She should have known it would have been a bad idea.
In truth, Caitlin hadn't liked the gang's plan of going out together, all of them, to celebrate their latest team-up/victory. She was all for the drinks, of course – no one could turn down a glass of excellent Cabernet, after all – but being the third wheel (more like the eleventh, actually, given their current state of things) was no fun at all.
It was, actually, quite depressing.
Everyone was at the bar with their significant other, or, at least, even if single, were doing their good jobs at trying to get a girl for the evening: Barry and Iris were, of course, together, the perfect (nauseating) couple of sweethearts, Cisco and Wells (his latest multiversal version, the self-proclaimed Multiverse's greatest, French detective, Sherloque) had picked up a couple of girls and they were chatting them up (Caitlin would have bet money that Cisco's latest conquest looked, like, a lot, like Lisa Snart), Cecile was so drunk she was giggling like a schoolgirl and rubbing her nose against Joe's neck (he was very embarrassed and was blushing, like, a lot). Even fresh-out-of-prison Oliver bloody Queen was there with his bubbly wife, Felicity (because God saved them if they didn't have at least two team-ups a year).
And what about poor little Caitlin Snow, she thought as she nursed her… fourth drink? Fifth? She had lost count by that point. Because she didn't care.
And apparently, neither did they. They were so nauseatingly interested only in each other, they barely noticed her sitting all alone at the bar, pouting annoyed with them and the world and them. Had she already mentioned the fact that she was all alone and annoyed with her friends? Because the… idiots had dragged her to the damn bar for a victory celebration, and yet, they weren't even talking with her. Didn't see she was all alone on her stool, nursing drink after drink while they were too busy doing sweet eyes at their significant others, and sweet-talk poor, innocent, clueless girls into a one-night stand.
Caitlin groaned out loud- so un-lady-like her parents (they were both alive, thank you very much, God, for the information.) would have lectured her, had they been there, and she rolled her eyes. A little too much. She groaned again- this time in pain – and whined a little. She was already getting an headache, which, in her mind, didn't make sense at all. How could she already be hangover (she hated hangovers) if she wasn't even fully drunk yet?
In her foggy mind, Caitlin immediately found a witty, and, she thought, smart and excellent, answer.
She was tipsy… which meant that she wasn't drunk enough yet!
Satisfied with herself (and a little smug), Caitlin lifted her tall glass to her lips, but, when she tried to swallow the once red liquid, she came out empty. She looked around, like she thought that her drink could magically appear from thin air, but realized that the heavenly beverage was nowhere to be found. Pouting, she fell on her chair, shoulders low, and stared some more at the glass (now that she looked at it, she thought it wasn't just a glass, but a mason jar – whoever thought about putting drinks into mason jars? It's freaking amazing! Pure genius! They should get… a Nobel Prize, yes, definitely!), she blew a raspberry and lifted her perfectly manicured petite hand in the air, trying to get the bartender's attention.
The guy – sweet, just another millennial hipster, that's exactly what I need. Where's Sam Malone when you need him, uh? – sighed dramatically, and slowly made his way to her. He threw a rug on his shoulder, and stood before who he considered a very drunk, very cute young woman with his arms crossed, clearly judging her.
"Bartender, keep them coming!" She giggled, indicating her drink, her right index rotating in the air.
"Sweetheart, I think you kind of had enough." He looked at her with a condescending, forced smile – the kind she had always hated. It was the kind of smile people had given her after Ronnie's loss, when they told her to look up, that things would have turned up all right (Everything is gonna be all right? My husband is dead, you jackasses!).
She stilled, ready to bark, attack as she was a rabid dog, and she froze the counter underneath her fist-closed hand. Millennial Hipster bartender took a step back, his rear hitting the glassy, mirror-y surface where cute and costly bottle of fancy drinks and even fancier equipment stood, and he swallowed. Hard.
Caitlin chuckled with dark satisfaction when she saw pearly sweat running down his forehead, his Adam's apple bobbling up and down in his throat. Good, she thought. Just a few weeks back with her powers, and she still had it in her to scare people. Maybe even more so than before, because it was little, delicate Caitlin, with the pearls around her neck, to do the scaring, and not leather-clad, white and blue haired Killer Frost.
"I said," She clenched her teeth, hitting her closed fist against the frozen counter, making the surface crack underneath the pressure. "I want another drink!"
"But, but, but…" Hipster bartender stuttered, swallowing. Again. "I'll… I'll need to… take your keys?" It sounded more like a question than a statement, and he had said so covering his face with his hands, like he was scared that she would turn him too into ice.
Groaning, and in desperate need of a drink, Caitlin threw the key to her beloved Tesla at the bartender, but, instead of falling in his lap, it was intercepted mid-air by someone's hand. Or at least, she thought it wasn't ah hand. Because it did look like an hand in her foggy vision, and yet, she thought there was something remotely strange about it.
"Relax, pal, I'm gonna drive the lady home – you want to get her one more drink, don't be shy! By the way, Caity, what are we having?" Caitlin lifted her eyes, a little bit surprised, and found out that the blurry figure that had intercepted her key was none other than Ralph, aka the twelfth wheel. Right, he was here, too, she thought. She had forgotten all about him – the only other member of the team who wasn't either coupled or lucky with the girls. My male counterpart! From this very universe! With different powers!
Grinning mischievous, the former cop went and sat at her side, his crossed arms parched on the counter. He was dressed, for once, with decent suit and tie – probably from his detective days (before he hired that awful personal stylist), because, frankly, Caitlin couldn't remember a time she hadn't seen Ralph Dibny with something that wasn't an Hawaiian shirt or something with some other hideous fantasy, and now he definitely wasn't wearing an Hawaiian shirt- it was… dark red, the color of rich wine – what was the name, burgundy? – with the dark blue tie slightly loose around the open collar.
Well, if she could said it herself, he didn't look half-bad in it. Like, for real.
"The lady's having Sex on the beach." The bartended groaned, giving her a mason jar filled with red liquid, trying to keep his distance as much as possible. Caitlin noticed with smug and dark satisfaction that he swallowed every time their eyes would meet.
Ah! He is still scared of me! Good! I like it! Killer Frost was so right!
"Nice! Great name for a drink, but not my cup of tea! Not that I like tea. Whiskey. As in, I want one, now. Neat." The hipster bartender went and gave Ralph his drink and, as she drank her poison of choice from the thin red straw, soundly as only someone who wasn't fully out of their mind could, Caitlin found herself looking at Ralph.
Dreamily.
She even sighed, half-moaning, as he closed his lips around the rim of the glass.
She would have pretty much done anything to be the rim of his glass in that moment.
"What?" He asked, quizzically lifting an eyebrow in her direction.
