Barry's plan is a success, or at least that's what he calls his poorly veiled attempt at getting the girl to actually look at him. With a safe distance between them, Barry looks at her with investigative and probing eyes, noting the drenched dress she's in and the glare that she throws his way.

It's so cold it could turn him into an icicle in the middle of the street.

One look into Barry's eyes and he recognises her—the Ice Queen of Midwestern University. He knows her as Caitlin Snow—one of the smartest girls around campus and in his Chemistry class, and a close friend of his frat brother and once-crush Iris West. Other than that, he knows she's affiliated with no Greek houses, and that she got the moniker because of her icy demeanour.

One that she's showing him right now.

Barry clears his throat and takes two hesitant steps forward, as Caitlin stands her ground, freezing him to the ground with a cold stare, and he opens his mouth. To make peace, hopefully.

"Hey."

Caitlin turns her eyes into slits and Barry finds the need to explain to her what he's doing in her space, near what appears to be her car. "I wanted to help you out, in case you had car trouble. Or opening the car. Or lost," he stammers, and in a flash, he's an arm away from Caitlin. "I'm Barry Allen, by the way," he smiles in that charming way of his, or so his aunts tell him, and he knows that this has worked on hundreds of girls before, but Caitlin stays frosty, a regal image in her wet dress and slightly messed-up makeup.

Barry's heart skips a beat, and from attraction or terror, he's not sure.

Caitlin's still for about another minute, and Barry thinks he could stand there or maybe break out into song and Caitlin would still have that expression on her face. When she speaks, Barry's made aware that he had been holding his breath, and he exhales it once her cherry-red lips form words. "I know," she says dryly, and Barry raises an eyebrow. Normally, he'd be playing the I-don't-know-you-but-I'd-like-to game with other girls, but Barry somewhat knows that it wouldn't work on Caitlin, that pretending wouldn't cut it, and it shocks him even more that he wants to know her the traditional way—and not by some game he has played.

It makes him still for a while, and they just stare at each other, surveying and sizing each other up.

He clears his throat again, and Barry finds that he has no other choice but to bring up the subject that has brought them into this kind of impasse. "Look, I'm really sorry, for earlier," he scratches his head and bows it shyly, using his smile to somehow charm Caitlin out of her ice-cold demeanor, but her expression stays, and Barry thinks that nothing works on this girl. "I didn't mean to do… that." He finishes, his words as awkward as he feels, and he waits for Caitlin to speak—a scream or a yell thrown his way would be nice—but she doesn't, and even as he sucks at articulating what he wants to say, he knows he has to continue on.

He doesn't know Caitlin enough but he feels as if an apology's about to be pulled out of his lips.

And he obliges.

"I really am sorry. I didn't know you would be there, or that the tray would tip, or that the accident would've happened. But I came out here," he stretches his arms wide, gesturing to the now-quiet street, "to see if you were doing okay."

"I'm doing just dandy," Caitlin says, her words toneless but dripping with ice nonetheless, and Barry finds that he wants this to be over—for Caitlin to forgive him.

To give him a chance to take her wherever she needs to be taken.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Barry says with boyish charm, wrinkling his nose, and it appears to throw Caitlin off, her straight form slumping onto the sides of the Corvette. "Hey, you okay?" Barry takes another step forward until their thighs are touching, and Caitlin brushes his arms away. "I''m great, thanks," the same ice dripping from her words, but Barry's not convinced. He waits until Caitlin stands fully up to her height, and looks at him again. "I'm really sorry," he repeats for the third time, and Caitlin's aura shifts, as he feels it in the air. "It's okay," Caitlin says softly, and it surprises him, his eyes going wide. "I'm truly, very, exasperatedly sorry," Barry says this time with a smile, and Caitlin shakes her head, her hair following the movement. It mesmerises Barry, and he holds on to every word Caitlin says. "It's okay, really. It was an accident," she says, more to convince herself than him, and Barry stares at her, waiting for her to speak. When she doesn't, Barry takes it as a sign for her to leave, and Barry's sure he doesn't want that to happen.

"This your car?" "No, it's Iris'. I don't have her keys," Caitlin says as her upturned palms display an absence of car keys, and Barry takes it to himself to be the gentleman and for his plan to be a complete success.

"Let me take you home, then," Barry says, and as Caitlin begins to open her mouth, he cuts her off. "It's the least I could do, really," and in amusement, he watches Caitlin internally debate until she gives in.

It's a firm, solid nod, but it makes Barry feel like he has the world.

And it scares him.