Thanks to tygermine and gingercanary for betareading on short notice. Extra thanks to gingercanary for helping me trim this fic down to a more reasonable size and for suggesting a good title.
Warnings: Quarantine themes, light angst, pining, family issues (with Caitlin and Carla).
Love isn't a science
"You should talk to her."
Caitlin resists the urge to glare at her mother. They'd been working together for hours, trying out different solutions, and analyzing the samples. Hoping one of them might have a breakthrough that would end their current situation.
Epidemiology wasn't exactly either of their specialties but neither of them liked sitting it out in quarantine. Busy was better than bored. Working with her mother hadn't been what she'd had in mind when she'd scheduled some time together. It was only meant to be lunch but the city-wide lockdown had come swiftly after the first confirmed cases of the virus in Central City.
"Who?" Caitlin asks, feigning ignorance. Of all the conversations her mother could choose to have with her, now, she wishes it had been about anything other than what she's attempting to meddle in.
"I don't know, maybe the only other woman here," Carla snaps back. Definitely exasperated, but not dropping it.
"Mother, I-"
"Why do you call me that?"
Caitlin does look up then, surprised at the frown, rather than scowl, on her mother's face. She tends to slip into calling her that when she's annoyed. It's a little petty and she shouldn't but... Caitlin takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the reply. "You want the truth? Sometimes 'mom' seems too personal for you."
Despite the tentative attempts to rebuild their family – without Thomas Snow yet again - their relationship is strained.
"I thought we were past that," is all Carla says. Something about how her eyes drop back down to the sample in front of her makes her seem defeated.
That makes Caitlin feel bad, because actually nothing her mom had said had been combative. Her interest in Caitlin's love life was well-meant, though unwelcome. Probably the only reason it rankled Caitlin was how unprepared she was for that discussion.
She wishes she could blame them being cooped up in S.T.A.R. Labs for why Carla brings it up, why she has noticed how her daughter is around one Iris West. The truth is, she's barely interacted with Iris around her mom in the last few days. This is coming from careful observation of the past, not the present. Her mom knows her better than she expected and has been paying more attention than she'd like – it's gonna be hard getting used to this new normal for them.
"I just- I need more time."
"For her or for me?" Carla asks as she sets aside another sample into the rejected solutions tray. Her actions are precise, measured and her words clipped.
Caitlin pauses, glancing up to spy a slight scowl on her mom's face, her displeasure not entirely suppressed. She's starting to put up her walls and Caitlin knows that because she does the same thing when she doesn't have someone to pull her out of the habit. Part of why she finds it hard to connect with her mom is recognizing in her all the things she dislikes in herself. They're too alike.
She tries to get her mind back on track but her mom's question rings around in her head distractingly. She can admit she likes Iris in her mind just fine. She knows she's had a thing for Iris ever since they'd teamed up on investigating 'Jay'. The fun and eventually easy-going conversation of the late-night stakeouts with Iris had outshined the chemistry she'd thought she'd had with Jay. Even if he'd turned out to be who he said he was, they'd have been doomed. More disturbingly, he hadn't been the wholesome scientist she thought she'd fallen for. Caitlin had been left very confused on two counts, given her inkling of the feelings flourishing for Iris after all that.
Knowing she likes Iris and saying it out loud are two very different things though. She's not sure she can speak of it, not yet. Which was one gigantic hurdle to doing anything about it because Iris is apparently oblivious. It's an apt metaphor too, seeing as she's never been good at sports. Unlike Iris, who she knows from experience is good at bowling, and softball, and boxing, and who knows what else.
Iris had even offered her some lessons in self-defense in their rarely-used gym. There'd been literal dusting off of equipment for that. Just one lesson, one was more than enough. Almost more than she could take; Iris's hands ontop of Caitlin's directing her motions, trying over and over to get her muscles to learn the move. That single session she gave into had her heart hammering in her chest for more than one reason.
Being around Iris was exhilarating. Also scary. Biologically, was there much difference when it came down to it? Caitlin got so wound up in her presence. Afraid of misspeaking, stumbling into saying something that would push Iris away if she could tell what was behind the awkwardness. Except, Iris wasn't likely to hold it against her. Iris had dealt fairly well with Barry having feelings for her in the past and they were still best friends.
"Both," Caitlin finally answers the question.
