curt nod in his direction before turning quickly to Tina. "He's working on a project in STAR Labs that requires a bio-engineer and, instead of hiring his own, he wants to borrow one of my brightest minds." There is a pause, and Caitlin can already hear the next words before they are spoken, can feel the ghost of Harry tracing them on her skin. "He wants you."
"Oh."
It's all she can muster at that moment.
She's not quite sure when she went from standing beside the chair to sitting upon it, but she finds herself looking up at them both.
"Are - are you okay with this?" It's the first thing Harry says since Caitlin enters, eyebrows knitting together as he takes in her reaction. Or lack thereof.
She looks at Tina. It's the only thing she can handle. "Are you transferring me there permanently?" And she is amazed her voice is steady, even if she is certain that her eyes are expressing the panic she is trying to hide.
"I'm not trying to get rid of you Caitlin," and she feels relief, shoulders slumping, relieving the tension that she was holding. There is a flicker of a smile on her lips, small but genuine. "Harrison is going to have to pry you from my clutches if he thinks I'll let you go to him permanently. It's only for a short while -"
"Unless of course, Doctor Snow, you want to move to STAR Labs, then that is more than possible to organise." There is a smile in his voice, a twinkling in his eyes as she turns her head to look at him. She tries to stifle her laugh but she fails and in that instant all the lingering tension disappears.
"Harrison, if you want her you need to stop trying to convince her to leave." The sterns words were said with an undercurrent of amusement, Harry pausing mid-breath, huffing out a laugh as he nods in concession.
"Okay fine, you win." He holds his hands out in surrender and everything is surreal to Caitlin. Harry, Tina. The job.
"Do I leave now or..." She flushes, hoping she doesn't sound too eager to join him. She is simply curious. That is it. It has nothing to do with any desire to spend time with him, none whatsoever. But she stills, the realisation that she wouldn't be working with her colleagues everyday striking her. It would be a new team, new people. It scares her.
"Oh no, there are a few more details to smooth out and you are in the middle of some important research. Can't lose you before that's complete." Tina smiles, leaning closer to her. "Anyway, Eliza would have my head if you left without saying goodbye."
Caitlin stands at that, ready to thank them both for the opportunity when Harry interrupts. "Actually, would I be able to steal Caitlin for a coffee break, see if she has any questions, any concerns?"
Tina nods, turning to Caitlin. "Only if you want to of course."
"Yeah," Caitlin forces out. "That sounds great."
"Did you invent a position so that I would spend time with you?"
She waits for them to be seated in the bistro, coffees in hand, before she narrows her gaze at him. "What?" he sputters. "Why would you even suggest that?" Caitlin arches an eyebrow in response. "Okay fine," he concedes, "I may have been influenced in my decision making."
"I don't want a fake job Harry," she sighs. "I love my work, I love working. And if this is your way to get us together we should go tell Tina that I'm not suitable for the position." She seems so disappointed at the idea of him faking a position so that they could spend time together, and it only succeeds in making his heart race faster.
"It is a real position though." He smiles at her. "I have a contract with the government on how we could enhance our military divisions, ways we can give ordinary humans superhuman abilities, meta-humans, if you will." He shrugs, "there also may be some animal experimentation." At her look he expands with "how am I supposed to save you from a telepathic gorilla who loves you if one doesn't already exist?" A snort of laughter leaves Caitlin, her shoulders falling as she relaxes. "I really do need a bio-engineer and given your background in chemistry and that you are an accredited physician, you are perfect -" His breath hitches. "For the position."
"Well okay then," she says at last, eyes bouncing in excitement. "Sign me up."
He sighs, it is deep and heavy and holds the weight of the world. "But are you okay with this? Working with me?" He can't meet her gaze, looking down at the table instead. They both watch his hand inch closer to her own, hesitant and fearful of her reaction. He stops millimetres away, so close that their hairs could touch. And it is Caitlin who makes the final move, covering his hand with her own, squeezing it. The contact sends his heart into overdrive, beating hard inside his chest. The temptation to lean forward and kiss her is agonisingly real, the temptation to get up off of his chair, to cup her head in his hands and tug her against him. He imagines doing it, imagines the way she'd taste, the way she'd feel, the noises she would make.
But then she smiles at him, and that's more than perfect for him.
He caves, lifting her hand to his face, pressing a soft kiss against the inside of her wrist. It sends her blushing, Caitlin tugging her hand away, fiddling with the cup of coffee before her. "I just have one question," he starts. Her head jerks up slightly, meeting his eyes as she silently urges him on. "Why did you leave all the money I'd given you. That's a week's worth of wages Snow."
She looks bashful, Caitlin drinking her coffee to buy her some time to compose herself. "I couldn't accept it."
He frowns at her words. "But you earnt it Snow."
Caitlin shakes her head, placing her cup of coffee on the side to take his hand in both of hers. "You paid me to pretend to have feelings for you Harry, and I failed. I don't think I pretended once." A smile stretches across his face, tugging at the corner of his lips, crinkles forming in the corner of his eyes. He looks younger again, looks happy.
"You should still take something for your time," he presses, but she cuts him off with a wicked smile.
"Oh I did." She winks at him. "I've still got that dress."
Pairing: Earth-1 Caitlin Snow and Earth-2 Harrison Wells
Rating: Teen
Read on AO3.
Preview:
Movie nights have been a good addition to her schedule, Caitlin thinks.
Especially since Harry and Cisco have given up on proving which movies are best. The whole thing has relaxed, and occasionally, other members of Team Flash stop by. No matter who’s coming, though, Harrison Wells starts movie night with an arm around Caitlin Snow.
And nobody seems to care. The biggest reaction they’ve gotten was a stare and a long blink from Wally before he accepted it as wordlessly as everyone else had.
Nobody has said a thing, including Harry and Caitlin themselves; they haven’t said a word about it. They haven’t addressed it with so much as a raised eyebrow between them. They just settle in once a week, Caitlin comfortable against his side, enjoying his surprising warmth and the security of his arm around her. She looks forward to it.
She’s not sure how much longer she can take it not going any further than sitting together on a couch.
Despite the overall relaxation, she finds herself frustrated at times. Like now, when the whole team is relaxing at Star Labs to celebrate the holiday, and when she’s not arguing with him over the best composition of molecules for a hypothetical biological design, she really wants to tuck herself against his side, to touch casually like newly-engaged Iris and Barry.
It’s been too long since she’s had that in any sort of genuine way, and so much has happened since she last had it with Ronnie. She wants it again, wants to be part of a duo, but not just to avoid being alone; she’s perfectly capable of continuing her life without romance, surrounded by her friends, with her job to keep her busy.
It’s just that she’d rather do it all - the friends, the job, her life - with Harry.
Summary: “Nice to meet you, stranger,” she drawls, licking her tongue across her bottom lip. She looks at Harrison's bloodied lip and pouts. “Did I do that?”
(Or, the fic in which Frost busts into Caitlin's body while she's getting it on with Dr. Wells. Pre-canon.) eowells x caitlin/frost, M-rated
-
“Cait,” Harrison breathes, fingers plucking away at the buttons of Caitlin’s white blouse.
He forgets, sometimes, how to be delicate when she’s around him.
He knows it sends her to places, when he uses that voice, when he uses that tone; it’s like a nightingale’s love call at dusk. Harrison wants to meet her there, the place where dusk turns to midnight’s desire. It’s always a promise.
“Let me do this for you, Caitlin,” Harrison whispers, just as she’s trying to unclasp her bra from behind.
His hands are steady as they take over. She nods, biting down a smile as she closes her eyes to enjoy this. Harrison knows, that deep in her mind, she’s still trying to reconcile what they’re doing. (What lovers do, when the labs are empty and the midnights are quiet and hungry.)
He gets Caitlin on the table, his table, and pulls her legs around his waist. She has strong thighs, he notes, as they clutch around him particularly tightly tonight; a constricting bow that sends jolts of electricity into his—
He kisses her, and she bites back so hard it draws blood.
Two white pupils stare back at Harrison. Caitlin’s locks transform into silver-white. Her skin is ghostly pale. Her lips are frozen black. He still wants to taste them, perhaps even more now.
“Nice to meet you, stranger,” she drawls, licking her tongue across her bottom lip. She looks at his bloodied lip and pouts. “Did I do that?”
Interesting—she’s come early.
“You’re not my Caitlin.”
“That’s right,” she leans in, blowing light sprinkle of frost into his face. He sends a jolt of the speedforce through his body to warm up, just the lightest amount, but the frost is still quick to take over.
“Never really understood what Caity ever saw in you.”
He squints at her, as if examining her: her intentions, her mysteries, her condition. He knows all of the answers to all of these questions, of course, knows the insides of Caitlin Snow’s body like the back of his hand, even before she does.
He knows everything except the answer to why.
“If I may, is this—dissociative—no, wait, dormant genes, perhaps?”
“You tell me, Doc. You’ve been through all of Caity’s medical records—and more. Besides, you don’t seem at all concerned about the fact that you’re inches away from being my first.”
She glances down at her legs, tightly wrapped around his, their hips so close to touching, like glacier peaks about to meet.
“Your first?”
She grins, startlingly wide. “My first kill—I don’t trust you.”
“Says the woman who just threatened to end a man’s life in the basest of positions.”
Harrison lets himself bring a hand to her bare chest; it’s quite marvelous really, the layers of permafrost that encases her cells in order to achieve this impossible harmony with the human physiology. He cups her breasts with both hands. (They’re still incredibly smooth, though Harrison would wager that this new skin is near impenetrable.)
Caitlin would find it all so fascinating.
He leans in to kiss her, diving into her neck as he slips a finger into her satin underwear. It’s cold inside. How amusing. He chuckles just as she tightens her grip on the back of his neck.
She pulls on his hair as his head gets violently tugged back up. He finds the faintest flush of pink on her blue-tinted skin.
“Look, I’m no snake. I’m here to look out for Caitlin,” she says through gritted teeth.
“How exactly is this looking out for her,” Harrison says, slowly retracting out of her, as he hooks two of his wet fingers onto the thin lace and snaps it back onto her.
“I just needed to know what our sweet Caity is getting herself into. Like I said, I don’t trust you. I know you don’t trust me, either.”
Ah, now that, Harrison understands. A mutual agreement. It seems that Caitlin’s alter-ego wasn’t quite ready to make herself known just yet. Harrison knows the feeling.
Her trust would be invaluable in the coming years. She could very easily be the very thing to unravel everything: not just between him and Caitlin, but his entire fifteen year-plan in the making. He needs to tread carefully.
“I trust that we both have her best interest at heart,” Harrison says. She nods in response.
“We do. Now, make it good so she doesn’t notice she was gone.”
She licks her blue lips and Harrison leans in to devour her mouth. They’re like twin glaciers, again, now melting into hotter seas.
“Dr. Wells,” Caitlin breathes, touching his bloodied lip. Panic floods her eyes.
“You’re bleeding. I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice—”
He murmurs her name gently, like the lull of a nightingale’s song. He's brushing his fingers through her hair and whispers, “Never apologize for anything you do to me.”