"You know Ralph, you're not so bad. Actually…" She chuckled, her yes falling on his shirt-covered abs. "Quite the opposite. You're… I mean, you are no Oliver Queen, because, hello? No one's like him, like, at all, because the man is a freaking God, and you are definitely nothing like my husband, but, you're… kind of cute, in your way. And when you don't try so hard to be an idiot, you are… half-decent, I guess? Not decent in a moral kind of way, because I think you are decent in a moral kind of way, because yeah, all right, Barry says you planted evidence, but, I don't think you did it for some awful reason or because you wanted to look good. It's just that, let's be honest, Barry's kind of…. What's the saying? Ugh. I don't remember. He… he puts himself on a…. pedrestal…no, pedestral… wait, I got it, pedestal! He puts himself on this pedestal and he looks down on us poor mortals. Well, not everyone, actually, because Oliver and Felicity and freaking Iris are oh so perfect and could do never do anything wrong, like, at all. Especially Oliver. I think someone should tell Iris they probably have a thing going." She loudly whispered, hissing, drunkly, the words, saying them in just one breath.
Like only someone a lot tipsy, borderline drunk would.
"Eh, I guess I should get you drunk more often, Caity. I mean, you've complimented me more in two minutes of drunken ramblings than in two years put together." Without being asked nor asking, Ralph paid for his and her drinks, and, as he stood up, he patted Caitlin on the shoulder. "C'mon, pretty girl, I'm driving you home."
"Mm… Caity… I kind of like it, even if this is how she calls me. Also pretty girl. Just don't call me pretty woman, though. I hate that movie," Giggling, she stood up on trembling and shaky legs, and leaned over him as she tried to take some tentative steps towards the exit. When she failed to, tripping over herself, Ralph sighed, and saw no other option that carrying her out, picking Caitlin up in bridal-style.
At first, she was surprised, and she looked up, searching for his eyes; still, soon instincts took over, and Caitlin found herself snuggling against Ralph's warm, hard chest, lulled by his steady heartbeat, and, like on autopilot, her arms went around his neck.
She sighed, content.
"Are you… sighing?" He asked her, surprised. Frankly, he had expected a little bit more of fight on her side. Caitlin was strong and independent and a fighter, princess material only for her looks.
"Uh, uh." She sighed, again, answering affirmatively. She liked snuggling against Ralph. He was warm and he smelled… good. Old Spice. It was a classic perfume, older maybe than even Joe, and yet, sniffing it, she didn't think old or grandpa.
No. She thought man.
(Which wasn't exactly the first adjective that would usually came to mind when thinking about Ralph Dibny.)
"Ehy Ralph, do you really have a car? And if you do, is it just a piece of garbage? I need to know, pretty please with cherry on top, because I really, really don't like pieces of garbage." She drunkly murmured, her lips warming his neck's skin with her breath - suddenly, Ralph's steady heartbeat wasn't so steady at all.
"Yep. Apparently, when you clean your act up and you start to act and to dress like a decent detective, you start to actually believe that you are good at your job, so much so that even people start believing it… and you get clients! And they even recommend you to their acquaintances!"
"Wow, I can't believe it. You actually know the word acquaintance!" She giggled with a tone of pride (or maybe it was mockery - Ralph couldn't say for sure) in her voice.
"Five minutes ago you couldn't spell the word pedestal, honey- I wouldn't mock my dictionary, if I were you."
"Right. You are the designed driver. Sorry. I will stop it in two, three, one. Okay, I'm done! Bring me home?"
Ralph shook his head, and sighed, a little frustrated. "Eh, the words that every man wants to hear. And only drunk girls say them to me."
He looked down at Caitlin, half-asleep in his arms.
Something that he would have never thought possible until that very evening.
But then again, he was just her driver, after all…
When they got to her apartment building, Caitlin was almost – almost being the right word – sobered up. Her free and high spirit had gone, leaving behind an headache the size of the Chrysler Building, a little nausea and clothes that would stick to her skin and smelled like cheap booze – not the high-class red wine she had been promised.
Ralph bit his lips, resisting saying something, anything at all – Caitlin wasn't in top shape, and he was just glad she hadn't been so drunk she couldn't keep anything on her stomach – his new, third hand car wouldn't have forgiven any of them, otherwise.
"You… Know you don't actually have to, like, babysit me, right?" She groaned as she moved past her door and turned on the lights. She groaned some more when they came to, and she immediately covered her eyes, the light just worsening her headache.
Ralph, hands in his pants pockets, followed suit. He was keeping his eyes a bit low, his cheeks were a little red – and, it didn't matter if Caitlin thought it was because of his one drink – he was blushing for a whole other reason.
"Wow. Nice place." He looked around, quickly, taking in the ensemble. He liked her apartment. It was just like Caitlin, in everything. Modern but with a classic edge, but, mostly, it was practical. Caitlin valued memories more than she did things, her prized possessions were kept in her memory palace, not trinkets who got dusty, the type that people kept around the house - like Cecile or Iris did.
She offered him a glass of water, but as she went to the kitchen, she inadvertently sniffed her shirt again. It really smelled like booze – she guessed that she had spilled some of her sex on the beach on her top, after all, and she grimaced. Ralph noticed it – she had been quite loud, it was hard to miss- and he laughed softly, scratching the back of his neck, something that, she noticed, he did a lot when around her.
"Ok, you know what? Why don't you take a shower and I'll get you ready your tall glass of water, uh? Just, be careful not to slip."
Caitlin opened her mouth as to contradict him, talk him into having the glass of water together and have her guest go away as soon as possible; but then, her not so perfect scent hit her nostrils again, hard, and she was persuaded to follow her guest's suggestion. She nodded, and mumbled a soft thank you at Ralph's address. Blushing a little, she went to her room to retrieve some clothes before taking a quick shower.
Usually, when she had guests, especially if said guests were of the male variety, she would have gone for something a little… girly. She loved silk, laces and ribbons and skirts and heels, but it was late at night, and she was in her home, and it was just Ralph after all. She didn't need to be stick-to-the-rules, brainy Caitlin when around him. She could… let loose a little. Be comfortable in her own skin. So, with that in mind, she opted for a simple, thin and loose pale pink Cashmere sweater, and grey sweatpants. No shoes, no make-up, not even socks – she'd be barefoot and with plain white cotton underwear.
She gave a quick look at her watch – just to make sure she wouldn't leave Ralph all alone for too long, mindful of her recent misadventure – and then, once in the privacy of her shower, she allowed the warm steam and the jet to ease her mind, drive all the bad thoughts away.
In the meantime, Ralph was going through her kitchen: memory was serving him right, and he knew exactly the remedy to Caitlin's unfortunate condition. He opened the fridge, looking for some juice, maybe some spreadable cheese, when his mind started wondering places he didn't like to much – the past, the kind of man he had been in what felt like another life.