"Don't leave it too long," is the assured advice she gets in return. A warning she doesn't need because she knows her failings intimately. The reply only serves to set Caitlin on edge again.
"Or what? Are you going to share your romantic insight with me? I haven't seen you going on any dates-" Realizing too late how cutting her reply came out, Caitlin winces.
She's more than a bit regretful seeing her mom avoiding looking at either her or the sample in front of her. Carla takes off her gloves and roots about in her bag for her phone. A distraction from work, must be serious, her inner critic supplies and she feels even worse. She always sounds so much more like Frost when it comes to her mom. It's hard to get out of automatically judging her because she's used to years of feeling like she got the same as a teenager.
The atmosphere in the lab is tense as Caitlin watches her mom busy herself with her phone, then her paperwork, before she lets out a breathy sigh and gets back to her samples. The conversation seems over, so she's not expecting it when a few minutes later her mom speaks up again, quieter this time.
"I know it may be hard to believe given how little you saw of it, but your father and I, we were in love once. Very much so. That's why..."
The unfinished sentence sits between them, ripe for interpretation. The natural conclusion, what she might have assumed before, was, 'that's why I was so cold' or 'that's why I couldn't open up to you and be the mother you deserved'. But if Caitlin makes the effort to seek a more forgiving assumption, one with the compassion she'd find for anyone else, it could end very differently. Explained by 'that's why I retreated so far into myself, into my work'. Maybe she shouldn't blame her mom when she'd retreated into herself too when she grieved, when she was in too much pain, albeit an entirely other way. In Frost.
Her mom surprises her for a second time in as many minutes by getting up and walking around to her, trying in vain to take her hand, to pull her up she presumes. Confused as she is, she bats away the hand and offers the only defense she feels she has to whatever her mom is aiming to do.
"We have work to do."
"It can wait," Carla says authoritatively and that she understands because Carla Tannhauser had never had any problem with being the stern parent when required.
The thing is, it's not like her to shirk work. Caitlin's workaholic tendencies are modeled after both her parents. This work, it really can't wait, not when there's a crisis. The pandemic feels somewhat distant with them down in the depths of S.T.A.R. Labs but it's real, made tangible for her with the science in front of her.
At her hesitance she receives a sharp look from her mom, possibly one she deserves too due to her previous pointed comments.
"These don't have to be done immediately, not if we put them back in the refrigerator. Besides, we need to wait for the gene sequencer to finish before we start further analysis and plan the next phase. You can afford to take a break." Where she says 'can' is imbued with a firmness that implies it really means 'should'.
She doesn't agree it's right to stop there, getting to the end of their current list would be a more natural stopping point, but Caitlin is tired and has no fight left. So perhaps a break isn't the worst plan, if it's just for a while. Anything more than a while risks giving her too much time to think. Plus, she decides as they do their decontamination protocol, a break from her mom is needed as much as a break from work. She needs some breathing space, some time where she doesn't feel like she's under the microscope too.
Being around her mom felt like work of its own sort, but the actual work they were doing she was grateful for. It was a perfect distraction. Usually, she battled with distractions from work but for certain things work became the distraction instead; from the looks and the feelings that pulled her in the one direction she shouldn't go. To Iris. It was significantly harder to avoid Iris when they were in such close quarters. The labs, however, Iris and the others steered clear of because the idea of virus samples freaked them out. Of course, her mom was leading them further and further away from the labs.
Eventually, her mom splits off from her to take a shower in the ladies locker-room and Caitlin continues on to The Cortex, intending to see if her candy stash has been looted by Cisco. She's hoping at least the Bottle Caps survived because he tends to find them too chalky.
As she enters The Cortex, Cisco is distracted on comms. From what little she overhears as she sneaks through to her office, they're still low-level arguing over how fast Barry would need to run to effectively render the virus no risk and make the tedious decontamination showers unnecessary.
Every medical she does, Barry's skin is pink from scrubbing – the irritation goes away quickly but it's a sore point for their hero. These days Barry would normally project his Speedforce aura enough to avoid lighting his clothes on fire. His Flash suits can take more wear from that source but they're not indestructible either, nor inherently anti-viral. Though Cisco is working on designs in that vein already. Caitlin's already given her medical input on the argument but there were other aspects to factor into it. Namely physics, as well as the material science of the suit to consider.