Title: we can learn to love again (just give me a reason)
Pairing: snowells || snowharry
Part: 1/?
Word count: 11 760 out of 20k+ (sorry i couldn’t finish it in time. finals :/)
Information: ‘the wedding date’ au.
Dedication: to serena - @reeseneseira - one of the most wonderful, greatest, loveliest people on this site and oh my gosh, you graduated without telling us!! Happy birthday you beautiful, stunning person. I wish you the greatest :D love ya <3
ao3 // ffn
It plagues him for weeks, the phone call he made. The contract he entered into. She seemed so sweet on the phone, a voice that could lull you into a sense of security. A voice you could fall in love with.
And he thinks that maybe men do; she only worked weekends and he was lucky that she was free when he needed her. It may have been fate and destiny, if he believed in such things, that the hour before he called her for a wedding in six weeks time, the person who had booked her for that very weekend cancelled. She had said so, rambling on, her voice so bubbly and joyful, a smile spreading across his face without him realising. They had paid her a significant amount, and she admitted she'd taken the next week off to relax. She bemoans that she wouldn't be able to spend that week as she'd hoped, resigned to spending the week at home, binging on Netflix. It is a gift from the heavens and he offers to pay for that week too if she'd spend it with him. He confesses that he'd been planning on telling them all she'd only be available for that weekend, but if she could just - She interrupts him, gushing her thanks as she accepts his offer. He can hear her smile as she tells him how excited she was, asking about the weather and what clothes she should pack.
Harry almost hates to cut her off, his secretary watching him outside his glass office door, her hand tapping her other wrist, an imaginary watch on. He raises his eyebrows, but she isn't afraid, only doing it back in response. He sighs, holding his hand out for five extra minutes. She huffs in response, eyes narrowing as she nods and returns to her desk.
"What do you want me to do with your plane ticket?"
The agitation rolls off of Harry; business class was nice, the room on the aeroplane spacious - but he couldn't feel constricted. He gets up, needing to go to the bathroom - fearful and expectant of her seat being filled when he returned. Splashing water on his face he mutters to himself of weakness and regret; he never should have done this. But it was Jesse getting married - Jesse who had been so worried about him, even before her engagement, Jesse who he had lied to, saying he had met a woman and that he was dating. Jesse who all but insisted he bring her along to the wedding so she could meet the woman who swept her father off of his feet.
The moment Harry Wells sees Caitlin Snow for the first time is something that will be permanently etched into his mind. She steals his breath without realising, without ever trying. It is pure beauty, the sunlight shining through the window beside her, the brilliant smile on her face as she jokes with the flight steward. It takes him a moment to compose himself, allowing himself that time of weakness, to just stop and stare. His shoulders slump and it doesn't make sense, he should be more nervous seeing her with him there, but she was relaxing him without trying.
He finally does make his way to her, pausing in the aisle, Caitlin turning to him immediately. "Hi, I'm - "
"Doctor Wells," she finishes, her gaze flickering over him, a small smile on her face, almost bashful. " I knew who you were before that. One doesn't work in the scientific fields and not know Harrison Wells. And I know, I researched you." She stills when she hears her own words, eyes owlish as she tries to explain. "I research all my clients, don't worry." And softer, "I've had some bad experiences with some that's all." And he didn't think his heart could feel again, not after just meeting the girl. But it breaks for her, the pain laced in her words tugging at his heartstrings. He wonders what he should do- take her hand, pat her on the shoulder? She seems so morose and he so awkward.
"Right," Harry says gruffly, clearing his throat. A change of topic would be ideal, he thinks. Distractions were always the best. "I was thinking we would need to create a backstory for how we met." Caitlin looks up at him, a weak smile of gratitude playing on her lips, eyes a little watery, and the flare of anger inside him wasn't something he was expecting, not at all. "I don't think saying you're an escort will convince my daughter we're serious." She laughs at that, so honest and pure, her head leaning back and her eyes shut, and he knows in that moment that he won't forget her, forget this. It takes him by surprise, the effort needed to control his wandering thoughts, to school his expression toward neutrality.
"I meant that you could say we met at work, I do have degrees in biochemistry and bioengineering, I'm sure we met at a conference and you came up to me, dazzled with my smile and wit." Her eyes are dancing as she speaks, a cheeky grin on her face as she teases him.
A bark of laughter leaves him, Harry shaking his head in response. "She wouldn't believe that. Not that your smile isn't dazzling," he backtracks, "but I'm not the type of person who approaches anyone." He fingers the spot where his wedding ring used to be, now empty and cold as he thinks about Tess once more, of how she would have wanted him to move on, years ago. Of how he couldn't, how he didn't. He doesn't realise that his face falls at the memories, eyes dimming at the memory of her. But Caitlin sees it, sees the smile fade from his face, the dimples that she had been admiring disappearing. And she wants them back, wants his smile back, wants his happiness back.
"Hey," she takes his hand, startling him out of his slump. "I get it." She pulls out her necklace, a ring hanging on the chain. "My fiance died in a fire, I didn't think I could ever move on from that." He watches her, watches how her eyes dim and fall, how she pulls herself away from him, his hand now cold as she lets go, linking her two hands together. "You have a great reputation Doctor Wells, I'm sure saying I approached you for some insight wouldn't be too much of a stretch of the imagination for your daughter." Caitlin can sense his anxiety, her eyes softening as she continues to watch him. "We met at a convention on genetic mutations and the potential of increasing body speeds; you gave a talk, I had some questions. We started emailing each other, grabbed dinner a few times, I asked you out, you accepted. How's that?"
"Yeah," he breathes. "That would be perfect."
"Great," she relaxes, tension seeping out of her, ducking her head as she catches his eye. She doesn't understand why she feels so flustered, looking down under his scrutiny, blue eyes shining as he watches her. The silence between them stretches, Caitlin biting her lower teeth as she searches for something to say. But she can't find words, can't think, not with his unwavering gaze on her. "Is - Is there something wrong?" she asks eventually, pushing a lock behind her ear, stealing a glance of him before looking back into her lap.
He lets out a breath. "I'm not going to lie, I thought you would be a bit older."
"Oh," and her cheeks darken. "Is my age going to be a problem? I usually have younger clients trying to get back at their exes getting married. I didn't think about my age." She shrugs. "Sorry?"
"Nah, it's fine." But his posture said otherwise. She can see the anxiety in his expression and so Caitlin reaches out, a comforting hand on his shoulder, a smile on her face as she tries to calm him. But he isn't meeting her gaze, staring outside the window, staring at the clouds in the sky.
"Are they really the type of people who would care about that?" she asks hesitantly, her nerves showing through the cracks of her confidence. "Because the way you talked about them," she pauses. "You can hear the love in your voice. And I don't think that's a one-sided thing."
He looks at her with that, truly looks at her. And what he sees is stunning.
"I think you should call me Harry," he says drily, a hint of a smirk on his lips. He hears her laugh again, the soothing tones washing over him. She tests it out on her tongue, smiling warmly as she repeats it until he starts chuckling at her antics. It's nice, he thinks, she sounds nice, an almost perfect fit to the dynamic he'll be returning to back home, one she'll be thrown into with him. "Okay," he interrupts. He doesn't realise just how large his smile is, how his eyes sparkle. How it has her faltering and her heart skipping a beat. "I think you've got the hang of it now."
"And what are you going to call me?" she asks in response, eyebrow arched.
He takes a second to respond, letting the word savour in his mouth. Her lips quirk into a smile, head tilting as the silence lengthens, confusion slipping into her expression. "Snow," he says finally. "I'll call you Snow."
The flight is relatively smooth, Caitlin falling asleep, a smile on her face as she rests. He doesn't know how she could do so, but then, he thinks, she wasn't the one who was lying to her family and friends. It would be a small thing, and she already knew so much about him from background checks. But it worries him, the greatest aspects of his life were the ones that she couldn't find on the internet - his desire for adventure, his love of his daughter. Caitlin was good, he acknowledged, picking up on his general disposition toward Ramon and to a lesser extent Allen (picking up on his affection even as he grumbles about them). She knows that he approves of Wally, knows it will be difficult giving his daughter away - the only family he had left.
(He had picked up on things too, the hitch of her breath as he mentions that these people are his family, the quiet sniffle as he talks about how much he wants his daughter to be happy on her special day. His fear that showing up alone will only worry her.)
But, he thinks, would it be enough?
The landing on the tarmac isn't smooth, and Harry worries that it would only a sign of things to come. There was a lingering fear, no matter how much she told him it would be fine, that it would change everything. And he wasn't sure whether he would be ready for whatever would come next. The rush of the crowd around them snaps him out of his thoughts, and he realises that Caitlin still hadn't risen from her slumber. Harry tries shaking Caitlin awake, allowing himself a fond smile as she brushes him away without ever opening her eyes, head rolling onto his shoulder, smiling as she readjusts herself to the new position. The passengers all rush to leave the plane, but he lets them wait a moment, giving her time before trying again. "Snow," he murmurs, softly at first, but louder when she ignores him.
She moans in reply, lifting her head off of his shoulders, stretching as she yawns. She blinks the tiredness from her eyes, gaze focussing on him. "I wouldn't wake up, huh?" He laughs, and the sound takes her by surprise, honesty ringing in the noise leaving his lips.
"Let's go," he replies instead, waiting for her to exit her seat before leaving with her, grabbing their overhead luggage and following her outside the plane. The wait for the rest of their luggage is relatively short and they make it through the checkouts without and real issues. They slide into a limousine, Caitlin unable to hide her surprise at the vehicle, nor the driver acknowledging him with a firm nod, barely responding to her presence.
The car trip is silent, which suits Caitlin perfectly, the woman watching the passing scenery, a hand put on Harry's left knee in what she hoped would be a soothing manner, given the constancy of the jostling of his leg. He stops immediately. She steals a glance at him, his lips pursed together, Harry looking forward, his eyes unblinking. She would have thought he would be excited to return home, to see them all but, judging from Harry's quickly changing attitude, he wasn't.
They pull up to a mansion, steel gates opening up as the car pulls into the driveway, parking near the entrance. She hops out, thanking the driver before bounding to the boot where their luggage was. But then she feels a strong grip on her forearm, Harry by her side, pulling her along, telling her over his shoulder that he would have people bring it in soon.
He rushes her into the house, unlocking the front door with his spare key and dragging Caitlin upstairs before she could have a word to anyone who may be in the house. The dinner would be in two hours and they needed to prepare themselves. He needed to prepare himself. She stumbles into his room after her, eyebrows raised as she looks at him disapprovingly. But he ignores her response, pacing across his bedroom floor, hand travelling a well worn path in his hair.
It feels so much more real now, having her in his room, preparing for tonight where she would meet his daughter.
"I don't think I can go through with this, I don't think we should go through with it at all." Caitlin stands still, watching him walk up and down, remaining silent as he watches the ground below his feet instead. "I can fake illness, jetlag. No, I can't leave you with them alone." He pauses, his head whipping towards her. Can you fake a sickness?" She pulls a face, not too impressed with his actions.