And in a way, it had been. Ralph Dibny 1.0, pre Elongated Man, before he went on that bus and DeVoe and his tinkering would change his whole life forever and ever. He was still the same. And yet, so different.
Like he said: a lifetime before.
He shook his head when he heard the shower running, and in that moment, the realization of what he had just suggested to Caitlin hit him, hard, like a brick wall.
Caitlin was under the hot shower spray.
Naked.
Rubbing bubbly, lemon-scented shower gel on her naked body.
(Because of course he knew what she usually smelled like – an heavenly mix of lemon and lavender.)
Groaning, he closed the steely door of the fridge, and like the sane man he was, he did the only reasonable thing to do when you tell your crush to go and take a shower in your presence.
He started to hit the fridge door.
Hard.
Again and again and again.
With his head.
So much so that he didn't even heard the shower stopping, didn't hear Caitlin joining him in the room. He noticed her presence only when she awkwardly cleared her throat to get his attention.
"Are you all right?" She tentatively asked him.
"Yes! Yes! Absolutely! I just.. prepared you something! " He quickly- too quickly – answered her, his back flat against the cold fridge.
Caitlin looked at him suspiciously; she didn't think foul play was involved, but she just found Ralph kind of… odd. Even odder than his usual self. Which, in her opinion, was saying a lot. Her eyes fell on her small table, on a plate, filled with crackers with a cheesy cream and some colored things on top of that, and a huge glass of what looked like fruit juice. "Oh, Ralph, thanks! You didn't have to!"
He just shrugged, like it was nothing, and scratched his ear. "Crackers with a little spreadable cheese and crushed herbs and spices to make them more appealing, and a glass of half juice, half water. It's a tested remedy for this pre-hangover of yours. Well, at least it used to work on me." He cleared his voice. "Anyway, bon apetite and I'll see you when I'll see you!"
As he clasped his hands together, Caitlin noticed how red in the face – and the neck- Ralph actually was. Sighing worried, she took the few steps that were separating them, and, standing on tip-toes, she reached for his forehead with her right hand, her left on her own forehead.
"Maybe you're running a fever? I don't really like your color… just let me check this once…"
"What? No, no, no fever at all. It's just hot… WARM! It's just warm here! You should really talk with your landlord about lowering the temperature! Better for you, better for the environment, better for everyone…."
"Ralph? Stay still!" She commanded him with a stern tone, eyes in the eyes. He knew she meant business, and, swallowing, he nodded his consent. Unfortunately, in doing so, he also lowered his eyes, and he started to notice all kinds of things.
Her petite feet, naked, with nails painted pale pink, just a couple of shades darker then her natural color.
How the sweater seemed to embrace her forms, and the way the neckline seemed to… suggest what it was hiding. His eyes fell on the valley between her breasts, and he became painfully aware of the fact that she wasn't wearing any kind of… of corsetry.
There was a bra-less woman just inches from him. And she was checking his temperature. With her hands. Her warm, soft hands. And it was Caitlin. And she… she had known he was still there when she got dressed, right?
Ralph closed his eyes and sighed out loud, swallowing hard. He closed his hands in thigh fists at his sides, willing himself to leave her place at once. It was wrong, and dangerous, and just painful. She deserved more, she would have never go for someone like him anyway, he had never been so lucky in his life.
"Ralph….?" She whispered his name, as it was a plea, her hands suddenly going to his shirt, fisting the burgundy material in her small hands. Staring at him with something Ralph couldn't exactly pin-point, Caitlin lunged at him, and she kissed him. Her lips were fierce, while he tensed, frozen with shock. Ralph pushed Caitlin away a little, grabbing her for the shoulders, and blinked. And blinked.
Then, he blinked some more.
"Oh my God, Ralph, I don't know what came over me, I'm so sorry, I really don't…" but her explanation, her excuses, were cut short, as Ralph returned the "aggression", his hands pulling her towards him, hers going immediately into his short hair, tugging at it harder than necessary. Yet, Ralph seemed to like it, for he moaned into the kiss, as their mouths battled for dominance. Caitlin tugged at him so hard he almost fell on top of her.
It was like they couldn't get close enough. Rational thoughts abandoned her, nothing existed but their bodies, their lips and their hands at the center of everything.
Looking for air, feeling the overrated need to breath, Caitlin pushed him away slightly, and stared into Ralph's eyes.
She knew that look. She hadn't been on the receiving end of it many times, but she knew it all too well.
He wanted her. He needed her. Just as much as she needed him in that moment – touch and contract and warm skin to remember she wasn't alone after all, and the world wasn't such a dark place when you looked at it.
"Caitlin, why…." But she shook her head, and put her right index on his lips, shushing him. Ralph closed his eyes, as in bliss, and reverently kissed her fingertips, moaning as he was tasting the most exquisite food on the whole planet, his senses filled with just her, nothing else mattered.
Caitlin laughed – a laugh so real, so alive and that made her so radiant and happy that it melt his heart, made him… fall for her even more – and he grabbed him for the tie, guiding him towards her room in the semi-darkness of the apartment.
"Caitlin, I don't think…" He went to say, but she pulled him for the small piece of fabric, making their lips collide once more, this time just in a quick peck. Chuckling, she let it go of him, and, walking backwards to her room, she grabbed the hem of her sweater, and lifted the soft wool over her head, leaving her torso naked to his sight.
"C'mon Ralph… don't tell me that Cisco is right and you are all talk and no action."
Ralph swallowed, chained to the spot, his eyes fixed on her semi- naked form. Pert rosy nipples dotted her breasts, perfectly shaped – natural, not the silicon monsters he had too often admired in seedy XXX rated films. He filled his sight – she filled him – and Ralph couldn't take his eyes away from her. It wasn't her state of undress: he wanted her to know how he saw her – how beautiful she was in his eyes.
He reached for her, rolling the nipples between his fingers, and his mouth went back to her, in a kiss that was the opposite of what she had previously initiated – slow, sweet, filled with promises. Too many of them, maybe.
She moaned, and he parted. "Caitlin…." He whispered her name, a prayer, his voice rough, deep, so different from anything she had ever heard coming out of his mouth. She shivered, under his gaze, at the mere mention of her own name, and liquid desire filled her lower body.
She knew what he meant, what he was saying- with just a word. Her name. Honey on his lips.
We don't have to do anything. I can leave now, and forget any of this happened at all. Are you sure you want this, me? You are not thinking clearly. I don't want to take advantage of you.
But mostly, her name on his lips screamed on top of his lungs I want you.
She closed her eyes, and, cupping his cheek, she kissed him, tenderly, reverently. And, without parting from him, she guided him to her bed.