Long story short was, Cisco and Barry couldn't agree on what would be a safe speed to obliterate the virus without damaging his suits too much. Caitlin was pretty sure Cisco was at least as concerned about Barry catching the virus through foolhardiness as he was about speeding through his stash of meticulously made suits.
In her office, she flops down into her comfy office chair taking a minute to rest before she swivels round to face her desk. She opens up her middle draw, removing the pad of requisitions forms from their medical supplier to pull out the fake drawer bottom. As she suspected, her stash is considerably depleted but there's Bottle Caps left, a few suckers in flavors Cisco clearly doesn't favor and an IOU from him for 'hugs + those chocolate brownies Frost said she'd kill for'.
Caitlin sits back in her chair, popping Bottle Caps one by one, trying to savor them but ends up crunching them. They disappear quickly but she enjoys them at any rate and then figures it's about time to have some more nutritious food.
When she gets to the canteen she comes face to face with Iris, having completely forgotten Iris was in charge of tonight's dinner. The burning smell in the hallway should have clued her in and she has a stray curious thought about why the fire alarm wasn't set off.
"You have perfect timing." Iris greets her with an infectious grin and proudly serves her up a plate.
"Don't worry," she says, handing Caitlin a plate where at least the fries look the normal amount of crispy. "I did honey barbecue-style chicken this time, it's pretty much meant to be burnt anyway.
"And," she says in a faux conspiratorial whisper, somehow with more energy, "if you put enough sauce on it, you can't even tell I made it."
Caitlin can't help but grin back at the rare self-deprecating admission from Iris. It's hardly a secret she doesn't excel in the culinary arts, but Barry and Joe tend to gloss it over, congratulate her anyway and eat up. Caitlin's usual strategy is to smile and go 'mmm' through a mouthful that hides her lack of enthusiasm, but Iris is no fool, she knows cooking isn't her strong suit. Caitlin has to admit the plan with this food is an improvement on her previous attempts, Iris is learning how to work around her lack of skill.
"Want to join me?" Iris asks brightly and Caitlin isn't sure she can say no to that.
Caitlin opens her mouth but stalls on what reason she could give that wouldn't seem rude. Although she doesn't know whether she could say anything she comes up with when she doesn't want to say no.
She's saved from replying by Cisco barging in. He's still on comms, hands-free. There's a series of looks exchanged from Cisco to Iris that Caitlin isn't entirely certain of the meaning of, which sends the smallest twinge of jealousy through her.
Iris wordlessly prepares a plate as Cisco fishes out a can of soda and a jello from the refrigerator, slinging them onto a tray and coming back just in time to receive the finished plate. Iris mouths something and Cisco gives another dramatic look that isn't quite what it would be without his hands for emphasis. He's out of there fast, leaving Iris staring after him, her brow subtly furrowed.
Caitlin feels a little bad then for avoiding her and motions to the chef's table, not wanting to break the hush fallen over the room. They sit down, perpendicular, making Caitlin worried about accidentally playing footsie without meaning to. She carefully draws her feet back under the chair. Iris sets the bottled sauce in front of her, having poured a hefty portion onto her own plate.
As the city winds down, except for the crime, there's not so much to do in the lull before the next news cycle. But still, she appreciates Iris taking time out to make the late dinner.
"Thanks," Caitlin blurts out rather inadequately, having meant to be more eloquent.
"Thanks? For this? I wouldn't thank me until you've tasted it. Probably not after either," she adds with a light laugh and a tilt of her head. She raises a fork up as if to say here goes nothing and takes a bite. Caitlin follows suit and other than chewy it's not too bad. At least Iris is looking amused more than anything else, having bounced back from the odd mood Cisco's interruption caused.
She keeps forgetting Iris hasn't always got so much to do during all this. There's a whole bunch of organization that happens in a flurry every so often, but it's not the same as being on the outside like Barry is, or slaving away in the lab, praying diligent work will provide a solution. Cisco has his experiments but is mostly taking back control by taking point on comms. Iris does some of that too, when Cisco will relinquish it, but Caitlin wonders if Iris wishes she were out there, helping in person. Like she would be if she had become a cop. Caitlin knows Iris would have been an amazing cop. Just like she's an amazing reporter, because she's a force to be reckoned with, someone you want on your side.
