The first time it happened, Caitlin didn't over-analyze it.
"I need you to hold still," Caitlin said as she bent close to Harrison Wells' chest. She had sprayed a topical anesthetic on his skin and was cleaning a raw patch of flesh on the older man's ribcage. A fairly minor injury by the standards she'd come to expect from her work with the Flash, but painful for him. Once she was satisfied she dried the skin around the injury and took off her gloves. "Just going to tape this up and you'll be done." She glanced up and caught his gaze. His unnervingly blue eyes held her for a moment and she lost her train of thought.
"Thank you, Snow."
Caitlin nodded and placed her fingertips against Wells' chest while she taped on the prepared bandage.
"I'll save you the patronizing speech on being careful," she said, straightening up. "At least for today."
"I appreciate that," he replied, swinging his legs over the side of the exam bed. She handed him a tumbler of amber liquid and he looked grateful. "I appreciate this too." He tossed back the Scotch in one gulp, wincing slightly after swallowing.
"A wise man once told me that doctors should take every opportunity to make their patients feel well." She smiled briefly and placed a hand on his shoulder while she leaned past him to pick up the remains of his shirt.
"You've got cold hands."
"Sorry." Caitlin pulled her hand away, quickly, a little stung by his comment.
"I meant it in a good way," Wells said, quickly. He picked up her hand and placed it back on his shoulder. "It feels good."
"You don't feel feverish," she said, pressing her other hand to his forehead.
"I think I forgot how it feels," he began, setting down his glass, "how it feels to have another person touch me who isn't trying to kill me." He stood up, ran a hand over his hair and picked up his shirt.
"Dr. Wells," Caitlin said, softly. She touched her fingertips to his jaw and he stopped moving. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He stood still until she started to pull away, and then turned his head quickly, pausing with his lips a breath from hers before kissing her softly on the mouth. Caitlin didn't move, and he pinned her with eyes so intensely blue they seemed to burn. Like a light switch, strong hands were in her hair and his lips were on hers again. He kissed her hard this time, and she put her arms around him.
Lean muscles moved under Caitlin's hands and Wells held her tightly, like a lifeline. His kisses plucked at the loneliness and isolation she'd felt since Ronnie's death. She leaned into him and parted her lips, tasting the smoky scotch he'd just drunk.
As suddenly as it started, the kiss ended. Wells broke from Caitlin and set her back from him. She had to catch her breath and raised her fingers to her lips.
"I'm sorry," he said, tightly.
"Don't be," she said.
"I got a little carried away."
"Me too."
He grabbed his shirt and put it on, wincing when he stretched the damaged skin. He picked up his coat from the bed and started to push past her.
"I'm going."
"Wait," she said, reaching out but he pushed her hand away.
"I'm not looking for pity, Snow."
"It's not pity," she snapped. He paused and looked back at her. "You're not the only one who's lost someone." His shoulders slumped and he nodded, silently. "Barry is a beacon of everything that's good in a person, and he draws people into his orbit, naturally." She placed a palm on her chest. "I'm not like that, I can't-" she broke off, looking at the ceiling and searching for words. "I can't reach out to people for what I need, not even the people closest to me." She looked him in the eye again. "You managed to say what I can't. And I felt a little less alone, for a moment."
"I'm sorry." Harrison walked away and Caitlin told herself it was a brief lapse in sanity.
The second time it happened, it had been a bad day. Caitlin was certain that waking up that morning had been her first mistake. She spilled her coffee on the way to the empty lab, and she lost a button on her favorite coat. The centrifuge jammed and as a result, several test formulas would need to be re-synthesized. Fixing the centrifuge on her own took several hours and Caitlin was feeling pretty filthy. Her clothes, hands and arms were sticky and dark with grease as well as coffee, so she opted for a shower before continuing.
Star Labs had locker rooms, showers, laundry and even rooms with beds; when it was filled with people, it had been used regularly. Most of the team was in Star City so she was alone. Caitlin reminded herself to bring in some spare clothes and helped herself to one of Barry's button-up shirts. He kept several sets of clothes here since he tended to wear them out. After her shower, Caitlin dried off and put on Barry's shirt while she waited for her clothes to dry. He was tall, and the shirt came to her knees, longer that some of her dresses, but she still felt self-conscious. It was a plain, white shirt and she didn't like the translucent quality all men's' shirts seemed to take on when worn by women.