Her queen-sized bed was incredibly warm and comfortable, with soft pillows and a fluffy mattress, and sheets of the highest quality. Other people would have slept like a rock, but Caitlin just couldn't. She tossed and turned on "her" side of the bed, trying not to wake – and not to notice too much – the man on the other part of the bed.
She tried to relax each and every part of her body, from head to toes. She even imagined the boring lectures of her most boring high school professor, a Mr. Dilbert who was an expert in geology.
Still wide awake.
Still well aware of Ralph's naked form at her side.
There. She had done it. She had had sex with Ralph Dibny. And… and he hadn't been the jackass she had often thought him to be. He had been, well, for lack of a better word, a gentleman. Yes, he hadn't said no to the sex- thanks God, because she had needed it more than she believed – but he had been… sweet wasn't the right word, because Ralph apparently wasn't a vanilla kind of guy, but he had asked her – again and again and again – if she was sure. Told he that he didn't want for her to regret it – or hate him in the morning. And when she had grabbed him for the chin, her nails leaving half-moon marks on his skin, assuring him that yes, she knew what she was doing and that yes, she was sure she wanted to sleep with him, he had… taken care of her.
Multiple times. In many, many heavenly ways. Without asking – or pretending, or even just expecting any kind of… reciprocation. He had positively surprised her, a woman who had always assumed that men lived by the rule of turnabout is fair play.
He had even taken care of protection on his own accord, which, in her experience, was something men barely thought of.
"You are keeping me awake with your whole thinking thing, Caity." She turned her head to the side, hogging the sheets, when she heard him calling her with the nickname. People didn't usually went and called her Caity. Only Ralph did. And only sometimes, when he thought she wasn't listening, or when he assumed she wouldn't be remembering any of it – like last night, at the bar. "Hey, Gorgeous."
"Hi, Ralph." She whispered, swallowing.
Silence fell between them, and then, leaning on his elbow, Ralph turned, and smiled at her. "It's ok, Caitlin, I understand. It was just… a thoughtless, drunken moment of…."
"Stupidity?" She meekly finished for him, and he nodded. His smile was gone, though – replaced by something that looked awfully a lot like a grimace.
Her heart shattered in pain for him – she didn't think she could still feel anything at all. Not after Ronnie, not after her mother's betrayal. And yet, here she was, feeling at least shame and guilt, and something else she couldn't exactly pinpoint.
Ralph nodded, looking serious. Not himself.
"Look, Caitlin, you were a little drunk, I was a little inebriated myself, you were upset, I was there, and it happened. We are adults, and we are friends, and we can deal with it in an adult kind of way. It's… sex, between friends, but, Caitlin, it doesn't have to mean the world."
She nodded, sighing, hating that he was right – that he was being smart about it. She was a scientist, she was supposed to be rational. And yet, rational thoughts were escaping her.
"We can't… It can't happen again. You understand, right? I mean… we work together and it'd be… awkward if…"
She saw the moment the breath died in his throat and the light vanished from his eyes, and Caitlin hated herself in that moment, for what she was saying, how she was making him feel. Used. Nothing. Just a plaything. Cheap.
"Ralph…" She moaned his name, her soul in pain, like she could feel all the emotions going through his heart. But Ralph was already sitting on her bed, giving Caitlin his back, hastily putting his wrinkled clothes on.
"No, no, that's ok. Nothing new. I understand, and I agree, and I can assure that we will never ever sleep together again. It was just a one night stand and we'll not talk about it ever again."
"Do you want maybe… breakfast? Or… take a shower…"
Ralph stilled, tense. He almost turned to look at her in disbelief, or read Caitlin the riot act. She had just told him she didn't want to sleep with him again. Expressed her desire to turn what had happened between them into just a one night stand. Said, practically, she more or less considered what had transpired between them just the night before either a mistake or a regret (frankly, he didn't know what could be worse).
And yet, here she went, offering breakfast, and showers and chats, and what was next, a stroll in the park? Ice-cream?
She wasn't interested in a boyfriend – not him, at least, nothing like Oliver, nothing like, mostly, Ronnie – and yet she was suggesting activities that looked like… boyfriend/girlfriend material. Not his cup of tea. And not for his own choice.
"Hum, listen, Caitlin…" he scratched the back of his head, still not able to look at her. "Could you just… go back to sleep, or.. leave the bed? Walks of shame are not really my thing, so…"
She nodded, and with a somehow broken heart, she turned on her side, and closed her eyes, firmly - he had just called her with full name, and it hadn't gone unnoticed to the young woman. Just the night before, when he had worshipped at the altar that was her naked body, he had chanted, breathless, again and again and again Caity, Caity, Caity…
They burnt with tears when she heard him closing the door at his back, and she started sobbing, not even sure why she was doing it in the first place. She felt like it had nothing to do with cheating on a man who had been long dead – not when she had felt nothing at all the first time, and any other time, she had laid with Julian, or when she had shyly kissed Jay - Hunter, Zoom, or whatever he called himself- on a park bench.
Right then, right there, Caitlin Snow felt dirty.
And she feared it had all to do with guilt, and nothing to do at all with the sex.
In the next few days, Caitlin looked closely, even a tad too much, at ralph. It wasn't hard, and he also knew it wasn't fully intentional either. It was like, suddenly, after their shared night of intimacy, she had become more aware, more mindful of his presence.
(Besides, it really wasn't her fault. He was around all the time. It was just how STAR Labs worked nowadays. It wasn't like she went looking for him when he wasn't around. Well, maybe just a few times. Maybe.)
When they were with the rest of the team, Ralph was his usual self – a weirdly good detective, full of himself, with his head in the clouds when it came to science and meta-humans, always with a comeback ready. When he was alone with her…. well, he was still himself, mostly, but his jocks seemed a little bit forced, his smile was a little less bright, and when they spoke together, she saw that he would look at her a little longer than necessary or of what was considered polite, he'd take a little longer to answer or voice his opinion.
There, she had gone and done it.
She had broken Ralph Dibny.
Kind of.
Maybe.
Nah, she told herself. It wasn't case. Ralph was the kind of guy who would find the love of his love in a bar in some dark alley, or maybe a strip club – at least twice a week. He didn't do romance, long-term or even just remotely serious.
He was just being awkward because he had seen a good female friend naked. While they were having sex. Excellent sex. And he had heard how she sounded while having said excellent, heavenly sex.
Crap. She was almost –almost – positive she had moaned his name at some point. Even begged him to, uh, fulfill his duty as she pulled at his criminally gorgeous hair.
Yep. No wonder he was awkward around her. It wasn't because of feelings, or whatever. It was just because…. Because she had acted out of character. He just needed to get it – get her, their nigh together – out of his system. He'd go out, to one of those seedy locals he seemed to favor, pick up some clueless bimbo and hook up with her, one night stand style, and he'd forget all about Caitlin and their night together.