Joe's only saved from the danger because he has to coordinate everyone else. He's holed up in his office at CCPD, giving orders and wading through metaphorical red tape. At least Joe had Cecile and Ralph helping out, all three sped back here by Barry for their downtime. She can see that Joe misses it too – being out there, making a difference on the streets. Every time he's here he has these moments when his mind is elsewhere, no doubt worried for his people out there risking their lives.
"It's nice," Iris says, picking at her food contemplatively. "To be able to take care of you guys. Besides, there's only so much writing I can do. When the words start to blur together and the word 'the' sounds weird to you, it's time to do something else."
"I know no one's talking about it, but it's important, what you do."
If she wasn't holding cutlery, Caitlin knows she'd be tempted to reach out to Iris. It's just as well she can't.
"Even the puff pieces?" Iris asks wryly. Those have tested her patience even more in the last few days.
"Oh, especially the puff pieces, good for morale. How would we get through a tough time like this without hearing about Sheppy the dog who thinks he's a cat?"
Iris giggles and soon Caitlin joins in too. Once they start it's hard to stop. It's not so much about how funny it is as it is about the release of everything they've held in, tension melting away with each bout of laughter. Caitlin tries to bring her fork up to her mouth several times but another giggling fit erupts and sets off Iris again too. It's a good while before they can speak, let alone continue eating.
"Seriously...though," she says, a little out of breath. "Iris, your words are always good words. You write from the heart. You've got that innate sense of what's right, not to mention those West family pearls of wisdom. People respond to that, you give them hope."
"Don't let my dad hear you say that, I won't hear the end of it." It's meant light-heartedly but Caitlin picks up on some sadness there too.
Even when Joe is here, he spends a good chunk of his time on the phone with the precinct and far too long fighting with a tablet he doesn't completely understand. Cisco probably talks to Joe more than Iris right now, with him playing tech support more than he'd like.
Thinking about it, Cisco spends more time talking to Barry than anyone else and Barry only comes back to inhale food and power nap before going out again. No one has been taking much of a break, which means no one has been interacting much with Iris. It occurs to her, now that she's put it all together, that the most talking Iris is doing was probably to complete strangers.
"How's the tipline going?"
"Pretty much how you'd expect. Crank calls and just as many well-intentioned people with no common sense. Concerned citizens who turn out to be conspiracy theorist nuts more than half the time. There's a lot to sift through to get anything worth my time."
"That's your talent, right? You zone in on the important details, putting the pieces together, seeing the bigger picture. I know science isn't your thing but you'd have made one hell of a researcher if you'd been into it. You're basically a researcher and a PI all rolled into one; you never do anything by halves. It's something I...I admire, about you."
Iris puts her fork down, and Caitlin has the sense of it being Important. Because Iris is focused solely on her and it's like she's really seeing her, seeing through the guarded persona she tries to put up to hide her emotions. It's a definite moment. Something to talk about if she had anyone to talk to about her feelings for Iris. Cisco knows but she'd denied it the one time he brought it up. It's left unsaid, the same as his growing feelings for Barry she doesn't mention.
"Thanks," Iris says softly, glancing back down and picking up her fork again. The moment is broken and Caitlin feels a little emptier for it.
"It never feels like I'm doing enough," Iris continues, more subdued. "There's so much misinformation going around. You wouldn't believe half the 'tips' we get. Wish half the people who believed them didn't but..." Iris sighs and uses her free hand to massage her temples.
"Tell me what you need, if there's any science that would be helpful... I'm sure you've noticed I don't do people very well, but facts I can handle."
"You'd do that for me? Take time out of your busy schedule trying to fix it all?" Iris asks it teasingly, but it's not hard to see that the possibility raises her spirits. She's sitting up straighter, eyes brighter and all her attention is on Caitlin again. Not for the first time, Caitlin is stunned by Iris and worried that it might show on her face. Or in what slips out of her mouth when she fails to act nonchalant.
"Anything. I mean, anything you need, I can explain it to you. I'm not sure we are going to fix anything, not me personally. It would make me feel better if I could at least help you."
"I'll bear that in mind."
