Description : Snow notices Harry walking a weird way after he walked into a table.


AN: As many of you know, I'm on vacations in Turkey right now, so I typed this on my phone. I'm sorry for any mistakes in advance. This is just a small shot since last week I had this dirty idea of Harry asking Snow to check up on his junk after injuring himself by walking into a desk. Of course, I needed to alter this slightly to maintain plausibility. I know this isn't my usual good fic, but I hope you like it. Especially since I'm pretty sure I stayed in the sun for a little bit too long, preoccupied with typing.


Caitlin was watching Harry again. In fact, she had been for quite a while, wondering why he was walking in such a weird way. He must've bumped into some furniture earlier before as the team had been seeing him do silly stuff like this for a few days now. Some of them had trouble stiffling their laughter, but all Cait felt was compassion, her heart heavy every time she lay her eyes on the older man.

There was something she needed to tell him. She'd been working on it for a while, but wasn't sure she could do it until now. She didn't want to give him any false hope, because out of all the people she knew how painful hope was when it was suddenly taken away. Cisco would probably say that Harry wouldn't even remember the next day, but Caitlin wasn't so sure. Besides, she thought that they were already past the laughing point. She couldn't even tell how much it hurt when she saw the lost look in those beautiful blue eyes. They used to shine with such a light whenever she gazed into them and the way they usually looked at her alone was unforgettable. In fact, she had never seen this particular look whenever he fixed his gaze on anyone else but her. She'd used to think that something might eventually happen there, but sadly, there was never any time, provided she even read things right. They had to stop DeVoe, so instead of pursuing any kind of a relationship with her, Harry chose to build the death cap. She hated the device, hence her own personal name for it. And she was right. She was right to hate it and wrong to trust him on it.

And now they were in this mess. He told her straightforwardly that he didn't want her to work on the cure, that there were more important things to deal with. She didn't listen. She couldn't. Not when she was clearly in love with this man and couldn't possibly lose him.

"Is there something you wanted, Snow?" His sudden question snapped her out of her reveriee. This must be one of his good days, then, she thought. If he noticed. If he was present. Good. She needed this for her testing, too.

"Um... I just... I wanted to know... Is there something wrong, Harry?" she voiced her question since she was already made.

"You mean aside from me losing my mind? And DeVoe who still needs to be stopped? No, I don't..." he came to a sudden stop just then as their eyes locked and there it was again. That look. She couldn't be mistaken now. Maybe she should took the chance she was given and prod him some more.

"Are you sure that this is all?" she followed with. "Because I could swear there was more."

"Snow, just say what you really mean. My brain isn't the same these days," he voiced his impatience.

Yeah, like she didn't know that one herself.

She sighed before she explained, "You're walking as though you hurt yourself, Harry and I just happen to be a doctor. It's all." Well, beside the fact that I'm clearly in love with you, she thought.

"Yes... um..." he started and stopped, clearly embarassed.

Another new thing, she thought. He seemed abashed and recently he'd been all about figuring out feelings. Pity he hadn't managed to figure *her* out.

"It's nothing, really," he dismissed her concern. "I walked into a table, but I'm fine," he eventually explained and looked aside.

"Maybe you need some salve for your leg, then?" She wasn't giving up, needing him in her lab, needing to scan his brain so she could perfect her cure.

He nearly sniggered on hearing that. "No, Snow. I didn't exactly hit my *leg*. No help will be needed," he added and she frowned.

What was wrong, then? She was trying hard to figure it out. And then he involuntarily glanced at the nearby desk, probably the one he'd walked into before. Her eyes suddenly widened when she took in the height of said desk and estimated... Her cheeks grew red when her gaze settled directly on his groin.

"If you're done laughing, can we maybe get back to work?" he asked her, placing his hands on his hips, only exposing the spot more.

"I'm not laughing," she told him, raising her eyes to meet his, a wistful, almost sad and heartbroken expression on her face.

They were looking at each other for a while before the eye contact was finally broken by him and he cleared his throat.

"Snow..." he said slowly, meaningfully as though he was trying to tell her something without actually speaking the words and that only drove her crazy.

"Why don't you just say it?" she asked bravely, standing up from behind her desk and making her way to him.

"There's nothing to..." he was already trying to dismiss everything.

"We both know there is, Harry."

Eventually, he did look into her eyes again, but then he only sighed.

Next thing she knew he suddenly lifted his hand as though he was meant to maybe touch her face, but he changed his mind in the last moment and dropped it.

"I can help you, Harry," she insisted, making that one more step towards him, only inches separating their faces now.

"No, you can't," he argued, his voice growing harsh. "No one can! Soon I'm gonna lose *everything*! Even *you*! I will forget you, Snow, and you don't deserve to lose one more man!"

"No! You won't forget! I have a way to help you! That's what I'm trying to tell you!" she exclaimed, cupping his face, forcing him to lock his eyes with hers again.

And he did. And so much was conveyed in his expression that she nearly couldn't take it.

"I told you not to work on this," he said then, his voice hoarse, deep.

"Come on, did you really think I wouldn't?" she asked, her fingers gently moving over his skin. "Harry, in case I haven't made this clear already, you mean too much to me."

He blinked a few times and then he closed his eyes, taking a deep, ragged breath.

Eventually, he opened them again and nodded almost imperceptibly before letting her know, "Me, too. I just didn't say anything because you deserve better. But you also deserve the truth, don't you? And a choice."

"Thank you," was all she could utter, her throat suddenly constricted.

"So, in case I actually have to say it," he continued, his voice deep, meaningful, "I am in love with you, Snow."

Barely had he said that, she was already pressing her lips against his, just needing to kiss him already, to taste him. In fact, she'd waited for this for so long, dreamt of it, that now she couldn't help but drink him in, needing him whole, needing his taste and body. Needing everything, even if he was broken. Because to her he would always be the same man. The man she'd fallen in love with. And she did tell him that right after the kiss was over, as she clung to him with her whole body, putting her arms tightly around his neck. They stayed like this for a while, just holding onto each other, simply being close and that was when she felt *it*. He was hugging her, his face buried in her hair, hands travelling up and down her back and he was getting hard.

She pushed into him, her body working on its own as she just needed more. He groaned in response, his hips meeting her half-way, letting her know how much he needed her, too.

"I see everything works just fine, but if you want to be sure," she suddenly teased, bitting gently on his earlobe, "I can still take a look."

"I would like that, actually," he said nearly breathlessly. "Not here, though. Someone can walk in any moment."

"My lab," she offered immediately, "so we could multitask. First I'll check you over... then I'll scan your brain."

She simply took his hand and pulled him towards said room, making a short stop on the way just to kiss him again, tongues dancing, teeth scraping and boy, was it his good day!

Barely did she secure the lock on her door, she tagged on his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, managing to take just a peak - and was he hot! - before their lips crashed together again and he pushed her towards the bed. It was supposed to be for examining people and MRIs, but that was what she would eventually do, right?

In no time they were both naked, him hard and ready in her hand, no suspicious bruising, she teased him with satisfaction before they were consumed by fire, Harrison hovering over her lying figure, his hands and lips exploring her body as he fitted between her legs and pushed inside, finding himself home.

Because she was his home and he was hers and somehow she made him believe everything would work out just fine. That his intelligence would be restored and DeVoe taken care of and maybe this time for a chance, she could get her happy ending.

And as they body started moving rhytmically, making love, Harry actually believed that even if the cure didn't work, there was no way he could ever forget *her* or his daughter.