"No." She doesn't sound it either.
"I'm paying you aren't I?" It is a weak rebuttal, but firmly put, voice sharp as his eyes narrow.
"I'm not faking an illness because you got cold feet Harry," she snipes. Her spine straightens and her eyes are hard and yet still he persists, ignoring the warning signs down the path of his fall.
"Then what's the point of you if you won't listen to a thing I say?"
"You're paying me to be your fake girlfriend, not a slave," she hisses, storming of into the bathroom. The departure sends the winds out of his sails, Harrison sighing in defeat, sitting on the bed his head in his hands. He knows she is correct, knows he should apologise, but the idea of discussing the upcoming evening leaves him feeling out of sorts. He hears the water turn on, and knows that he has a small moment to pull himself together.
He doesn't budge, not until the water switches off, Caitlin humming off-key to herself behind the closed door. "Snow," he calls out, standing only centimetres in front of the door. His hand is raised, as if to knock, but he can't find the strength to commit, fearful she may just open the door so they have the conversation face-to-face.
She is standing in front of the sink, arms bracing on the sides of the vanity, knuckles turning white as she grips it tightly. She can barely recognise herself in the mirror, can't see the happy smiling girl from hours before, instead a picture of seriousness in its place. She can hear him behind the door, shuffling around, calling out her name. She wonders what would happen if she didn't respond. Would he continue to wait until she left the bathroom? Would he leave her be? Would he finally say what was on his mind? She doesn't wait long, Harry dropping the last name. "Caitlin I -" Her face softens at his struggle. "I'm sorry Caitlin, you didn't deserve that."
"It's okay Harry." And it was, but she couldn't face him, not yet. And so she injects enthusiasm into her voice and hopes that it soothes his nerves. Caitlin waits with bated breath, confused when she hears his hesitation to leave his place by the door.
"You don't have to lie to me Snow, I'm a genius but even I can screw up sometimes." She barks a laugh at his brash words, genuineness ringing in the syllables. It brings a smile to his lips and it's only then he walks away, slipping into his formal clothing before resting on his bed, hands behind his head as he leans against the headboard, eyes closing as he awaits her to finish preparing herself. He thinks he falls asleep for a moment, eyes fluttering closed until he hears a door open.
Her head sticks out from the door, hair still in curlers, face covered in green cream. "You go ahead." She finally says, cheeks red as she averts her gaze. He raises his brows, whether in response to her appearance or the clear embarrassment on her face he isn't quite sure. "Go," she urges before slipping back into the bathroom. He sighs, pursing his lips before he gets up off the bed and leaves the room. He tells the driver to wait for her, tells him the location of the gala before slipping into his own car and driving off. Anxiety eats at him - fear of his daughter's reaction to Caitlin, fear that his secret would be revealed. But he bites it back, forces it down as he lowers the top of his convertible, the breeze ruffling his hair.
His life was changing, he could feel it in his bones.
And he wasn't sure how it was going to all eventuate.
She enters the ballroom hesitantly, so alone without Harry by her side, whispering facts about the people. His presence had been a comfort, his eyes sparkling as he would talk about his daughter. It was a distraction from the knowledge that she would be at this event for longer than usual, surrounded by his closest friends and colleagues, all of them geniuses. The chances of slipping up were high, and the chances of them catching even the smallest mistake higher.
If Caitlin hopes to slip in unnoticed she fails to do so, descending the stairs, anxiety starting to rise up inside her. When she finally reaches the bottom there is a small woman striding towards her, the bride to be, her father nowhere in sight.
"So you're the lady my father won't stop talking about," Jesse exclaims with a smile, throwing her arms around her in greeting. Caitlin looks like a deer in headlights, awkwardly returning the hug, eyes searching for Harry who let a flicker of a smile through, approaching them quickly. He was nervous, and it showed terribly.
"I didn't realise you talked about me so much," Caitlin says over Jesse's shoulder, the younger woman not letting go. She raises her eyebrows and he looks pointedly at the back of his daughter's head as to not meet her gaze.
"I don't," he says drily, levelling a look at his daughter when she pulls away from Caitlin to greet him. She has a bashful look on her face, but it vanishes instantly, eyes lighting up as she sees the flicker of a smile on his lips. "hey Jesse," he whispers in her hair, eyes closing as he immerses himself in the embrace of his daughter. He feels peace washing over him, like an explorer finally making their way home, a comfort he would always crave no matter how far he roamed.
"Okay, not a lot. But you're smart and beautiful, and you make him laugh." The atmosphere shifts as she drops her gaze, eyes darting around. "And I don't get to see that very much now." Caitlin's eyes widen, a look of shock at the raw honesty. She schools her expression very easily, a soft smile on her face, almost adoring as she looks at him. It's unnerving, how well she appears to the world to be completely smitten with him, but he can see the cracks in the facade, the tightness in her lips, the excessive blinking when no one is paying attention. But he is.
"I'm sure he was exaggerating," Caitlin murmurs, biting the inside of her cheek.
Jesse pulls herself out of her father's arms, a sly look towards Caitlin and then back to him. Caitlin flushes at the look, a smile on her lips all the same. "I think I hear someone calling me, see you later." She winks at them, flouncing off into the crowd, leaving them both alone. Caitlin approaches Harry, taking his arm when he seemed unsure what she wanted, a silent laugh as he finally takes her arm back, pulling her close to his side. She leans closer, teasing him about how awkward he was with physical intimacy. His voice is gruff as he threatens to not help her blend in, refusing to identify the other friends she had known by name only. With so many people, colleagues and friends and distant relatives from both sides, it would be difficult to determine who was who. A slight elbow in his side is enough to have him groaning, rescinding the threat. She steals a glance to him, a softer smile on her lips as they manoeuvre their way through the crowds, Caitlin often stopping as Harry would talk to old family friends and workmates - Jesse had grown up at his labs, and they had all taken her under their wings as she expressed her interest in every field she was exposed to. They laugh over memories, mourn the speed of life. It is a different side to Harry, Caitlin observes - he is so open, his love for Jesse pouring out of him. He loves so strongly she notes, so wholeheartedly. And yet he was so alone, had been for so long. And against her reason she feels her heart pang in sorrow for him.
At her touch he startles, confusion hazing his gaze until he remembers just why she was here. The smile on his face is easy as he puts an arm around her. But even with action, his hold is still, a distance too large to be natural between them. They move on eventually, wandering through the crowds, Caitlin's eyes fluttering across the multitudes of people. She leans into him subconsciously, stopping when his hand around her waist flexes in response. She steals a look at him, but she is caught like a thief and much like a thief she is punished, Harry dropping his hand around her to adjust his glasses, arm falling to his side. Caitlin finds herself missing his touch.
He sighs and she isn't sure if it's in relief or exasperation. She thinks its a mixture of both as they approach a crowd of young people. He whispers in her ear their names, Cisco and Iris and Barry and Wally. She slips her hand into his, more for comfort than the facade, Caitlin reciting the facts on them in her mind.
There is a silence when the group catch sight of the couple and Harry stiffens at the looks on their faces. It drags on, disbelief and shock written across their expressions.
"I didn't think you were serious when you said you had a date," Cisco says finally. "Didn't think anyone would be crazy enough to voluntarily spend time with you." He cracks a grin, "I stand correctly."
"Ramon," Harry says, a tight smile on his face. "Shut. Up." It is instinctual, the soft elbow in his side as she turns to him, her lips pursed, disapproval evident. Laughter erupts around them and she feels herself go red as she realises just what she did. She ducks her head, flickering to his face, afraid of his reaction. But she sees a smirk, amusement making his eyes dance, and she feels herself relax, smiling back at him.
Iris coos over how cute they are until Caitlin flushes, pulling herself closer to Harry's hold, resisting the urge to bury her face in his chest. She compromises by resting her head on his shoulder, causing them all to tease her all the more. "Are you sure you didn't pay her?" Barry laughs, and Harry tenses under her touch.
"Maybe I found men my age a little too immature." The connotations of her words were not at all hidden, Iris and Cisco unable to stifle their laughter as Barry pauses, ears going red as he processes her words. He pouts, ignoring his girlfriend as she tries to placate him, Iris throwing Caitlin a wicked smile as she leads him away. Harry relaxes after that, his gaze lingering on the woman holding his hand, her head tilted back in laughter at something Cisco said. She's clearly a consummate actress, if that indicated anything, but she was beautiful and not even she could fake the kindness that shone in her eyes, the beauty of the soul.
He still needs some guidance from Caitlin, the woman taking initiative, pulling his arm around her waist, entwining their fingers. It wasn't much, subtle hints to the world that they were together, but nothing that should make him uncomfortable.
Which is why he couldn't find a reason for why he was escaping.
He finds himself on the balcony, overlooking the landscape, focussing on the skies, on the stars painted on the inky black canvass that was the sky.
"Hey." He doesn't flinch at her presence behind him, doesn't acknowledge her as she leans on the barricade with him. "It's beautiful out here. The stars," she pauses, a long exhale leaving her, almost wistful as she continues to marvel at the creation around them. "They're missing you, you know. Jesse won't say anything, but she keeps turning her head to find you in the crowd." She stops beside him, hands resting on the rail, a hairbreadth away from his own. But she doesn't look to him, not yet.
"I'm sorry." It tumbles out without permission; his head drooping as he says the words that had been on his mind.
"For what?" She sounds genuinely confused, brows furrowing as she turns to face him, gaze scrutinising as she watches his every flicker and tick.
"About this afternoon."
"That's not what you're apologising for." She is astute, he notices. He grins despite himself.
"Okay true," he concedes. "But I - I haven't really been the greatest fake boyfriend in the world, not with the awkwardness." She hums in agreement, but the weight of her gaze makes him feel like she's waiting for more. "I'm not making your job any easier," he adds, "especially by doing what I did this afternoon. You're helping me and I'm not really helping myself." She grins at his words, turning to look at him, the distance between them extending at the move. He isn't quite sure how he feels about that. And he certainly isn't sure why it is such a big thing for him to notice.
"Well you're forgiven." Her eyes seem to smile at him, moonlight shining at the sight leaves his mouth dry. "We still have a while before they actually get married, I don’t think it would be a good idea to hate each other for the whole trip." He manages to huff out a laugh, eyes flickering over her as she continues to watch him. "That does mean you can't seem so scared every time I touch you."
"It's ah," he stumbles over his words, unsure whether he should be telling her anything at all. "It's been a while since I've had anyone. After Jesse's mother died..." He drifts off, head jerking up as he feels her hand on his, the intensity of her gaze burning through to his soul. He thinks about how difficult it was to fall in love after his wife, his fear of opening up to another only to have her taken away once more crippling the possibility of ever meeting someone. "I had Jesse," he says instead, "I had my daughter and my work and I didn't need anyone else." She squeezes the top of his hand, and he shifts it so he could hold it more easily, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. He stares absentminded at the movement, hypnotised, as though it were not him that was doing it. "I'll try and be better."