Iris gives her another considered look. Caitlin looks away first, as if breaking the moment makes it less of a moment. Everything is easier if she ignores the fluttering in her chest yet again. She'd offer that help to anyone, that's true. But nothing about that changes how it makes her feel to offer it to Iris and to see how grateful Iris is. They finish their meal in a companionable quietude because Caitlin doesn't trust herself to say anything else.
Iris doesn't worry about Caitlin that often, but practically every time she worries about Caitlin has one thing in common: work, too much of it. Iris isn't unfamiliar with pulling all-nighters or needing to push for deadlines, but neither Barry or Caitlin seem to have a good sense of when to call it a day. They more commonly need to be told when to apply the brakes. And this crisis is adding another strain on top of that with Carla's presence.
Sometimes when she sees them together, Iris feels an envy that Caitlin knows her mother at least, but nothing is as simple as that. She shouldn't project her issues on others. Carla is a formidable woman, much like her daughter, and it isn't hard to spot where the tension comes from. Neither backs down when they think they're right and everyone's worry is amped up right now.
Everyone is seeking comfort – control - in doing, in being useful. She can see the strain bearing down on Cisco too, his worry for Barry that she completely understands, and how he uses his comms shifts as a stress-relief valve. Because when he's the eyes and ears, Cisco knows what the danger is, where it is, and has some hope of protecting Barry.
It's hard being one of the people who stay behind and she knows her dad gets why – he's doing that himself, locked in his office, coordinating his people. As he walks wearily into The Cortex, he says nothing. He simply pulls her close for a hug and a forehead kiss that she thinks is more for his benefit. Maybe he does it just because he can. So many of the cops can't see their families or else they'll put them at risk.
Once she wanted to be one of them. Occasionally she still does, feeling nostalgic about what could have been, what she was on another Earth. But this is her life, done her way, no regrets. She's found another way to help, and not just out there. Iris is running high on the satisfaction of a great blog update, debunking a heap of rumors thanks to Cait's direction on where to go for the best non-nonsense medical sources. But Iris's plan with a capital P is something else entirely.
"Wait right here," she says to her dad, with a finger held in the air.
"I know that look. Tell me you're not leaving?" he shouts after her as she walks briskly to the elevator.
A few moments later there's a burst of static on the comms she's tapped into and Joe's voice is heard, volume wavering unsteadily as he asks, "Cisco, Iris didn't leave right?"
Iris rolls her eyes. It'd be nice if everyone didn't assume she'd be so reckless.
Cisco is slow to reply, distracted as usual. "Nah, she's in the building." It's best not to question exactly how Cisco is so sure she's not left. He has his ways and she has hers, though hers are decidedly more low-tech. Few people know where the intercom controls are.
"Team Flash, meet me in the lounge. You have 10 minutes to haul your asses there, or else."
The 'or else' she hasn't figured out, but people tend to do as she says and hopefully today is no exception. Not to forget Barry, she switches back to the comms bud in her ear.
"Patrol's over. Time out, Flash. That's an order."
"Hey, who's in charge of this shift!" Cisco whines over comms.
"What, are you gonna disagree – do you want Barry to stay out?"
"Well, no..."
"Then we've got no problem. See you in 9."
Arriving in the lounge, she goes over her mental checklist. The movie is downloaded. She starts the popcorn machine and pours the snacks into bowls. Her make-do fruit punch is ready in pitchers but she gets out glasses too. So far so good. The final step is getting the projector to work with her laptop, but if Cisco turns up soon she can delegate that.
One by one they file in. Caitlin and Carla are the last to arrive, with the exception of the eternally late Barry. Carla heads straight for the punch, taking big gulps of a hastily poured glass. Caitlin only hovers in the doorway.
"It's very kind of you to organize this, Iris, but we have a lot of work to get through-"
"Cait, you need to rest. This isn't optional. You can't save people if you don't look after yourself first. Besides, you're not the only people working on this. Update who you need to and take a break. A real break, not a coffee and five sugars to perk you up. A few hours of escapism with Harry Potter and you'll feel more refreshed than you have in days, trust me."
Caitlin is silent but she's biting her lip like she wants to disagree. It's then that Iris notices Carla has sidled up to them, handing Caitlin a glass.
"We can take a break. If you won't listen to her, listen to me. Doctor's orders."
Caitlin begins to reply but Carla shushes her.
"No, you don't get a say on that. You can't be your own patient." Carla turns back to Iris, a genuine smile on her face for once. "I'll go update Dr. Franklin. You should start without me."