She breathed out in relief, smiling to herself.
There. There was no problem at all. None of them was broken neither was in a desperate need of being fixed. Ralph was surely all right. He just needed to get laid again. Add another notch in his bedpost
Just like m. Because we've been clear. It was just sex. Kind of a with benefits thing.
She groaned out loud, barely revisiting the instinct of hitting her head against the keyboard. She was being childish, and silly and just immature.
It was just Ralph, for God's sake. Yes, he was good-looking, in that square-jawed, Oliver Queen kind of hot (and Oliver Queen was hot, Amen and Hallelujah), but he was childish and immature and self-centered and just so not interested in science. He was her complete opposite. She wasn't attracted to him. No way. Impossible.
And he couldn't be attracted to her, either. It was Ralph, any he would chase any female able to breath and with decent breasts. He would forget all about her soon enough – well, about the sex with her, at least.
She groaned again. Barely resisting hitting the keyboard with her head again.
It just wasn't fair. What was wrong with her?
Suddenly, she almost fell from her chair, her heart jumping like crazy in her chest when she heard someone knocking at her open door. Her eyes as wide as saucers, as pale as a ghost, she turned to face the newcomer, in complete silence. She didn't know what she looked like more in that moment, if a kid caught with their hands in the cookie jar, or a dear caught in the headlights.
"Are you all right?" Cisco asked her, speaking slowly as she was either a child, sick or hard of hearing. He looked at her suspiciously, like he knew exactly what was wrong with her, what she had done, and he was just waiting for her to slip and admit it already.
She stood up, awkwardly, smiled with a smile so forced it wouldn't have fooled even a blind man, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Yes, yes! Of course I'm all right! You don't even have to ask! I mean, why wouldn't I be all right? I just, I promise, there's absolutely nothing wrong with me at all!"
"All. Right." Cisco stared at her suspiciously, giving his long-time friend side-glances. "Okay, listen, we've decided to cut the night short, because, hello? Not a lot we can do without our satellite. And, apparently, I've been told that I seem unable to move point 13 of How to forget Gypsy, the woman I thought was the love of my life. So, I said to myself…"he grinned a little, clapping his hands together. "why not head out and have some heavy drinks with my other single pals, Caitlin, Sherloque and Ralph?"
"Oh. Oh." She leaned with her rear against the edge of her desk, seemingly lost in her thoughts, or maybe just surprised.
The guys were going to a bar. To have drinks. Alcohol. And there were going to be girls – free spirited and liberated girls.
Ralph was probably going to pick up some random girl, hook up with her and forget all about his night of passion with poor little lonely Caitlin.
The hell with that. The hell with him and his damn plan!
She wasn't going to allow that, any of that. And it wasn't because she liked Ralph more than a friend was supposed to, because she really didn't. It was just a matter of pride. She wasn't to be replaced by some… bimbo/Barbie Doll. Not her. Not Bio-Engineer, MD Caitlin Snow, the woman who had graduated early in an Ivy League university. With summa cum laude.
Ralph Dibny wanted to move past their shared night of passion? It was fine with her. But then it had to be with someone better than her, smarter. Or at least her equal. And definitely not come random idiot.
She wasn't going to allow it. Nope. Not at all.
"Can you excuse me just a moment, please?" She chuckled in a way that Cisco associated more to Killer Frost than Caitlin Snow, and she left her lab, all calm, headed for the recently renovated lounge, where she was sure to find both Sherloque and Ralph.
Just a two minutes stroll, where she never, ever faltered in her purpose, and she was proved right.
"Well, hello, mademoiselle Snow. What can this humble detective do for you?"
Walking like a tiger, like a stalking predator, she stepped with a determined expression towards Ralph, and looked down – metaphorically speaking, given his considerable height – on him, not bothering indulging Wells.
She stood proud before the young man, and waited for Ralph to acknowledge her.
"Uh, what did I do this time?" Ralph slowly asked, tentatively. A bit scared.
"Oh, it looks like Baby Giraffe is in trouble!" Sherloque murmured to himself, his sentence going unheard by both his companions – even Ralph, who had always something to say about that awful nickname he couldn't seem to get rid of.
"I have a new lead I need to follow immediately on my dad's death certificate." She calmly stated, with a tone that showed that she wouldn't have accepted any form of contradictory. It was her will, and so be it.
"Can't it really wait until tomorrow?" He sighed, pouting a little, unmoved by her determination. "I mean, Cisco really needs help mending his broken heart, and I kind of have to celebrate too. Wells here said something about my good detective skills that sounded a lot like a compliment."
"No, it can't." She simply stated, still staring into Ralph's eyes with determination.
Ralph sighed, resigned, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Okay, fine." He rolled his eyes, then made a gesture with his chin in direction of the latest version of Harrison Wells that had graced Team Flash with his witty presence. "Detective, I'll see you tomorrow. I already have an idea for a new case!"
Without adding anything else, without further ado, they walked away, Caitlin leading the way, Ralph hot on her heels. Soon, though, he noticed that there was something wrong with where they were going – it was a zone of STAR Labs he had never been before, and definitely not on Caitlin's usual route.
"Caitlin, just, out of curiosity, where are we going? Because I'm pretty sure that that's not the way to your lab, or any other room I'm aware of."
She clenched her teeth, and hissed, "Just shout up, Ralph."
When she reached the door to an unused closet, she realized she was feeling non shame, no guilt. She felt strong, determined, liberated even. She grasped the doorknob, and noticed Ralph's eyes narrowing with suspicion. She yanked the door open, checked that no one but them was around, witness to her indiscretion and, taking a big breath, she grabbed the young man for the lapels of his jacket, and dragged him inside the tiny space.
"Why do I feel like this has nothing to do with your dad?" He asked, almost breathless, but even from just the sound of his voice Caitlin could say that he needed, that he wanted to make sure. Almost as he couldn't believe it himself, that she still wanted him. Again.
Some detective you are, Ralph Dibny…
"Ralph, just shout up." She repeated once again, but this time, he could hear the smile on her voice – and he smiled back.
He met her halfway. Ralph's hands tangled in Caitlin's hair, hers clawed at his biceps – seriously, Oliver Queen had nothing on him, at all – and they kissed, almost violently, so much so that Caitlin soon ended up with her back slammed against the wall. At a certain point, one of Ralph's hands – she wasn't even sure which – moved south, mapping her whole form, stopping on her hip so that he could bring her even closer to his heated body.
She moaned, gasped against his lips. Ralph was so much taller than her that, even with heels, she had to tilt her head back almost all the way to meet his kiss. His lips pressed hard against hers, and Caitlin allowed herself the luxury to explore his arms, his shoulders, his strong neck, with her soft hands.