"We should probably go back then," she suggests.
But he doesn't want to, doesn't want her to either. He thinks that in other circumstances that thought might scare him, but in that moment all he feels is peace. "You go," he responds, "I think I'll stay out here for a bit longer."
"Come on back," she takes a step closer, head tilted up to look him in the eyes. he holds her gaze, only breaking it once, a flicker down to her lips, so fast she wouldn't notice. it's not the first time he would admit she was a beautiful lady, but it's the first time he really thought about it.
"I don't think I ever told you about how beautiful you look tonight." he distracts with. She flushes in response, a smile on her face as she watches him through her lashes. "You do," he leans closer to her. "Absolutely remarkable." His hands glide over her forearm, the hairs on her skin rising at the touch. Her pulse quickens, and he can see it in the gentle moonlight, gaze sliding from the side of her neck to her darkened eyes, mouth slightly parted. He affects her. But she just as easily affects him.
His hands find her neck, thumb brushing over her pulse point, the frequent throb has his heart pausing for a moment. He thinks he should walk away, thinks he should stop the growing fondness he has for her. He can't. He leans closer.
Cisco clears his throat, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a chesire grin on his face as they jump apart, Harry glaring at the intruder.
"Party's in here guys." Cisco smirks at them, turning on his heel, whistling to himself. They go red, trailing behind him as they return to the friends they had left behind. But there is a change, and Harry does make an effort, his hands always brushing against her lower back, pressing against it at times. It leaves Caitlin flustered the first time he does it, Caitlin stopping mid-sentence to meet his gaze. The others laugh, but she smiles, a step closer to him, the hand falling on her waist instead. He presses a kiss against her temple as she continues to regale a story to them, Harry focussing more on the gentleness of her voice and the softness of her body than the words coming from her mouth. He tries to seem in love with her.
(He thinks that the acting may come a little too easy for him).
"So Caitlin," Iris starts. "Tell us how you met Harry and swept him off his feet."
He huffs, letting go of Caitlin to cross his arms over his chest. "And why do you think she asked me instead of the reverse?" He glared as they all laughed at his words, turning it towards Caitlin as she pats him consolingly on the shoulder before softening.
"Well did you?" she asks, laughing as he turns his head from the group, grumbling to himself. "Is that a no?" Iris teases, eyes sparkling as she watches Caitlin nod.
"I was at a conference, he was there. I took him out to to coffee to pick his brain for a bit and we just hit it off."
"You hit it off?" Wally interrupts sceptically, smiling innocently as Harry threw him a withering glare.
"Okay fine, he was a little prickly. A lot prickly," she amends, biting back her smile. "But he was smart and I admired his intelligence. And he isn't that bad to look at." Caitlin winks at him, playful laughter leaving her mouth and he finds himself responding in kind, a smile on his lips.
"So wait -" Jesse interrupts, wrinkling her nose at Caitlin's previous words. "You actually enjoy his science babble? Like - you really enjoy it?" There is mock disbelief in the girl's tone, and Caitlin finds herself laughing at it.
"Given I have 2 doctorates and a PhD, I'm sure I'm just as guilty as he is when it comes to science babble." They look at her, a mixture of awe and admiration.
"Okay come on," Cisco cries. "You cannot be that perfect. It's not fair to the rest of us. Intelligent like me, patience of a saint if you're dealing with him."
"Okay you got me," she sighs dramatically, "I'm a serial killer." They all turn to her, some scrutinising, other's in disbelief. One fearful. "My name is Killer Frost and I feed off other people to live." She shrugs, "and maybe just for fun too."
"Ha ha," Cisco mutters sarcastically, his lips twitching with a smile wanting to be released. "You're hilarious. A real comedian. You guys really are soulmate's."
“Well,” Jesse interrupts, a smile on her face. “You’re going to fit in well here. Just a bunch of nerds geeking out over science a lot.”
“Hey!” Iris jokes, “I resent that.” Jesse shrugs unapologetically, and Barry presses butterfly kisses across her cheek and forehead in recompense. It's a distraction neither of them complain about, Jesse and Caitlin discussing biochemistry, Harry and to an extent Cisco chipping in. It then diverges, Jesse and Caitlin talking far too advance for the boys to keep up with, Cisco and Harry finalising the younger man's transition to STAR Labs in a few months. But then there is a lull, the group of them unsure how the dynamic works with an extra person asses in the mix.
"So," Cisco starts, a smirk plastered on his face as he eyes the couple. "How is the old man with romance? Didn't think he had a romantic bone in his body."
"Oh there are small things," she blushes, stealing a quick glance at him. "He does pay attention, he studied some biochemistry just so that he could keep up with my conversations. And if I'm ever kidnapped by a telepathic gorilla, he's offered to rescue me, so that's good." They laugh and his eyes twinkle in amusement, a look shared between the pair of them. She doesn't look away as she continues, a bashful smile on her lips as the words come out. "He may have seduced me with science, but I fell in love with his heart, his dedication. There is nothing he won’t do for those he loves. And I don't regret a thing."
He pulls her against his side, a kiss against the side of her temple, lingering as his eyes close. Harry knows it is fake, that he is paying her for every word, but for a quick moment he pretends that it is real, that there is someone that feels that way for him. He hadn't felt such a longing for it in a long, long time, but it had returned with a vengeance, striking him in the heart. And he refuses to acknowledge the part of him which desires it to be her.
He tries to ignore it the entire night.
He fails.
They go home, awkward as Jesse sits in the back seat, rambling on about the upcoming wedding, pestering Caitlin about details of her father outside of home life. Caitlin answers as vague as she can, using whatever information she had gathered before hand. Jesse seems satisfied and exhausted, nodding off as Caitlin explained the details of their first date, fake as it was, with a smile on her face, fondness in her voice as she talked of renting a observatory, dinner beneath the stars.
They arrive at Jesse's apartment, Harry unbuckling himself to open her door, nudging her awake. There is such a tenderness in his movements, the soft whisper of Jesse's name on his lips, the gentle hand on her shoulder as he attempt to rouse her, it feels like she is intruding on a personal moment and Caitlin averts her eyes in guilt for watching. Jesse does wake up, confusion in her voice when she questions where they are.
"Your apartment." His tiredness leaks into his voice, a little rough as he snaps at her.
"No" she moans, her eyes drooping closed as she shakes her head. "We thought it'd be cute to not share an apartment until we get married. I've been living in your house for a month now." She grumbles silently to herself, crossing her arms and pouting. "I thought you would have noticed my stuff in the house. And the fact you actually have edible food in the fridge."
Harry looks at her in disbelief, unable to turn to Caitlin, afraid of her reaction. The plan had been to move Caitlin into Jesse's old room while they were going through with the charade, her things were only to remain in Harry's room until the engagement party had finished. He didn't want to turn his mind to what this would mean for them. The tension is thick when he returns to the driver's seat, not that Jesse notices, the girl falling back to sleep. There is a rigidness in Caitlin's frame that he had never seen before. It worries him. The drive there is far too quick, Jesse jumping out of the car as soon as she wakes up, Caitlin and Harry leaving it far more reluctantly. They drag their feet into the house, watching the younger girl run up the stairs.
"You can take the bed," Harry mutters, cursing their luck. "I think I'll take the other spare." And he moves to do so, grabbing blankets and spare pillows. Caitlin hovers over his side, wringing her fingers as he prepares for bed. She follows him around, waiting by the bedroom door as he slips in, changing from his suit into some pajamas. She jumps as the door opens beside her, eyes averted as he wanders out, pants hanging low and chest bare. "All yours," he sighs, moving his glasses so that he could rub his eyes, dragging his feet as he moves passed his room to the other bedroom.
"What are you doing?" Jesse's sleepy voice rings out, startling them both as she wanders up the stairs, a cup of milk in her hands.
"I was going to sleep."
"Where exactly? Why aren't you both in his room." The assumption awakens them more than her sudden appearance, Harry's heart like a jackhammer in his chest, and he would have sworn Jesse could hear it, the girl looking at him strangely, brows furrowing as she continues to stare.
"Oh no no no." Caitlin sputters, "we don't - it's not like that. I -"
"You guys don't need to lie to me," Jesse teases, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust. "I know what adults do when they’re in love. I don't care as long as I don’t hear you." Caitlin turns a healthy red at the implications of her words, and Harry raises an eyebrow, at a loss for words. " 'kay good night you guys." Jesse presses a kiss on his cheek and waves goodbye to Caitlin, leaving them both in front of his door.
Her eyes flirt around the hallway, unable to meet his own. He huffs in annoyance before tugging her inside, cursing his daughter and her meddling habits. Caitlin grabs her clothes and locks herself in the bathroom, hesitantly approaching the bed. "We can share a bed, that's completely fine. Yep." He laughs at her nerves, no shame in his expression as she glares at him, slipping underneath the blankets.
That silences him, and they lay there, awkward and unsure how to proceed.
"Tell me about yourself." His voice startles her, but he sounds no less lucid than she feels.
"What are you looking for?" she asks. "You know everything about my education, where I grew up."
He hums in reply. "Tell me something you don't tell your other clients then."
There is silence, and he thinks that maybe she had elected to ignore him. He moves to roll over when she breaks through the silence. "I was engaged once. His name was Ronnie." Her voice was strained and it eats up at him, the pain far too much for what was supposed to be a light conversation. "He died in a fire accident," her breath hitches. "He was only there because I really wanted to have our wedding there. He went to scout the place for me, and he didn't know how to not help the other people inside when it lit on fire." A sound suspiciously like a sniffle echoes through the room. Neither of them acknowledge it. "They found his body lost in the burnt rubble."
He is lost for words. A thought flutters through his mind, of pulling her close, into his chest. Of whispering comforting words into her hair. The thought scares him. "I'm sorry." He looks for more words, remembering how he hated those particular one's when his wife left. "But what's most important is who we become when we lose those we love. And you're a beautiful person Caitlin, never forget that." He watches her in the darkness, her shoulders shaking slightly. "I - I shouldn't have said anything."
She turns to him quickly. He can see the tear streaks down her face, hands itching to wipe them away, to wrap themselves around her and pull her to his chest. It scares him how much he feels, how fiercely he wants to protect her. Whether it be from her own pain, or something as ridiculous as a telepathic gorilla. "No, don't do that." She wipes away her own tears, and her movements are bewitching, stealing his attention, his thoughts away from his control. "Please don't apologise. It’s true. And I’ve moved on,” a wet snort leaves her mouth. “I swear I have.”
"Why did you choose this?" She laughs at his sudden change in topic; it was watery and thick with tears. It was beautiful. "Surely you would prefer spending all your time studying genetic anomalies and the effects of the metaphysical world."
"Oh I do," her eyes light up. "And I can't imagine doing anything different. But those degrees are expensive," she shrugs. "It's a good way to pay off my debt - I get paid a lot, I choose my hours. I set guidelines." She cocks her head, digging it more firmly into the pillow. "What about you? Why are you doing this?"
