Barry/Caitlin, 1145 words, pg-rated
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And A Dad Who Watches Over Me
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Barry was on time tonight, probably for the first time in his life. Under his arm he cradled a bottle of Merlot encased in a pine box, finished with a dark blue bow. He'd changed his outfit more often than he had before his first date with Caitlin, and he's still none too sure his suit and tie are appropriate for the occasion, but he gave it his best shot. He's sure Caitlin will still have her say.
"Did you get it?" Caitlin opens the door in a rush, her eyes big with worry, her cheeks rosy from exertion. She urges him inside without another word and whisks him into the kitchen, as if a fire has been lit underneath her heels. Sliding into an oven mitt she opens the oven to give the roast a cursory glance, before she finally straightens and faces him, puffing out a breath that hits her bangs at the exact right angle to force them from her eyes.
"Took me an hour even with my speed," –he places the bottle carefully on the kitchen table– "but I got you your ridiculously specific vintage of Merlot."
Ignoring the clear deadpan in his voice, Caitlin's eyebrows rise along with an accusatory index finger. He slides a cautious step closer while she starts, "If you'd bought it when I told you–" and seamlessly quiets her with a kiss, lips pushed to hers before she can turn this into an argument not worth having. She's just nervous.
Caitlin hums and melts forward into his body, one of her hands tracing up his side as he playfully chases her lips with his.
"Hi," he breathes.
"I'm sorry," Caitlin offers in response, settling her forehead to his lips.
He rubs circles into the small of her back, quite content to simply stand here and hold her until their guest arrives. It's not every day that you introduce your boyfriend to your dad, so he understands how important today is – by the looks of it Caitlin's stress-baked a feast for about six people. Nothing he can't handle afterwards. "You know everything's going to be okay, right?"
Caitlin hugs herself closer, and he can vividly imagine the little pout to her lips and the hint of desperation creasing between her eyebrows. "I just really want him to like you."
"No matter what happens, it won't change the way I feel about you."
"And it won't change the way I feel about you, but–"
When Caitlin pauses he can't help but wonder how much her father's opinion of him will weigh into their relationship.
It's a thing because he'd inadvertently made it a thing – Caitlin met his dad more than a year ago in less than ideal circumstances and long before they started dating, but the two of them had an amicable relationship, which only strengthened once they did become a couple. So it wasn't completely unimaginable that he'd one day meet Caitlin's dad. Even though she didn't talk about him often her dad did call several times a week, and Caitlin had dinner with him at least once every week. When he'd finally asked her about the man Caitlin had chosen her words carefully, and never touched on the subject of the two of them meeting.
He had started thinking it had something to do with Ronnie, that maybe her dad still dealt with the loss too, or would never think another man good enough for his daughter once Ronnie decided to disappear on her after miraculously rising from the dead. Maybe her dad was unusually judgmental of the men in her life, or maybe she was embarrassed. He couldn't quite figure it out, and Caitlin's silence only provided more fodder for his ever-growing concerns.
"My dad never liked Ronnie," Caitlin confessed after the same-old argument cooled down. She'd sat small and frail at the kitchen table and he'd wanted to scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom right there and then, lay her down on the bed and kiss every part of her anyone had ever dared to break. "He said we were too different."
He'd sunk into a chair opposite her and reached for one of her hands, the tears shining in her eyes more painful than any of the wounds he healed from so easily – he never healed quite so fast carrying her pain too.
"Maybe he was right."
And somewhere deep down he wanted to say, 'Baby, no, he wasn't right. It wasn't your differences that drove you apart', but how could he disagree with a man Caitlin loved so much, the man that raised her? How could he disagree knowing he and Caitlin were different too, that in so many ways they came at things from opposite ends, or that he was changed by the particle accelerator explosion all the same?
"His opinion matters to you," he manages to tell her now, after Joe helped him gain some perspective – if his dad or Joe hadn't approved of Caitlin it would've left behind a particular kind of pain, like a low-degree burn, not so severe that the wound required a band-aid, but this nagging surface ache serving as a reminder not everything's okay. His dad's disapproval wouldn't mean the end of his relationship, but the thought would fester like an infection. "As it should."
When Caitlin smiles up at him he's compelled to kiss her again, his fingers sliding into her hair to guide their mouths and get lost for a little while, forget about the small worries, the big worries, and all the worries in between those.
He kisses Caitlin's forehead. "If he doesn't like me I will spend the rest of my life trying to get him to like me."
"The rest of your life?" Caitlin bursts out laughing, her face falling to his chest while she giggles freely. He smiles to himself, this silly surface burn hardly enough to dent his ego. It's too soon to say things like 'forever', but he didn't go into this with his eyes closed. He wasn't with Caitlin with the intention of ever leaving her.
"I'm sorry." Caitlin recovers after a few moments, smoothing her hands down the lapels of his jacket. "It's a nice thought."
He knows it's a thought she doesn't spend too much time on, a thought that's still fragile because of Ronnie. How can they think about a forever when their world has crashed and burned so many times already? How can they build something solid when outside forces continually change the rules, meta-humans stop his heart beating or make Caitlin relive her worst nightmares?
Yet he'll repeat it until they both start believing it's attainable.
A frown creases between Caitlin's eyebrows, and soon she starts tugging at his tie.
"What–"
"You're meeting my dad," Caitlin scoffs. "Not the President."
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fin
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