It was like she existed on senses and feelings alone. The intoxicating and rich smell of his cologne, his body heat, the rough texture of his skin, the light aftertaste of eucalyptus on the back of his tongue, his erratic breathing, the crazy beat of his heart she could feel through his clothes, his chocked moans, they filled everything, anything she was.
Breathless, she pulled away in the semi-darkness of the stale room.
"Your place. In one hour." Before Ralph could actually say anything, his mouth still half-open, his eyes closed, she had already slipped out of the closet.
The cold wind bit at her face as she moved across the half-empty SATR Labs parking lot the next morning, and, for once, the sight of the heated building didn't bring Caitlin any kind of comfort.
Like the old song went, Ops, I did it again, she had gone and done it again. She had slept with Ralph Dibny. Again.
Once inside the privacy and security of her office/lab, she slowly, methodically took off her jacket and the soft velvety scarf. She wore her lab coat, stretched her arms over her head, and sat at her desk, turning on her computer, a soft, buzzing sound filling the heavy silence.
Her eyes kept jumping to her wristwatch, and she just waited, for what, even Caitlin wasn't sure.
8:07…
8:11…
8:19…
Minutes ticked by, the beloved and safe scientific formulae on her screen blurring into something meaningless. Groaning with frustration, she hastily and angrily turned the screen off, admitting defeat.
It was so, so wrong. Very, very wrong.
She shouldn't have been thinking about kissing Ralph, She shouldn't have slept with him again. She shouldn't have been thinking about Ralph, period.
And yet… she was, and his presence, his touches, became more appealing with each passing second.
She was pretty sure it was exactly like with drugs.
It was… sick.
She was sick. A junkie who needed the high – only, her chemical imbalances were caused by arousal and not deadly chemicals.
She checked the time again – 8:45 – and slammed the book she had been looking at shout.
It didn't make any sense: she had left Ralph's bed just a few hours before. She had woken up around 3 o'clock, and decided that she just couldn't stay the night. She had run her fingers through her messy, sex hair, got dressed in the dark as she could, and snuck out while Ralph was still snoring soundly. Frankly, it was a miracle he hadn't woken up, given that he had been spooning her in his sleep…
"Crazy idea. Since your mum is a dead end and Cisco isn't vibing anything new, I think we should really take into consideration doing this the old fashioned way. I know we could always ask Joe, but I kind of still have people who owe me in the Force. I say, let's call them and see if maybe…"
Caitlin sighed with relief when she heard his voice at her back, and turned to face the Private Eye. She didn't even give Ralph time to end the sentence, she just cupped his face and kissed him, just like she had done that very night in her apartment.
She parted from him, grinning, filled with pride at the sight of Ralph at loss for words.
"Okay. So… would you rather talk about… this?"
"I think we shouldn't talk at all." She stated, signing her thought with a quick peck on his lips, her tiny fists closed around the lapels of his jacket.
"Right." He nodded, grinned, and what she saw in his eyes – a light that screamed affection, devotion, care, too much, just too much - scared her to hell and back. But then, Ralph's lips were back on her own, and as he lifted her like she weighted nothing at all, making her seat on the edge of her desk to just about devour her, , she forgot all about it.
It was exhilarating and liberating.
That was the effect that Ralph Dibny's heated touches had on her.
It became a sort of routine in the next few weeks - hell, in the next months; they'd often, too often, slip into a darkened, solitary room to have a quickie, or even just an hot and heavy make-out session, when they were both at SATR Labs; dark corners, secluded alleys were their choices when instead they were out for drinks with the others. Not that they'd go out too much any longer. There was always an excuse to stay and work late, check a lead on this or that case, or just go back home because it was just, oh so late…
And the part was, none seemed the wiser.
Sure, she guessed that maybe, just maybe, they suspected she was seeing someone and wasn't ready to talk about it yet, but she didn't have any reason to think they knew that it was Ralph she was sleeping with. Besides, Iris, for God's sake, believed that she was taking the edge off of her stressing life with cardio…
But Caitlin wasn't doing any sport at all. She was just having an healthy and regular sex life, for once in her life. And with a man she kind of trusted, and who made her feel sexy and wild, like she and Killer Frost were truly one and the same.
"Thinking about something nice? Maybe little old me?"
Caitlin shushed him, and shook her head, laughing.
Without any warning, Ralph lifted her up on the pool table in his "man cave", and a second later she was flat on her back, his lips devouring her as he smirked.
Ralph Dibny, you sexy, smug, arrogant bastard…
In the next few weeks, with new pieces of the earth-shattering truth of what had truly transpired between her parents surfacing each and every day, and the discovery that Nora would have joined Barry and Iris' perfect little family sooner rather than later – something that, with Ronnie's premature death and Jay/Hunter's betrayal she had been denied, Ralph soon became the only thing getting her through the days.
Caitlin wasn't appealed at herself, but she felt she needed her fix- at least three or four times a week, just to remain sane.
But, she had to admit it wasn't all peaches and cream. She was starting to get emotional – one would have said even jealous – every time she saw Ralph interacting with another woman. Just minutes before, when she had seen him patting the knee of a young, scared witness to a meta attack, she had even thought about calling Killer Frost in for reinforcement, just to get scared herself by the sudden burst of jealousy, and decided that she either was sick or suffering a severe case of PMS.
She was considering finding some lame excuse and just be gone from the crime scene they were checking out, maybe go back home and have a nice warm cup of herbal tea like she liked, when the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
Tablet in hand, still kneeling on the ground, she slowly turned, and saw, with the corner of her eyes, Cisco holding back Ralph, and Joe doing the same with a man Caitlin was quite sure was a fellow detective they had already met few times on other crime scenes.
Ah, she thought, grimaced. It had to be someone who had worked with Ralph back when he was in the Force – someone had probably not liked too much hearing that Detective Dibny had perjured himself on the stand to frame a murder suspect.
"Dibny's a fucking shame, West! The little shit can live his life however he wants, but he better leaves a good cop like you out of his so-called plans!"
"Sal, seriously, you are my friend, but this is none of your business." Joe tried to calm his co-worker, and obviously friend, down.
"I'm almost half your age, but I've always been a better detective than you, and that's what stings, uh Sally? Knowing that the rookie has always been better than you?" Ralph growled, trying to get closer to his rival and escape Cisco's hold on him.
"Better than me? Better than me? Are you listening, people? He planted evidence, perjured himself on the stand, got Raegan free, and he still thinks that he is a better cop than all of us put together!" Sal laughed, soon joined by other cops present at the scene.
It was the proverbial last straw that broke the camel's back. Throwing the tablet aside, Caitlin stood, and put herself between Sal and Ralph.