And he doesn't know what it is about this woman in his bed, about the darkness of night that makes him forget consequences. "Jesse's mother died years ago, god so many years ago. Time blurs after a while, and I was fine without all of -" he struggles for a words. "Without this. But Jesse, she doesn't get it." He sighs. "She worries about me, she thinks that I'm alive, but I'm not living."
"You must really love her to do that." His gaze is piercing, and she wonders if facing him was a terrible mistake. "You care about the opinions of very few people. And even then, not enough to do this."
"Yeah, well, she's the only thing I care about." It saddens him to hear the words out loud; he had accepted that truth long ago, his work and his daughter all he ever thought about, but hearing, seeing the reaction on her face at his words, the way it falls - it makes him think that maybe he was missing out. But she had youth on her side, a future. He didn't have access to that.
"And she loves you too." She smiles at him and he finds himself reciprocating. "I'm good at my job because I can read people, and that girl - there is no one she loves more than you." She dimples at him, "Maybe Wally though." He growls playfully at her, tickling her until there was a bang on the wall, Caitlin muffling her laughter with her hand as he cracks a wide smile, before yawning. It is a pleasant shift in the atmosphere from before, and he feels lighter. "They all love you, you know that right?" And she sees something in his expression, she must, because the smile fades, a more sombre expression taking its place. "You love them and they love you," a beat, then a whisper. "I want that." She shifts onto her back, not able to face him any more, the words out in the open. It takes him aback, Harry watching her silhouette, her struggle to retain her composure.
"You will," he rasps, and god he had never wanted to be more right in his life. "Look how much they care for you already, you won them over in one night. Of course you'll find it easily."
She laughs sharply. "They like who you paid me to be."
"Aren't you being yourself?"
"I'm being your girlfriend. That's the title and the only thing they care about. That i'm smart enough for you, that i'm kind enough, that I'll make you happy... and after this wedding, we'll both go back and I'll never see any of you all again anyway." Her words are like a vice around his heart, squeezing it tightly.
"Snow," He whispers into the air helplessly, lost.
"Maybe I'm not meant to be happy." And he can't stand it, can't stand those words, can't stand hearing them from her lips, can't stand the idea that she would believe. He takes her hand, the only thing he could think of to show his support for her. She turns her head to face him again. There are no tears this time, but the sadness still shining in her eyes. "No one's watching" she teases, "you don't have to pretend to be my doting boyfriend." He squeezes her hands at her words. She squeezes back.
"I don't care."
He wakes up with his face in her hair, his arm around her waist. He wakes up happy.
He's hesitant to properly wake at all.
They all go out for coffee the next day, Iris' glowing recommendation of a bistro called CC Jitters leaving her excited at the thought. "Don't you think you should cut down on your coffee intake," Harry whispers in her ear as the group stroll down the footpath to the place. Caitlin has to force herself to remain calm, even as his hand on her waist burns through her clothing, his thumb running small circles against her hipbone. She turns her head at his comment, eyebrow arched as he maintains eye contract, refusing to back down, not even from this.
"No."
The group watch them with large smiles, Jesse taking photos on her phone, hiding it with a laugh as Harry left Caitlin's side to lunge for it. She feels a little lost without him by her side, exposed to the others. But then Cisco sidles by her side, asking about her work at Mercury Labs. It's nice to talk about her work with someone who was excited to hear about it, the man almost skipping as she laughs about synthetic genetic mutations and the potential of 'metahumans' with him. She almost forgets that she'd only met him yesterday, the pair of them shooting off ideas with each other, Caitlin promising to get him in touch with Felicity, a technical whiz she was best friends with, the hacker most definitely willing to help Cisco with his own skills. Her cheeks ache from smiling and laughing, Cisco turning his warm eyes and bright smile to her as he asks if he could steal her away from Harry, denials and confessions of devotion to Harry on her tongue. Cisco clicks his tongue and snaps his fingers, a cheeky grin on his face as Harry turns to watch them, a scrutinising look as his gaze flickers between the two of them, distracted from the conversation with Jesse.
They enter the small coffee place, heading for the largest booth they had available, Iris waving her friend over so they could all order together. They all order promptly, Caitlin glaring at Harry as he tuts quietly under his breath. They all order but Cisco, the young man stuttering at the waitress' presence, Iris introducing Kendra to Cisco, her voice low and teasing and thick with innuendo. He takes his time, twirling a lock on his left index finger, biting his bottom lip as he scans the menu.
"I’d like one tall mocha please," Cisco orders, a smirk on his face as he winks at her. His confidence fades however, when she pauses, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "No, no, no. that wasn't a pick up line, I really do want a mocha, not you." He winces at the choice of words, completely missing the beginnings of a smile on her lips. "Not that I don't want you either. I mean, you're beautiful and you have a great smile but I really do just want the drink."
"Alright then." And Kendra walks away, smiling to herself.
"Gosh, guys you could have stopped that at any time," he bemoans leaning back against the support of the chair, eyes closed and head facing heavenward as he prays for those last moments to be reversed, for someone to run back through time and give him the opportunity to start their conversation over.
"And miss you squirm like that Ramon? Never," Harry laughs, a deep rich tone that had Caitlin sitting up straight, her insides melting at its smoothness.
"You live here Cisco, you're going to face her every day if you want your caffeine fix." Iris grins, her coffee buddy moaning at her words.
"Oh gosh," he whimpers, the realisation striking him. "Kill me now."
"Gladly Ramon," Harry snaps, "the world would be a much quieter place."
"I can perform a lobotomy," Caitlin hisses under her breath, a challenge sparkling in her eyes. "That might help you."
Cisco pouts, arms crossed as Harry barks out a laugh, the arm around Caitlin's shoulder pulling her closer against his side. "I'm not sure I'm going to like you anymore."
"I like her," Jesse nods, eyeing them with a hint of a smile on her lips.
"So do I and since I'm the only opinion that matters here..." He tugs her closer to him, his arm around her shoulder tightening until she gives in, leaning against his side, looking up at him with a beaming smile on her face. He looks down, meeting her gaze, a reciprocal smile on his own.
"Good," she murmurs softly. "Because I really like you too."
It is Cisco who gets the last laugh, crowing over them when he finds on his napkin her name and number.
They can't all spend the entire day together, Iris and Barry heading off to work and then date-night after, Cisco pouting that he'd be the fifth wheel with everyone. Caitlin tries to comfort him, a strange affinity with the man, telling him to stay. But he laughs off her attempts, telling her about his lab and the inventions he worked on in his spare time. He invites her and she briefly considers saying yes, stealing a look at Harry while contemplating it. And she catches sight of him, blue eyes twinkling as he watches Jesse in adoration, Jesse unaware her father was watching her, Harry unaware of his date watching him. He's an attractive man, she can't deny that, but his intelligence, his fierce love of those close to him, it was a small piece of perfection in human form. She must linger for too long because Cisco only gets her attention back by laughing, the sound startling her back into looking at him. The mock gagging is a bit much, but the accompanying smile as he tells her to stay with the love of her life is enough to have her beaming back towards him. She tells herself later on it is because that means they were convincing, but that isn't enough to explain the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of them ever being together.
They have a double date of sorts, Harry driving them out into parkland, eyes twinkling as he pulls out a picnic basket from the boot of his car. Jesse runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck, squealing in his ear as she thanks him over and over for the surprise. He grins at her embrace, returning it, his eyes closing as he basks in one of the joy of the moment.
Caitlin stands off to the side, watching as they pull away, teasing whispers exchanged, Wally joining in. She doesn't know what to do, smiling awkwardly as he gazes over his daughter's shoulder, catching her eye. Goosebumps erupt across her arm as she watches him disentangle himself from them, a soft look in his eye as he approaches her. It is a casual stroll, his hands in his jean pockets, wind blowing his hair around.
She laughs as he finally stands before her, Caitlin's hands raising, running through his hair, attempting to straighten it out. Her smile is like sunshine, and she is so distracted by attempting to control his hair she doesn't notice the shift, not until her eyes drop, catching his own. Caitlin's hands still, her breath hitches. His nostrils flare as he tries to control his breathing, light blue eyes no longer like a clear sky but a stormy sea.
"Harry?" It's like a question, her eyes searching his. And she isn't sure of the answer, Harry shutting his eyes tight, jaw clenched, tendons in his cheek moving underneath his skin.
It's' beautiful, she thinks, her hand drifting from the top of his head to the side of his face, stroking the muscles beneath her fingers. It is enough to trigger a reaction, eyes opening, flaring as she continues."Snow." It's a guttural sound, a plea, torn from the deepest part of his soul. She isn't quite sure what he's asking, with his tortured voice and burning eyes. She leans closer, pulled by an invisible force, lead by something she couldn't control. She could see the flecks in his eyes, could see the lines in his skin, could feel the hot puffs of air. Just a little closer and she -
"I could cut the sexual tension here with a knife." They jump apart at Jesse's voice, her grin wide, their faces sheepish. "You guys don't have to stop on my account," she teases, laughing at his grumbles. Caitlin pouts as he pulls away, opening the boot and grabbing the picnic supplies. She stares wistfully at him, confused by her feelings, unsure of what she should be doing - drawing closer or running further away.
"Alright, let's go." It is brisk and he is already ahead of them all. She doesn't move for a moment, brows furrowed as she watches him march off determinedly. They were supposed to be a couple, they were supposed to at least try and pretend, but the signals she's getting are confusing to her - she can't imagine how they'd be to the others. She starts as she feels an arm slide into her.
"Sorry, I forget how difficult it is for him to show emotions sometimes."
Caitlin huffs; it wasn't supposed to be blatantly obvious to the others and yet. "I thought he would be more relaxed around you guys."
Jesse snorts, arm tightening around Caitlin's, tugging her closer. "I think he'd be worse." At Caitlin's look, she elaborates. "He's worried about our reaction. Which is ridiculous, but also, he struggles to express himself sometimes. When he's around strangers - who cares because he'll never see them again and well," she purses her lips, "I don't think they matter that much. Us though, we all mean the world to him whether he'll admit it or not." Jesse throws Caitlin a smile. "We all love you, but he's just worried. Don't worry, he'll loosen up soon. And when he does -" she rolls her eyes, cheeks aching from smiling so hard. "- Heaven help us."
"How can you be so sure?" Caitlin doesn't know why her voice comes out so small, a small quiver in her tone.
"You would have thought he hated Cisco when I first saw them together." At Caitlin's look, Jesse snickers. "Okay, fine. But it was a lot worse I swear. Caitlin listen to me." And she stops, holding Caitlin back. She struggles against her instincts to avert her eyes, fearful of what Jesse would see. But all Caitlin can see is honesty shining in Jesse's eyes, guilt welling up inside her. "He will soften up in front of us, don't worry. He's not ashamed I swear. Don't give up on him. Please." There is an intensity in her voice that makes Caitlin pause, something bubbling up inside her.
