A/N: It's fixed! Anyway, I am celebrating with (finally) a chapter. Thank you to the kind words of everyone.

Anyway, I will not bother with small talk, except I'm Head Librarian now! And head of the book club!

I get up off the floor. "Come on, cheesecake."

He groans. "Not another pet name."

"No, literally. We still need to make the cheesecake!"

"Oh," He grins goofily, and I help pull him up.

He speed-reads through the recipe and in less than ten seconds, its in the oven.

"Wow," I breathe.

"You know, if my job at the CCPD doesn't work out, I could always be a baker."

"Yes, among a great deal of other things."

"Damn right." He laughs.

I check my watch. "It's 10:30 already. Wanna have some of the Italian?"

"Okay," is the reply, so I grab the takeout bag, and some plates.

I open each of the boxes and lay them out on the table. "Take what you want," I tell him, to which he argues, "Ladies first."

"No!"

"No!"

"Why are we yelling?"

"I have no idea."

"Okay, we can just go at the same time."

"Cool."

So I get two forks, hand one of the pair to him, and proceed to study the food.

"You know, you're supposed to eat the food. It's not scientific research."

"Okay. It just looks delicious!"

"Don't tell me you've never had Italian?"

"I used to love it as a girl. When I was fourteen, I had some on the night before my first day of high school. It was from a hole-in-the-wall place that one of my friends had recommended. I was in the hospital for a couple weeks."

"Oh. I promise I got this from the best Italian resturant in Central City and beyond."

"You have quite a flair for the dramatic, don't you?"

"Thank you for remarking upon it." He smiles.

"So what is it?" I ask him, looking down at my plate before I could do something that would end our friendship.

"It's a mushroom risotto."

"Sounds exotic."

"It's Italian food!"

"I was joking."

"Oh. I really walked into that one, didn't I?"

"Yes. Yes you did."

I love our banter, I think, as I stab some pasta and sauce, proceeding to shovel it into my mouth.

Then I smiled, and swallowed. "Wow. I need to get to know this place."

"So will we be doing this often?"

"Yes. If this comes with the pleasure of your company, I'd probably pick this over almost every scenario possible."

"So, George Clooney making you his wife?"

"Doesn't come close." I smile, half-hoping I wasn't too obvious.

I eat the rest of my risotto rather fast, and I'm full by the time I finish my plate.

"Thank you so much for the food." I say, recoiling in my chair, both sleepy and needing a shower.

"My pleasure."

"Do you want to finish this?"

"Yes. I'll save the best for tomorrow, though."

"Kay," my smile turns sleepy now, "I'm gonna take a shower."

"You do that."

"I will."

"You shall."

"Are we gonna stand here all night and do this?"

"I have the game-"

"And I'm having a shower. Feel free to yell in the door."

"Mmhmm." Barry mumbles through a bite of spaghetti.

"Did you know pasta was a Chinese invention?"

"No. No way."

"Yes way. So was ice-cream and glass. Marco Polo brought them back from China after he travelled for 24 years."

"Long time to be away from home, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But his dying words were, "I didn't tell half of what I saw," so I don't think the guy was too homesick."

"Touche."

I walk to the bathroom, and undress.

By the time I finish my shower, I realise I don't have clothes.

But I do have a towel, so that's okay.

I open the door, wet hair and all, and drip silently down the hall.

I manage to sneak into my room. Thank god.

The other set of pyjamas I own are a tank and cupcake shorts.

It'll have to do.

I feel really tired, so I collapse into the bed.

I melt into the blankets, and the moment my head hits the pillow, I'm out like a light.

When I wake up, I'm hugging Barry's thigh. And using it as a pillow. My hair is dry, and I look up at the sleeping occupant of my bed.

I have a vague recollection of soft-spoken words and a gentle brush stroking- caressing my hair.

Barry wakes up.

"Hey, Cait." His voice is sleepy and I realise it's Christmas morning.

"What's the time?"

"It's Christmas Eve, and it's- 9:30."

"Okay, we need to dog-proof the place, and get ready for the party. Oh god. Did we take the cheesecake out?" I leap from the bed, half-expecting smoke to flood in under the crack in the doorframe, and flames to start licking at the structure.

"Relax Caitlin. Come back to bed. We'll get up at ten, I promise." He slips under the covers and holds his arms open.

"I don't doubt that." I crawl back into the bed, and let myself succumb to the bliss of being in his arms once again.

"Mgrgrrrh." I open my eyes. Barry is vibrating, like a human alarm clock. I squish his cheek, and he keeps vibrating.

"Where's the snooze button on this thing?"

He laughs, and I kiss his cheek, except he vibrates and I end up kissing his nose.

I open my eyes to find his eyes directly in front of mine.

"Hello." I say meekly, and he lets out a breathy chuckle.

"I dog-proofed the house already."

"Are you sure you're not developing clairvoyance? And thank you."

"Yes. I am developing clairvoyance. I actually made this thing called French toast."

"My stomach appreciates it."

"You have no faith." He bops my nose.

I try distangle myself from him and the sheets, and I fall.

I prop myself up onto my elbows, and squint up at him.

"Where's the clairvoyance? And did you just let me fall?"

"A teller of fortunes may not reveal the secrets of the stars."

"Sounds philosophical." I get up and stretch my arms up, walking into the hall and smoothing my hair down.

On the kitchen bench, two slightly steaming plates sit, with a stack of bread-things, dusted with icing sugar. Barry picks me up from behind and spins me in a circle.

"Kiss the cook." He says.

"You're supposed to have an apron for that, remember?" I dance my way out of his arms and grab cutlery for the both of us.

I hand one set to him and sit on the stool, eager to dig in.

I carefully cut a square from the rest as Barry slides into the seat next to me. I spoon (fork?) it's way into my mouth, and sparks fly.

"It's practically cake!" I proclaim as I keep eating. "I think I'm going to have to chain you in my basement. Except for the fact I don't have one."

He chuckles. "Anyway," he says nervously, and the doorbell rings. I open the door to reveal Felicity and the whole gang in tow, and a squeal bursts from my lips.

A/N: So, how was that? Kiss chapter next, I solemnly swear.