"Enough," she hissed between clenched teeth, pissed off as never before. "You have no right to disrespect Ralph, and it certainly isn't your place to decide what Detective west should do and with whom."
She turned around, and put her warm hand on Ralph's right shoulder, delicate, looking into clear eyes that didn't seem to notice she was there to begin with. "C'mon, Ralph, let's go. I'm driving you home."
Still stealing side-glances to Sal, they left.
While they were driving back to his apartment in his car, he reached to the gearshift and put his hand over hers, almost mindlessly, while he looked out of the window into the emptiness. His skin was warm and rough, and Caitlin could feel his pulse throbbing steadily against her skin. She forgot all about her problems, she just wanted to see Ralph smile again and crack some stupid jock no one would understand but him.
She absolutely hated seeing him so hurt, scared that he would lose once again the respect of his friends over a mistake done years and years before in what he had believed been in good faith.
She swallowed, hard.
She cared. Even maybe too much.
Fifteen minutes later, they were walking through Ralph's front door, and like on autopilot, they went to his room. He sat on the bed, and she joined him at his side. He wasn't looking at her, he was lost in his own thoughts, staring into the dark void. She couldn't help but wonder what he may be thinking about, what sort of horrible thoughts could be plaguing his mind, and she shivered.
She wasn't sure she wanted to know, so she didn't ask – and yet, silent tears were ploughing her delicate features.
Then, he finally lifted his eyes, and he seemingly noticed her presence for the first time since they had entered the building.
"Are you all right?" She asked.
"No," he said, his voice hoarse. Ralph reached over and brushed the hair away from her face, his fingers barely skimming over her skin.
She looked at him, into his warm eyes, and she felt like maybe, just maybe, she was seeing the real Ralph Dibny for the first time. She kissed him, really kissed him, a kiss that meant something, too much, and she felt the connection, the spark. His hands stroked gently her face, her cheeks, and with no rush, he laid her down on the bed, still in the dark, and then, he joined Caitlin.
That night, they didn't have sex. They just slept, in each other's arms.
And it terrified the hell out of her.
The next morning, Caitlin woke up feeling safe and content, Ralph's arm draped over her, holding her body against his chest, his soft and steady breath hot on the back of her neck.
Peaceful. Perfect. Safe. Content.
She sighed. She didn't have any right to feel like that. It was Ralph, and he wasn't right for her. What was wrong with her, what was her problem?
And just as she asked herself this question, she saw in her mind's eye the answer, crystal clear, and it left her in total and utter shock.
She didn't just cared about him.
She was in love with Ralph.
It was real. And powerful. And simply… terrifying.
She just couldn't go through the nightmare that had been Ronnie's demise all over again. She just couldn't fall in love with someone who would die on her on their wedding day.
She wasn't going to fall in love, period.
She had to leave. Now.
She crawled out of Ralph's arms and crept around the room, looking for her shoes, trying not to make any nose.
"Caity… why are you leaving?" She stilled when she heard his voice, and turned to face Ralph, and even in the dark, she could see his pain, how much she was hurting him.
She closed her eyes. Breathed in, out, steadying herself. "Ralph, I think we need to talk."
"That… doesn't sound too promising." He sighed, sounding defeated.
With reason.
She just shook herself, did her best to not cry – not in front of him, at least. She owed them that much, at least. "Ralph, you… you are a great guy, and I really appreciate what you've done for me in the last few months. But… I can't keep doing this. I think… we should just stop sleeping together."
"Why?" He asked, not even trying not to sound hurt.
And it killed her.
"It's not working for me any longer, all right? I don't think that… keeping this up could be in our best interests."
"Bullshit." He said between clenched teeth. "You just can't admit that you care about me, Caity…"
She laughed, like he had just said one of his idiocies.
"Don't be an idiot, Ralph. Of course I care about you. You are one of my closest friends. And, I really appreciated what you've done for me lately. But…" She paused, running an hand through her hair. "But I just think we should stop sleeping together. We're… blurring the lines, besides, we should see other people and…."
"That's not what I meant. What I meant is…" Ralph stopped himself before he could say something more. He took a big breath, then, he rubbed his eyes with his right hand, like he had never been as tired as in that moment.
Then, slowly, painfully so, he stood up, and took each and every step that separated them.
"Caity, what I mean is… that you love me. You are in love with me. Just… like I'm love with you. I… I know it's scary, and I understand why you are so scared, but it's okay. I'm scared too. But that's the beauty of it – this way, we can be scared together."
She shook her head, and when she spoke, she sounded tired, old. Defeated. "You don't love me, Ralph."
"Then, why would I tell you that I do, uh?"
"Because," She growled. "Because we both wanted to escape. From loneliness. Failures. Reality. You don't love me, Ralph. Let's be honest – even a dog would do."
He glared at her for long, endless minutes.
"Fine. If this is what you think, you know where the door is. But, Caitlin, if you leave now, don't expect me to wait for you like your lap dog."
"You know what, Ralph? You are right. I know exactly where the door is."
She stormed out of the room, slamming the door shout at her back.
Ralph stood on her mind for the next few days, which wasn't strange at all, considering that he was around all the time. Only, he'd never stay alone with her – and even if they were together, with the rest of Team Flash, He'd barely acknowledge her existence.
It hurt, more than she thought possible. More than she had predicted. And she knew it just didn't make any sense.
She thought about slapping herself. Cold icy showers. Maybe even a chat with Killer Frost – she bet that the Legends' latest acquisition, John Constantine, demonologist, master of the occult arts, supernatural detective, would have been able to pull it off.
She felt like… like she was out of her mind.
And she knew it didn't make any sense. It was just Ralph, and… and she just missed the good sex. It had to be that.
But, as much as she tried, she couldn't push Ralph Dibny out of her mind. The memory of their time together, of every touch, every whispered word, each and every laugh, haunting her, day and night.
She tried to rationalize things. Told herself she couldn't forget about what had transpired between them because he was always on sight. Even the fact that he barely looked at her, let alone spoke with Caitlin, as acknowledging her presence would hurt him just too much, wasn't of any kind of relief, and instead of helping, it just hurt, and every time she would see Ralph, she would be overcome with a myriad of emotions, but mostly… guilt.
She wished to be a speedster just like Barry, so that she could run back in time, to that awful morning, and keep her mouth shut and just climb back in his bed. But it was just make-believe, and even if she knew that she could have tried to make him listen to her, she didn't know if she was strong enough yet to face Ralph, and admit her own faults.
Besides, she knew he didn't have any reason to listen to what she had to say.
And then, after weeks of the cold shoulders treatment, something suddenly changed.