"I won't, I swear." She smiles at Jesse, the pair of them starting to walk again. "I think I'm just going to..." She drifts off, her eyes settling on his frame, her teeth tugging her bottom lip. Jesse eyes her, a sly smile on her lips as she lets go of Caitlin's arm, nudging her forward, an encouraging smile slipping on her face as she catches Caitlin's uncertainty. And she takes the moment in her grasp, striding forward, her steps faltering as she is by his side. He doesn't look at her, not for a while. But then she hears a sigh, eyes flickering to Harry as she hears rustling, eyes caught by the movement of him swapping the picnic basket from the hand between them to the hand on the outside. Her bottom lip is tender from the constant biting, and it's still caught between her teeth as she smiles at him, Harry's lips twitching as a shadow of a smile crosses his mouth. But it's enough for her, Caitlin turning ahead to watch the scenery. His hand sliding into her's is a delightful surprise, stealing her attention, even as he looks determinedly ahead.
She entwines their fingers, a giggle escaping her as she swings their hands around. He lets her do it, an amused expression on his face as he watches her light up at the action. There is someone playing the strings of his heart, and he feels like it's her, whether she realises it, whether he's allowed it, she has the power over him. And the idea will terrify him later on, but now.. now he will enjoy every blessed moment. She calms down after a few minutes, drifting closer to his side. "We're almost there," he murmurs, gaze fluttering around.
She lifts their hands, a kiss pressed against his knuckles. She smiles against his hand, Caitlin mouthing words at him. He can't understand them however, he can barely think outside the chaos of his mind, the thunderous beating of his heart. He wants to stop walking, wants to steal her away from the prying eyes of his daughter and her fiance, wants to ask for answers, demanding to know how she could affect him so much. But he does none of those things, only quirking an eyebrow at her, hoping that he would seem composed when he was anything but.
"They're watching," she whispers, and god, if it isn't a blow to his stomach.
He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from hers, afraid of what might be shining inside them. "Yes, of course."
She throws him a confused glance, one he doesn't respond to. Harry doesn't let go of her hand, the warmth of her palms seeping through his skin and wrapping itself around his heart, but he isn't as relaxed as before, muscles taut as he picks up his speed, almost dragging her along.
They reach their destination quickly, Harry dropping Caitlin's hand as though it were burning, busying himself with pulling out the picnic blanket and setting it all up. She offers to help, but he brushes her aside, barely a glance as he tells her to keep the other's company. There are words on the tip of her tongue which would sound suspiciously like 'I want to keep you company' if they were to come out, but they don't, Caitlin huffing at his antics and crossing her arms across her chest while Jesse and Wally meander their way up the path.
But soon the tension dissipates, Caitlin and Jesse exchanging the horror stories of a degree in bioengineering while eating sandwiches, Wally piping in, more focussed on stealing from Jesse's pasta salad than getting his own share. And Harry, Harry watches them all. He leans back, resting against the palms of his hands, a smile on his lips as he watches them all interact. There is a light, fluttery feeling in his stomach that leaves him breathless.
They eat until they can eat no more, Wally standing, stretching, before bowing lowly, hand outstretched before Jesse. "Would you give me the honour, ma'am, of allowing me to escort you around the gardens?"
Jesse laughs even while taking his hand, Wally pulling her up. "I should never have watched Pride and Prejudice with you. This obsession with walking around is ridiculous." But there is such fondness in her voice, Jesse pressed against his side, a soft kiss on his cheek as they tell Harry and Caitlin that they'd be back shortly.
She worries that it would be awkward after the couple leaves, worries that the tension from before would return - but it doesn't, Harry asking questions about her research. She gets so swept up in what she is saying, of Mercury Labs and Dr Tina McGee, that she doesn't realise she's rambling until his soft chuckle interrupts her. She blushes furiously, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself together.
"You're remarkable Snow, truly remarkable." There is nothing mocking in the statement, a genuineness ringing in his tone that has her blushing once more.
"I'm thinking you just like seeing me go red," she mutters, ducking her head in embarrassment. Harry says nothing in response, just smiling at her. They are distracted by the vibrations of Caitlin's phone, the woman reaching for it blindly.
But then her face pales at the sight of the name on her phone, not moving to answer or decline the call. He reaches for her knee, squeezing it tightly, her eyes finding his own. He takes her in, pursed lips and clenched jaw, eyes as hard as flint. "I'm just gonna..." she drifts off, motioning her head off to the left, opposite where Jesse and Wally were currently strolling. He nods to her and her shoulders fall a fraction, as though a small weight had been lifted off of her. She leaves him alone, Harry choosing to lay across the mat, eyes on the clouds floating above them. He must fall asleep because he's awaken to a shadow crossing over his face.
"Dad are you okay?" The voice of his daughter startles him, and he cracks his eyes open, Jesse hovering above him.
"I am allowed to relax," he snipes. "And if you even think of calling me old I'll make you regret it." She smiles at him, but her attention is soon stolen by something in the distance.
"Dad, is something wrong with Caitlin?"
"She had a phone call, why?"
"I think that call is over." And he lifts himself up, turning his head to see her a small distance away, Caitlin sitting on the ground, her knees pulled against her chest and face buried between them. "I think you should - " But he was already moving, pushing himself into a standing position, not a word directed to Wally or Jesse, his eyes firmly focussed on Caitlin.
He wanders to her, hand outstretched before her. She lifts up her teary face, eyes squinting, as though she couldn't see him properly, as though in disbelief. The moment stretches on, and he wonders if he should retract the hand and walk away, but before he can act she slides her thin fingers into his open palm. He tightens his grip on her, Caitlin using him as an anchor to lift herself up from the ground.
He takes advantage of the moment, Harry tugging her towards him, Caitlin falling into his chest, her own heaving as she sobs against him. It aches in a place deep within him to hear her ragged breaths, to feel the wetness of her tears soak his shirt.
"Mother, she raised me alone after my father died, and I love her." Her sentence cuts off, a ragged breath as she tries to control her emotions. "But god, she can be so cold sometimes." He presses a kiss to her temple, rubbing her back as she cries her tears away, holding her tightly. Seconds, minutes, hours later, he isn't quite sure, but she stops crying, a tear stained face pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, her own blood shot and puffy, a weak smile on her lips. Gratitude shines in her gaze, even if no words are spoken. He nods in response, hand raising to cup her cheek, thumbs stroking her cheeks, the wetness on his thumb pads a knife to his heart.
It is though time stops around them, Harry forgetting they had come with other people, forgetting that this was all make believe. Because her emotions, his emotions - they were all very real to him. This urge to hold her, to protect her from the cruelties of the world, to care and adore her the way she deserved. Her eyes shine under the sunlight, and he hates that they are still glazed from the tears earlier, that this image of beauty before him had brushstrokes of pain throughout it.
"We should ah -" He is temporarily at a loss for words, knowing what he wants to say yet unable to get them out. Especially when they are so diametrically opposite to what he wants to happen. "We should join them again, shouldn't we?" Harry doesn't know why or how those last words slipped out, only knows that he wants her to say no, wants her to wrap her arms around his torso and lean into him, this world away from reality so much more appealing than anything else.
Caitlin doesn't answer for a long while, eyes searching his own. She lifts her hands to the side of her face, her smaller palms surrounding his larger one's, lightly pulling them away from the sides of her face, keeping them close to her face. She doesn't look away from his gaze, the plethora of emotions shining in them sending her inside twisting. She doesn't look away, not as she brings each hand to her, pressing a soft kiss on the insides of his wrists, the touch so delicate he thinks he would have imagined it all if not for the fact he was watching her unblinking, unable to look away. The second one lingers. His breath hitches. "Yeah," she concedes finally, dropping their hands down, and Harry for the life of him, has no idea what she's agreeing to. "We should go back. Don't want them to worry."
And they do reluctantly return to the other pair, cheeks red as they walk in on Jesse and Wally exchanging heated kisses, muffled moans turning into horrified shrieks as Jesse tries to hide herself from them in embarrassment, Wally shielding her from their sight, laughing as she curses them and their terrible timing. Harry glares in response, muttering under his breath about how she was still his daughter and that he didn't need to see things like that. He is only distracted by a muffled laugh, turning his accusatory gaze to Caitlin who was hiding her laugh behind her hands.
It is enough to soften him, the shift from earlier a welcome change.
With a loud voice he declares the picnic over, relenting to Caitlin and Jesse's soft pleas to wait for sunset. And it is a wonderful decision, the couples leaning into each other, quiet whispers and gentle touches exchanged. Caitlin leans into his chest, a soft gasp as the sky turns pink and the sun sets beyond the horizon. "Thank you." Her voice breaks the silence that had descended upon them with the sunset, and his eyes drop down to her face, his heart beating hard at the look in her eyes.
"It was nothing," is his gruff reply, but he can't bring himself to look away from her.
"It wasn't. It was everything."
It's odd now, to slide into bed with each other after the day they had together, so much more odd than twenty four hours before. They weren't strangers, not anymore. And she couldn't deny the thrum of attraction in her veins, the urge to turn around, to curl into his hold. To touch him. It drives her to the point of distraction, Caitlin unable to sleep knowing that he was less than a foot away. And all it does is allow her to think, think about the feelings he was bringing out, the confusion inside her. He was intelligent and sweet, but he was paying her and didn't mean a thing.
She is restless, atmosphere thick with heat. She wants to kick the blankets off, wants to run run away from him, for her mind to be calm, to be unaffected by his presence, by his touch. But she's supposed to be professional, she shouldn't. She's struggling.
"That's it," he grumbles, his hands on her hips, pulling her flush against his chest. She blushes, especially with him burying his face in her neck. "Now stop it."
It leaves Caitlin speechless, the feeling of his body and hers, no space between them. And she tries to focus, choosing on his breathing, trying to steady her own, aligning them together. It's nice, she thinks. It's something she could get used to.
title: don’t you remember (the reason you loved me before)
pairing: snowells
rating: T
word count: 5 150
information: belated contribution to @snowellsweek. Day 3 - Amnesia au.
ao3
When Harry wakes up he remembers seeing a vision of beauty by his side, an angel crying, left hand clutching a pendant on her necklace tightly. Her dark hair cascades down, the tips of it tickling his face as she leans over him. He wants to reach out, to wipe away the tears streaming down her face, to soothe her worries.
He remembers the urge, the pain shooting through his body at the smallest of movements, he remembers her eyes widening, her voice ringing as she screams for a nurse.
He remembers how she takes his hand and oh, it isn't a pendant on her necklace but a ring.
He remembers the pull of unconsciousness, tugging him back to oblivion and he follows it willingly.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
But other than this, he remembers nothing.
The woman is gone when he reawakens, a young man around her age in her stead, his expression grim, a stark contrast to the shirt on his torso.
The young man isn't watching him, only staring into the distance, eyes glazed as he sits motionless. And he would have remained that way had a moan of pain not left Harry's mouth as his body slips into consciousness.