Caitlin remembered having the discussion with Ronnie during one of their weekends away. He'd loved it when she wore his shirts and the memory made her smile and then caused a bittersweet ache in her chest. She kicked off her heels under the desk, the only place she felt comfortable removing her shoes, and analyzed some of Barry's recent tests. She glanced at the photo she kept on her desk of her wedding day and the ache in her chest grew sharper. She cleared her throat to try and dislodge the lump that had formed there, and pushed her chair back. She picked up her water glass, turned away from the desk and promptly tripped on one of her own shoes.
With a small yelp, Caitlin fell on the floor and the glass smashed into tiny, glittering pieces. It was the final straw and she began to cry.
"Snow?" She looked up as Harrison Wells walked in. "Are you alright?" He looked at her bare legs and the broken mug. "Hang on," he said, "you'll cut yourself."
"Um, I'm okay," she said, rising carefully to her feet. She wiped her eyes on Barry's sleeve. She was grateful that her mascara had washed off in the shower so it wouldn't be running down her face.
"Just wait," he said. He just wore a t-shirt and jeans so she guessed he'd probably been in the breach room.
"No, really I'm-Ow!" She cursed under her breath and held her foot up, gingerly.
"I told you to wait," Wells, said with a scowl. He swept the glass out of her path and helped her limp to the medical bay where he sat her down and lifted her heel. "Where are your tweezers?" he asked.
Caitlin told him and swung her leg up onto the exam bed, the same one on which she'd bandaged him up. He returned and the tweezers and some gauze, placed her foot in his lap and gently picked at the tiny shards embedded in her foot.
"I was taking advantage of the quiet," she said. "Tried to get some things done without Cisco or Barry around."
"Oh?" he asked, keeping his eyes on her foot.
"Barry's usually doing something dangerous and Cisco tends to get a dozen clever ideas every day, and needs to be talked down from trying them all."
"You take care of everyone here," he said, turning her foot back and forth to try and see if all of the glass was gone. "Who takes care of you?" He glanced at her briefly and his eyes strayed to her legs. "And why are you naked?"
"I had to fix the centrifuge," she said, pushing the bottom of the shirt down her legs. "It got messy so my clothes are in the wash." She felt herself blushing. "And I'm not naked."
"What about my other question?" He squeezed ointment out of a tube and onto a square of sterile gauze and placed it against the punctures in the ball of her foot. He kept his hand on her ankle but looked her in the eye. "Who takes care of the caregiver?"
"I suppose I do that too."
"Do you?" he asked. "When was the last time someone did something to take care of you?"
"Don't make me out to be a martyr. I like caring for people."
"Don't you need that sometimes?" His gaze was intense, but also distant. "Something made you cry, Caitlin. I doubt it was the glass."
"Long day, I suppose." She felt heat rising to her face. "I'm usually busier and don't have time to feel lonely." She took her foot off his lap and held Barry's shirt in place while she stood up. Wells seemed to snap out of his brood and went to the door.
"Let me get the glass up." He swept the area clean and picked up her shoes. He walked over and then paused, looking surprise and stared.
"What?" Caitlin looked behind her.
"Backlighting." Her shoes dropped from his hands.
"What?" Caitlin was confused for a moment and then looked at the very bright lamp by the table that shined on her and out into the less-illuminated lab. She hunched her shoulders forward and crossed her arms. "Could you see anything?"
"Do you want the truth?"
"Probably not."
Wells walked to where Caitlin stood but didn't touch her. He lowered his head and she tilted hers up. He hovered with his lips above hers for several heartbeats.
"You'll let me take care of you." He didn't ask, he just said it. She gave a fractional nod of compliance.
Caitlin was the one to close the distance. She moved up to press their lips together, and Wells' fingers were in her hair again. He was a little slower this time, and more careful. He let his hands roam down her back, over her buttocks, and underneath the shirt she wore. He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his hips, gripping him tightly. He set her down on the end of the exam bed. It was high enough that he didn't have to bend down to kiss her.
Caitlin tugged Wells' t-shirt out of his pants and he obediently raised his arms to let her remove it. She pressed kisses to his neck and chest while fumbling with his belt. His hands stopped hers and she looked up at him.
"What?"
"Just let me take care of you." He touched her breasts gently through the fabric of the shirt but made no move to unbutton it, and he kissed her while his skilled and clever fingers moved between her thighs. Her breath caught, but he was the one to let out a moan. "So soft," he said in a harsh whisper when his fingers probed inside. He had his eyes closed and his expression was intense. He pushed her knees farther apart and Caitlin thought he had changed his mind about his own pleasure, but he pressed her onto her back while pulling her legs towards him.