They were in the lab, after a fight with a brand new meta which hadn't gone too well for both Ralph and Barry, as the mystery man was able to apparently nullify his opponents' powers. Ralph was lying on a stretcher, and she was taking his blood to make sure that "Leech" – as Cisco had named their latest nemesis – wouldn't have any lasting effects on her friends. Suddenly, though, she made a movement she wasn't supposed to, and elbowed a bottle of Talcum powder on a nearby tray, getting the white powdery substance all over Ralph's face, making him cough and sneeze. Just like on their first encounter.
And then, it happened.
A kind, honest and just plain beautiful smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
She mumbled something incoherent, spun around and, with reddened cheeks, left the room in a hurry, just to run into Cisco and Iris just as soon as she was out of the door.
"Uh, weren't you supposed to give a full checkup to Barry and Ralph?" Cisco inquired, lifting a quizzical eyebrow.
"Yep. And that's exactly what I'm doing." She lied through her teeth. Badly. Trying to sound as calm as possible. And knowing no one was buying it, if her friends' looks were of any indication.
"Outside the lab. Without any samples. Or a tablet to check the results." Although Iris seemed to be still giving her some kind of benefit of the doubt, it was written all over Cisco's face – and it was blatant from his timbre – that she had been caught red-handed.
Trying to save face, she made a smile that looked awfully a lot like a grimace, nodded, and turned, ready to get back to her lab – only to be met by Ralph's still Talcum-covered faced. He gave her a sly smile and waved, and she lost it. She gasped, grabbed her two friends by the elbows and dragged them to the closest empty room.
Just to face them in silence, and with a guilty expression.
"All right. Caitlin, I know that lately you've gone through some… hardships, but, this is tad too weird even for our usual standards." Cisco grunted after what had felt like an endless silence.
Still, she didn't say a sole word. She kept biting her lips, and torture her cuticles, so much so that Iris felt compelled to just stop her before she would bleed.
"Caitlin, honey… are you all right?"
"Iris is right. You are starting to scare us - and I've been hunted by Breacher, so I kind of know a few things about fear."
"I've been sleeping with Ralph for a few months now." She finally admitted, her voice so low they barely heard her.
"Okay, uh, when you say sleeping…."
"She means they are having sex, Cisco." Iris rolled her caramel eyes, dramatically, huffing. "I mean, you hadn't figured it out yet? Even Oliver got it months ago!"
"You knew?" Caitlin asked, almost breathless, swallowing, getting a kind smile from Iris in answer.
"C'mon, Caitlin, we're friends – besides, what kind of investigative reporter would I be if I didn't get something so obvious? But look, it it's of any consolation, we had to explain thing to Barry, and he really had an hard time believing it."
"But… you all knew. All of you." Caitlin pointed out, her eyes opened in surprise.
"Well, dad and Sherloque are detectives, and Cecile and Felicity are very, very perceptive, so…" Iris shrugged with displeasure.
"Ehy, I didn't know any of it!" Cisco admitted, lifting his hand in the air like a good scholar. "Okay, putting aside the nightmarish image of you and Dibny making out in our lab that will forever haunt me, what's the problem? I mean, of course you could do way better than him, but, in all honesty, nobody's perfect, and besides, there's no accounting for taste."
"Cisco's right. I don't see what's the problem."
"The problem is," She sniffed, whining a little. "The problem is that Ralph's so…he can be such a cretin, and he is irritating, and self-centered, but…" She lowered her shoulders, and a small smile graced her lips, as pink colored her cheeks. "But he makes my heart race, and my head spin. And when I'm with him, I can be myself. He gets me. He really does. And he still wants me. Me… just like I am."
"Uh, I'm so sorry if I'm about to sound like a broken record, but, Caitlin, if he makes you feel good, what's the damn problem?" Cisco lifted an eyebrow, starting to sound slightly irritated.
"Because he is completely wrong for me!"
"Or, is he?" Iris suggested. "I mean, shouldn't you do what just makes you happy, instead of looking for something that would be safer, but just not as real as what you and Ralph share? Besides, Caitlin, I've seen the way he looks at you."
"I don't know…." She sighed, a little unsure, and even scared. Was Iris right? Could she really go back like nothing had happened at all?
Iris shook her head, and smiled, kind. "Caitlin, sweetie, don't fool yourself. I've been noticing how you secretly smiled at Ralph for months. How you would blush whenever he would look at you or he would touch you by accident. Caitlin… you are in love with him, just admit it already."
Caitlin closed her eyes, feeling suddenly free, light, as a huge weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders.
She smiled a little, and with happy tears stinging her eyes, she whispered, "Yes, I do."
"I'm so glad to hear you saying it!" She gasped when she heard his voice, and turned to face him, smiling tentatively at the man who had stolen her heart before she could even realize it was happening to begin with. "Oh, Caity… you have no idea how much I've missed you…"
She shook her head, still unsure she could believe her luck, that it was real, that it was happening. To her. "I thought… You said you couldn't wait for me." She murmured. She was crying, for real, her make-up coming undone and making a mess.
Ralph took the last few steps that were separating them, and he smiled – sweet, honest, happy – never stopping to look into those eyes that had stolen his heart little by little, becoming the sole center of his whole life, his unique purpose.
He took her hands into his, rubbing his rough thumbs over her delicate and soft knuckles, and he shook his head. "I'll always wait for you, Caity, no matter what I say."
She whispered his name, a prayer on her lips, and leaned down, kissing her, quickly. Just a peck, a promise of things to come. Of something to build together.
"Can we do this right this time? I want to go out on dates – nice dates. And I want to tell people we're together. And our mothers. Eventually."
He chuckled, clicking his tongue against the palate. "Yes, absolutely. Whatever you want." He laced their fingers together. "I'd do anything for you."
It was late one night when they were looking into the final piece of the puzzle that was the disappearance of Caitlin's father, and Ralph was rubbing his eyes, sick and tired of getting nowhere, when, suddenly, he noticed a piece of paper on the table, and he examined it.
"Uh, your birth certificate. You think it could be of any help?"
Caitlin shrugged from her seat, at the other side of the table. "You and Wells did tell me to bring everything I could find on my dad…"
"Right." Ralph smiled, meekly, and was handling the document back to his girlfriend, for safekeeping, when a detail caught his attention, a simple word written with what looked like a black doodle . "Your middle name is… Susan?"
Caitlin cleared her throat, and blushed. "Ugh, please, just, don't make me think about that. I hated that name. Back when I was in school, the other kids used to tease me and call me Sue, God only knows why."
Looking at her parents' signature, Caitlin didn't notice Ralph's smile. Nor she knew what was running through his head on repeat.
Sue Dibny… it's just adorable. It's just… so perfect. Even better than Caity Dibny.
Like it was destiny. A story already written.
FIN.