"Oh thank goodness, Jesse has been going mad." The guy breathes a sigh of relief, running his fingers though his long, black hair, a smile slipping easily into place. Harry wonders who Jesse is, who this man is, where the angel of before was now. Was she Jesse? he thinks. He is stronger now, pain throughout his body, but not enough to tempt him back into unconsciousness. He moves to pull himself up, wincing as fire rips through his veins as he determines to not give up. The other man must notice his agony, rushing to assist him adjust himself, hands on his back for support, hip for guidance. "You better not do any of that around Caitlin or she'll kill you herself," the guy jokes, but lurking underneath the humour in his voice Harry can place the concern, can see it swirling in his eyes.
He wants to ask who she is, but his mouth is dry and the very thought of speaking is so abhorrent he doesn't.
And then a whirlwind enters his room, throwing herself at him, arms around his neck, hugging him tight. He hisses at the contact, but finds himself disappointed when she lets go, horror and guilt across her expression as she backs away slowly. She wasn't the same lady as before, younger - a youthfulness and innocence surrounding her movements and response. "I'm so sorry dad," she whispers, aghast. "I - I am so sorry." Tears well up in her eyes and he moves to take her hand only a few inches away. It hurts, lord, it hurts, but the watery smile she gives him as she clutches it makes it worth while.
"It's okay... Jesse," he guesses. She cannot be Caitlin, not if Caitlin would be so annoyed at him moving himself. And Jesse was the only other name he had heard. He appears to be right, her shoulder's relaxing, the smile growing stronger. Harry tries to make sense of it all; she was his daughter, he could feel that in the depths of his heart, in the fibre of his being, but who was the guy in the corner? What had happened to him? His gaze flickers around the room for clues to help, and they land on the exit.
A couple hovers by the doorway, their heads peeking through, both anxiously watching him. Jesse ushers them in, the missing heat from her hand leaving him cold and empty inside.
The man is tall, and must be closer to him, Harry figures, the African-American woman at his side, more for support than out of concern for himself. "I'm glad your okay," she says, and oh - maybe he was wrong. There is relief in her gaze, eyes warm as she watches him sit up and talk to them. "We both are," she adds, looking up the guy she walked in with, cuddling closer to him as his grip on her waist tightens.
"Like I told Jesse here, I'm fine," he says dryly.
"You're not," the man says strongly. "There is no way you could be after all that." He scrambles for clues; but they offer up nothing. No names, no explanations. The thought of telling them he doesn't know who they are - who he is crosses his mind, but he brushes it aside easily. He doesn't know them and so he can't trust them. It's really that simple.
The older woman purses her lips together, worried eyes watching him, scrutinising his actions. He shifts himself uneasily under her gaze, wincing as he flinches due to the pain.
"Harry!" she jumps, rushing to his side before anyone could move. "I don't think you should be doing that. You're still in a lot of pain."
And maybe he got too confident in his ability, and maybe he gets so distracted by the aches in his body to stop himself, because he responds "Caitlin, I'm fine."
And the world stops.
He realises his mistake as soon as the words are out, all of their smiles sliding off of their faces, confusion on some, mild horror on others. "Dad," Jesse starts slowly. "Why did you call Iris Caitlin?"
"Sorry," he snaps. "But when you wake up from a coma after god-knows how long, sometimes the wrong name slips out." Jesse's face falls and he wants to apologise, but he can't. He won't. The atmosphere is tense, silence in the room until one person decides to speak.
"What's my name?" the first guy asks, chocolate eyes wide and Harry knows his doomed, that the secret is out. His head drops and the all swear. "You - you don't' know do you?" There is a quiver in the man's voice and Harry shakes his head, unable to meet any of their eyes. "Oh god, oh god." His voice is more shrill, and he's pacing around, spewing words and theories Harry cannot make either head nor tail of.
"Okay, someone needs to call Caitlin," Iris states, a firm voice when the others around her were panicking. "Now."
"There is no way she's coming if she finds out he's got no memory left. Hell I couldn't convince her to come for a month after the accident," her partner argues. (Barry, Jesse provides, still by Harry's side. And the guy pacing is Cisco.)
(She doesn't explain why Caitlin wouldn't come and visit him. He's too afraid to ask.)
"She needs to! He's our patient for god's sake. Who else is going to take care of him!" The couple argue with each other, Jesse taking his hand again, the pair watching the discussion unfold, Cisco watching the floor.
"You weren't there right after Ronnie," Cisco murmurs. "You met her nine months later - and you remember how devastated she was, even then." Something passes between Cisco and Barry, something neither him nor Jesse nor Iris was privy to.
"Oh," whispers Barry. "Oh crap."
Something twists inside him at the resignation in Cisco's tone, the sympathy and sadness in Barry's. It hurts more than his body, and he doesn't know why. It strains his mind to think of potential answers, no possibility having any chance of a kind solution to the issue.And he finds himself falling back into unconsciousness.
In fact, he welcomes it.
They move him to the labs after he is discharged, the doctors recommending a therapist, Cisco scoffing before responding that they already had a trained one.
They lie.
He lives in the labs, the bed hard and uncomfortable underneath him, Cisco hooking him up to machines before leaving every night, a worried look upon his face as he ensures nothing will happen while he rests. It takes him a week to calm down, to allow Harry to sleep without being monitored.
They test him constantly, test his reflexes, run through MRI scans, CT scans, anything they can think of to find a solution to his lack of memory. And all without their resident doctor. They don't progress very far.
It takes two weeks, two weeks for Caitlin to return to the labs, her presence startling him. Cisco had gone home hours ago, but she still had snuck in, rummaging around through papers, too distracted to notice him by the doorway. And he doesn't reveal himself, not immediately, instead leaning against the side, watching her move through the room. It is a thing of beauty and he feels a stirring inside of him at the sight of her. He coughs, Caitlin jumping at the sound, turning slowly.
"Hey," he starts slowly; she seems so skittish around him, as though the smallest thing would have her running away from him. He sits down a few feet from where she was working, and he worries he is too close. But she steels herself, moving towards him.
"Doctor Caitlin Snow," she states, arm outstretched, pained smile on her lips.
He stands up, meeting her midway. "Caitlin," he tests out loud for the first time. He had figured the Caitlin they had spoke of before and the woman he had first seen when he had woken up were one and the same, but confirmation was a blessed thing. She flinches at the name, pulling her hand from his. Harry doesn't know why she did it, can only assume it had something to do with the past he doesn't recall. "What's - what's wrong?" He can see those walls breaking down and tears welling up. "Caitlin," he says, but that only seems to make her more emotional. "Talk to me, what did I say?"
"You really don't remember me, do you?" Her voice is thick, and he knows that he hates it, hates seeing her like this. It is strange, to know something without remembering it, but he knows that he must have cared for her, knows there is very little he wouldn't do for her, knows he can't handle seeing her cry.
His shoulders slump, and he feels ashamed. "I'm sorry," he offers pitifully, a wet hiccup telling him the tears had started. He takes a step toward her, wanting to comfort her, needing to do so, but she backs away. Harry can envision how he wants it to go, walking to her, taking her hand. He imagines pulling her against his chest, comforting her while she cries, whispering soothing words while the tears calm down. She would pull away slightly, his hands wiping away the tear streaks across her face, and he'd tell her he was sorry and that she was beautiful, god she was beautiful, and that he hopes that they were close before, because he couldn't envision a life where they wouldn't be.
He is hit with such a need to hold her, to kiss her, it takes his breath away. He fists his hands by his side to restrain himself; this angel had been haunting him for weeks after he had awoken, her face, her voice - and his want for her scares him.
But he doesn't kiss her- he does none of the things he wants to.
Instead he lets her run away.
She is there the next day, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. He wants to laugh at Cisco's open mouth, the young man trying, and failing, to speak. Harry's surprise, while just as strong, was much more subtly expressed, merely raising his eyebrows as he watches her. "You- You're here," Cisco finally stutters, joy in his voice.
"No Cisco, I'm a figment of your imagination," she says dryly, an amused expression on her face as he frowns, gaze flickering to Harry, ensuring the other man is seeing her too. She laughs aloud when he frowns, muttering about how his friends were the worst as he continued on with his work. "So," she starts hesitantly, clearing her throat and turning to Harry. "How are you feeling? Any new memories?" There is a vulnerability in her voice he doesn't understand; he feels as though he is trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces, without any picture to base it off.
"No," he shakes his head, his heart twisting as her face falls for just a fraction of a moment. He shouldn't notice it, but he does. And he doesn't understand why it hurts him so much. They must have been close, he surmises. But why wouldn't she visit him earlier - why avoid him when she knows he is alive?
"Well, let's try and change that shall we?" Her smile is weak, the chipper tone not ringing true. He nods to her, grunts out his thanks, but they are interrupted when Jesse and Wally return with lunch, his daughter pausing at the entrance.
"Caitlin?" she says breathily, her eyes lighting up. She zooms to her, arms thrown around her in a tight embrace. Wally follows behind, an adoring smile on his face as he watches Jesse cling to the doctor. And Harry... he watches in awe at the way his daughter melts against Caitlin, the stresses of having a father who didn't remember their life together lifted at the touch of one other person. Caitlin, she doesn't flinch at the contact, her arms wrapping around the younger girl and her smile,
it was the first truthful smile Harry had seen on her face. And it was breathtaking. Her eyelids flutter closed and she soaks in the hug, arms tightening a little too much.
"What are you doing here?" Jesse mumbles against her shoulder, unwilling to let go either.
"Your dad needs a doctor," she replies. "And you'll always have me." He feels like there is an undercurrent of something in her words, a promise that was made long ago, one he should remember. One he does not.
They do pull away, eventually, reluctantly. "We need to get you into your routine again," she suggests, looking over Jesse's shoulder to address him. "Trapping you down here is not working, so we'll let you free to roam the labs, to return to your apartment. That way we can see what type of memory loss you're suffering from." He looks at her, eyebrows furrowing. She shrugs helplessly in response. "How are we supposed to know whether you're still the genius you were before you lost your memories, or whether you still like Big Belly Burger?"
He lights up at the mention, though he doesn't remember the company at all, but it dims as her expression changes. "What?"
"Nothing, just - nothing." She sighs to herself, pulling herself away from everyone, shutting them all out without anyone else realising. "Jesse remember to take him home tonight. And try and not give him any clues - he may be vulnerable to suggestion in his condition."
Jesse brightens at the words. "And are you - "
"Going to need a quick chat with you later? Yes." Caitlin finishes, eyebrows raised. Jesse, to her credit, looks Caitlin squarely in the eyes. He would assume it to be in confidence if he couldn't see the flash of hurt in her eyes.
"I ahh, I think I'll start exploring now." He walks off before they could stop him; he knew that the cause if the disagreement was himself, and he feels unsettled by the idea. They don't call him back, they don't chase him.
And so he walks alone.
He doesn't mean to stumble across their conversation, he was only familiarising himself with the layout of STAR Labs -only now allowed to roam it freely, but once he had caught sight of them he couldn't move away.
"You- you're not coming home then?" Jesse asks, looking up to Caitlin, a tremour in her voice. The older woman sighs, a hand on Jesse's shoulder as she struggles to find the words.