Caitlin saw Wells mostly in shadow; the sole illumination in the room was the exam light, which was pointed away from them. She could feel his gaze but couldn't see his eyes. The mask of darkness allowed her to lie back and leave herself open to him when he pushed the shirt up to her waist. He hooked her knees over his shoulders and his breathing became heavy. She felt the goose bumps rise on his arms when he leaned down to press gentle kisses on the insides of her thighs.
Caitlin's fingers gripped the edge of the thin mattress. She felt Harrison slide one long finger inside of her. He stroked her gently and patiently while he kissed and nuzzled her. His tongue slid through her slick, sensitive folds and circled her clitoris. He licked her gently, at first, setting a slow rhythm with his finger and tongue. He paid attention to the noises she made and when her muscles tensed up.
Caitlin released the edge of the bed and raised her arms above her head. She knotted her fists in the sheet and bit her lip to keep in the sounds that wanted to come out. Wells stroked with his thumb and raised his head.
"Nobody's here," he said. "Make all the noise you want."
"Don't stop," Caitlin whispered and he complied. She glanced down and saw his strong hands on her hips, and his dark, curly hair falling down to touch her belly. Tears formed in her eyes and began to slide down her cheeks before she noticed them. He began to suck on her most sensitive part and she arched her back with a moan. Her emotions welled up in a jumble; sadness, loneliness, fear, and despair and her tears kept falling. She gasped and bucked, letting out a small moan. The sound seemed to spur him on and he added a second finger while sucking her a little harder.
Caitlin couldn't contain the small cries that came out as her climax was building; she clutched frantically for Harrison's hand and he twined his fingers with hers, anchoring her while she rode out the waves of pleasure that washed over her. She came with a sob, tightening her legs around him. When her breathing returned to normal, she sat up. Wells was standing by the end of the bed and he gave her a quick smile and a wink.
"Goodnight, Snow," he said, walking away.
"I don't want to leave you…like this." He had been clearly aroused by what he was doing, and she felt obligated to return the affection.
"Don't make me a martyr, Snow. I enjoyed myself immensely."
The third time it happened, Harrison Wells couldn't say no. Battered and bruised, he limped to his room. He had been thrown across a room by a giant gorilla, but he'd rallied and subdued him. He'd also saved Caitlin. After she'd looked him over, she had sent him to rest, and he'd listened. He'd changed into his pajamas like a good patient and was lying back on his bunk when he heard a hesitant knock at the door.
"Come in." The door opened and Caitlin walked in, holding up a tumbler of Scotch. He sat up, eyeing the glass with relief. "Just what the doctor ordered. Thank you, Snow."
"I'm going to check your pupils one more time before I give you anything for pain."
"You think I might be concussed?"
"I saw you hit that wall, I'd be surprised if you weren't." She waited for him to move his legs to the side and sat next to him. "Just look straight ahead," she said, shining a penlight into his eyes. She flicked it to the side and back a few times, before deciding his pupils were reacting equally well to light.
"Do I get my medicine?" Wells humored her, he could obviously get his own drink, but it was nice that she'd thought of him. She handed him the glass and he took a sip, savoring the burn for a moment before tossing the rest of it back in one more mouthful. His back was sore and she helped him lie back down. "Is that the only reason you came here?" he asked, toying with the empty glass.
"No," she replied and leaned down, kissing him gently. "I don't want to hurt you," she said, placing her palm on his chest.
"You won't," Wells replied. He was ashamed at how quickly he responded to her. He was growing accustomed to her touch, craving it now while she was so close. She kissed him again, long and deep, and then she slid her hand down his chest to the waistband of his pajama pants. He was already aroused and she took the initiative.
Caitlin's gentle hands urged him fully erect before she slid her cool fingers under the waistband of his pajamas.
"You didn't strike me as the 'Commando' type," she said. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were hot.
"They were in the bottom drawer," Wells replied, "I just couldn't bend down that far." They laughed together and he closed his eyes. He'd been so long without a partner, that he was grateful to the gorilla for leaving him in enough pain to keep him from climaxing too quickly.
Caitlin closed her moist lips around him and he nearly cried. He arched up and grunted when his abused muscled objected.
"Sorry," she said, apologetically. "Are you okay?"
"God, don't stop!" he gasped and she took him into her mouth again. She moved up and down, smoothly and ran her tongue around the swollen head. She kept a steady pace for several minutes, but when she started to suck, he groped for her arm.
"Do you want me to stop?" she asked.
"No, I'm almost there," he said with a grunt. He climaxed almost silently with his hands fisted at his sides. He heard Caitlin stand up and walk to the door and he started to stand.
"Stay there," she said, quickly. "This has to be the last time." The door shut a moment later and Wells adjusted his pajamas and fought the disappointment that stung him.