"I don't think it would be wise, not with his condition."
"But where will you go?"
"I've still got my apartment, my clothes are still there, it's an easy commute to work." The words seem forced, and he wants to know why, why she hasn't been living there, why it is so hard for her to go back.
"You haven't lived there for months!" Jesse exclaims, hands thrown in the air. "He needs you," a quiet moment then, "I need you."
"Oh Jesse, I can't - " She takes a shuddering breath. "I can't be there, you know that right? It might mess up his memory; I want him to remember, I really do, but if it's too confusing or too much at once he might never have a chance to come to it on his own; he may never remember the past. Or -" It is a shaky inhale and Jesse reaches for her hand, squeezing it tight as Caitlin wipes away a tear. "he may not have the same feelings towards things" she hesitates, "or people that he did previously. He could have different tastes, and I can't control that Jesse. And I don't think I could live with myself if I did anything to ruin his chances of remembering." There is a flicker of a smile, and he feels as though he is watching her build up her walls, her shoulders straightening, her face less of a canvas and more a completed painting. "It's not for forever," she offers.
"It might be," Jesse responds despondently. And Caitlin doesn't try to deny her words.
"I'll be by before you guys head home to pick up all my things and photos." Jesse's body jerks away from Caitlin at the words, as though her mere presence would burn her. But Caitlin ploughs on. "I'll drop my key there." and oh, she lived with them? he muses. He'd assumed she had stayed over to care for Jesse while he was in a coma, but now he wasn't so sure. How close were they?
"But maybe if he saw those pictures he would remember," Jesse tries arguing, "You're both so happy in them." The words become quieter and quieter, and he is left with more questions than answers.
"Or they could leave him more confused than before and affect his recovery Jesse. This - this is better."
And he makes his escape before they catch him, questions swirling in his mind, Jesse's voice echoing in his mind.
Better? Better for who Caitlin?
(and Caitlin's response.
sometimes I don't know.)
They have daily meetings, the routine he formed one he enjoyed as much as the situation allowed. Breakfast with Jesse (the girl snorting at his expression when she poured him cereal. He learns the hard way his taste buds have retained their memory), before heading to the lab, moving around between Cisco and Caitlin's research.
They beam at him whenever he would solve an issue with an equation he didn't remember learning, and it becomes unnerving after a while, Harry faltering in his movements, mind suddenly blank when they look at him in expectation. Caitlin theorises that the memories are there and are instinctual, but the pressure he is under blocks the signals, causing the mind blanks.
He smiles at her appreciatively when she tells Cisco (tells them both) to just let him be.
And at the end of every day, Cisco heading home, is when they have their meetings. Over months he remembers more, flashes of similar incidents coming to him, words or actions triggering a memory. It excites him. It frustrates him. She explains to him calmly that the brain is complex, that there is no one way for his memories to return, if they return at all. And he growls, because he knows that. He knows that he may never get them back, may get them in pieces, may wake up one morning and have them fully restored. He knows that intellectually, but accepting it is another matter entirely.
He lashes out sometimes, not with fists but with words, Caitlin the victim when he has a memory he'd rather forget, prodding him to talk about parts of his life he'd prefer be a blank void.
"What about your ring," he asks one time bitingly. "The one around your neck." Her hands move to clasp it immediately. "Since you're so insistent on delving into my past, how about we talk about yours."
"This meeting is over." Her voice cracks, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Come back when you stop being such an idiot."
He regrets his words immediately, hands fisting by his side to stop himself from reaching for her. "Caitlin," he tries, but she doesn't hear him, hands wiping away the falling tears. He hears her sniffles long after she leaves the room. It haunts him.
("I'm sorry," he says, offering her a box of chocolates, the sleepless night showing itself on his face. Her cold eyes soften at the sight.
"My favourite," she replies
"I know.")
"Caitlin." he calls out, the woman looking at him with those sad eyes of hers, the one flaw in the schooling of her emotions. She could hold herself so well, but the eyes were the window to her soul, so raw and charged.
"Yeah," she responds, concern washing over her expression when he says nothing, piercing blue focussed on her unwaveringly. She shuffles under its intensity, cheeks burning as she breaks eye contact. "Harry, are you okay?"
He takes a step forward, scanning her face, looking for something and she didn't know what. "Snow," he tests out, and he sees the shift, her being lighting up at the nickname.
"You remembered something!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around him before she could stop herself. He stiffens at the touch, not ready for the contact. She kept every touch professional, clinical - only done if she needed to, never for long. It had left him confused, a feeling of missing something he couldn't remember, a desire to touch her when he had no reason to. He knew he should be trying to act instinctually, to let natural movements take place - but he couldn't, not when she would always shy away from his touch. But now, her face against his chest, arms around his waist - he feels like he is home once more. He melts against her, the hug lingering for too long, neither of them wanting to let go.
But they do, eventually. It feels a little awkward, Caitlin biting her bottom lip, eyes flickering across his face. Harry doesn't know what to say to her; the words 'I missed this' are on the tip of his tongue, but he can't force them out. He can already imagine her response, Caitlin laughing off the words, telling him he can't miss something he never had.
(He thinks that would be the worst - at least now he could pretend their past was close, but if she ever denied it... he didn't know how he'd cope with that)
He is silent for too long though, and she is extracting herself out of his hold, his hands still holding on to her waist. She gives him a flimsy smile, apologies on her tongue as she says she needs to be elsewhere. He knows she's lying, but he still nods to her, telling her it's okay.
She runs away from him again, and again he doesn't follow.
He realises that he's falling for her as he watches her leave. He's falling for the kindness in her eyes every time she speaks to his daughter, he's falling for her persistence in helping him, even when he's a bastard who doesn't deserve it. He's falling for her sweetness and strength, for the way she laughs and the way she cries, for ever blessed part of her that she decides to show him, and those she doesn't realise he can see.
And he doesn't know if he could hold any hope she feels anything similar.
He doesn't know if he'll have the strength to do so and be wrong.
"So, are you remembering anything?" she prods him patiently, another session rolling by, Harry lounging on one of the medical beds in the lab.
"Snow, you're a tremendous scientist," he whispers, mind elsewhere, in a memory he can't believe he had ever forgotten. "But you're an even better person." He blinks repeatedly, returning to this world, brows coming together as he watches her sit stiffly, jaw clenched. And it is most definitely a memory, and it stings that he doesn't have any context, he doesn't know why he said that, why she hugged him; she had the benefit of remembering everything, while he - nothing.
(But he thinks that, if the situation were reversed, if he knew everything and she nothing, given the stirrings of his heart, he may just consider it a curse.)
"Harry," she starts, hesitant but determined. "When you have these flashbacks do you feel any... any emotions surrounding them?"
"Are you asking if I feel annoyance every time I remember something idiotic Ramon has done then yes." He knows she isn't asking that, knows it was relevant to that memory. But he doesn't know how to tell her what he felt, how he hugged her and never wanted to let go, how he remembered the scent of her perfume, the silkiness of her hair, the way his mind shut down and his heart soared.
"Oh." It is wooden, and he wants to tell her, feels the desire beat against his ribcage, wanting release. But he keeps silent. "Is there anything else?" He thinks he hears disappointment in her voice. He tells himself he is mistaken.
"No."
(He lies.
Because there was something; he dreams. He dreams that they are in a closet, trapped as some general from his past breaks in, searching for data he refused to let them have. Cisco and Jesse and Wally had all gone home for the night, but they were working well into the early hours of the morning for the solution to the formula. They weren't supposed to be inside the building when the raid happened. He dreams of not trusting the man, pulling her inside a hidden closet, holding her shaking body to his chest as they wait out the burglary. He had rested his head on the wall behind him, eyes closed and face tilted towards the ceiling as he cursed whoever decided to do this. But then she whispers his name, Harry looking back down, keenly aware of the little distance there was between him and Caitlin. He had been in love with her for so long and now, to have her against his chest, hands around his waist, it was heaven and hell.
Her lips are soft, hesitant under his own. And he guides them, his hands pulling her closer, swallowing her gasp of surprise and deepening the kiss. He can't think of anything but the way she tastes, the feel of her heat underneath his palms, the way she tilts her head, soft gasps and mewls leaving her. He almost pulls away from her, but her hands slide up his chest to his face, holding him against her, pressing herself closer. She snaps whatever restraint he has; he would never be able to go back after this - he had tried for so long, but knowing what every curve of her body felt like when pressed against his own, knowing how undone she could become with only a kiss, knowing she wanted this too - he may never be able to stop himself.
They pull away apart, chest heaving, looking at only each other, even as the world around them is thrown in to chaos. He dreams that her hand slips down to his chest, the other touching the side of his neck, fingers stroking the nape. "Harry?" There is a question in her voice,
he answers it with another kiss.
It gives him an idea.)
It takes another month before he decides to implement the idea, choosing instead to torture himself with visions of Caitlin at dinner with him, Caitlin on his couch, in his bed. It becomes harder to look at her and not have it flash before his eyes, Harry feeling uncomfortable to remain in the same room when all he can think about is kissing her, about sweeping her hair to the side and pressing his lips on her neck. He tries repressing the feelings, he truly does, but it only makes him feel worse, only causes them to increase in frequency and intensity.
Caitlin can sense the change, he is sure she does, her cheeks going red when she catches him staring, dismissing herself without reason when he finds himself lost in a fantasy where she is a star.
He doesn't know where he finds the courage, calling out her name before he could give himself a chance to second guess his decision. "I -" He draws out the syllable, struggling for the right word. "I have a hypothesis Snow, and I need your help." She walks towards where he is sitting, a hand on his shoulder as she crouches down, slipping it to his knee.
"What is it?" She looks at him so trustingly, he feels as though he may not be wrong, that it was all worth the risk. She was.
"I've been triggering memories by doing familiar things right?" She nods, a warm smile giving him strength to continue. "I've been having dreams, and I don't know if they're based on my memories or desires. If they are my memories they could trigger something." He takes a deep breath, "but if they're my desires I could -" he stops, regretting speaking. Harry pulls away from her touch, sliding out of his seat and pacing around the room. He stops finally, his back to her, afraid to watch her face."Forget I said anything."
"No - go on." And her voice seems breathless, and hope - he swears there is hope.
He turns on his heel before he can change his mind and stalks over to her. And he kisses her.
He kisses her, one hand on her hip pulling her toward him, another on her head, running his fingers through her flowing mane. She tastes like he had dreamed of, of warmth and honey and home. All thoughts of indecision flood out of his mind, instead focussing on the way she sighs against his lips, Caitlin kissing him back, hand clutching the fabric of his shirt, fisting it between her fingers. It is like a drug, the way she intoxicates him, and it is in his bloodstream, his whole body reacting to her touch.
It was everything he had imagined and more. Because this was happening now.
There is a reluctance to pull away, and Harry chases her lips down, resting his forehead on hers. He had forgotten what perfection was, only then reminded of it.
"So," she tries, eyes bright and chest heaving. His gaze drops to the ring on her necklace. He is unable to look away from it. "Do you remember?"