Iris and her mom ganging up on her about watching a film throws her for a loop. Caitlin is left gaping, stuck on Oh! until she gets her wits back. By that time, Iris has managed to steer her towards the bar area to get snacks. Iris heads off to talk to Cisco about the projector, which never plays nice for anyone other than him. There've been jokes about it having a mind of its own but in this city you never know when that might turn out to be true.
Caitlin stays at the back, finding herself smiling as she watches Iris and Cisco bent over the laptop. In the background, Cecile is ordering Ralph to rearrange the couch segments. Barry blips back in, fresh from the showers, hair only partially dried by his short run to the lounge. Of course he's asking what he can do in an instant but Iris simply points to the food. An unspoken eat. He looks like he might disagree, but Iris gives him a decisive look and the words die on his lips.
There's an impressive spread laid out on almost every inch of the surface and fortunately it comes from pre-packaged goods, no cooking in sight. The film is picked out, handily avoiding any arguments. All they had to do was turn up. Iris is intent on taking care of them in the way she can best, by taking charge and making things effortless.
Iris looks up, finding Caitlin staring but Iris doesn't balk at it, she just flashes her a smile in return. There's that Oh, no feeling, the lurch of her stomach in response, but this time she thinks, is it really so bad? In the face of death, and who knows what they'll face in the future, it's nice to have that familiarity. Something real. And hers. Even if Iris isn't.
When it's time to settle down on the couches, the ideal spaces fill up quickly and no one is shy about taking up room, particularly Ralph. Barry is stretched out too, resting his achy muscles. Cisco is next to him on the floor with cushions, talking about how he won't let Barry hog the buttered popcorn this time, never mind that Cisco prefers the toffee popcorn. Tradition dictates that those bags don't get opened until the latter half of the film, to stop him falling asleep.
Cecile and Joe are in the middle, with Iris sitting down on the side. Carla returns and wastes no time interfering, shooing her over to sit next to Iris. That's how she ends up sandwiched between her mom and Iris for the first hour. Caitlin can't really relax like that.
At least when they take an intermission, her mom takes the chance to fill up a space left by Barry, claiming she needs to stretch, feet propped up on the coffee table in her new position. Barry's changed to sit upright on the couch and conspicuously closer to Cisco after getting his choice of snacks. Cisco is leaning back contentedly against Barry's legs.
When they've settled again, Cisco claps to turn off the lights and commands the projector to play with a booming "Make it so."
Iris bumps her shoulder and offers her more popcorn. It doesn't escape her notice that Iris could have sat further away this time, instead, she's just as close as before. It doesn't escape her mom's notice either but Caitlin chooses to ignore her raised eyebrow. She grabs a handful of popcorn as a distraction and ends up brushing fingers with Iris for a long second, her breath catching as she does.
It's hard to focus on the film with Iris right there. She knows her mom is trying to encourage her. And really, what is she waiting for? Iris is single. She's terminally single. For reasons unknown to Caitlin, Iris hasn't had a date since her and Barry's first and last. If Iris doesn't feel like that about her, that's fine. But if she does...
Feeling brave, Caitlin loops her arm through Iris's.
"Scared?" Iris asks. Not that there's much to be scared of, unless she were arachnophobic. Caitlin says yes automatically, though it's not the film she's scared of.
A little later, Caitlin cautiously rests her head on Iris's shoulder. A casual action to everyone else she's sure but not to Caitlin. Her heart is pounding in her chest and she can't concentrate on what any of the characters are saying. Iris rests her head against Caitlin's too a few minutes later, sending her heart-rate sky high. Once her nerves have calmed down, it becomes pleasant and the most comfortable she's been in weeks.
The next thing she knows, she's waking up to Iris's smile. She can't stop herself smiling back until reality hits her square in the face and she jerks up. "What time is it?"
She feels Iris's hand on her shoulder, gentle and warm, pulling her back into the very comfy seat.
"Hey, it's okay. You have time. The world isn't ending immediately."
"But-"
"Don't worry, your mom's on it. Remember, you're not the only person who can save the world."
Iris is beaming at her and projecting utter confidence that all is well. Honestly, Caitlin doesn't know what to make of it. People aren't usually subjected to her without coffee in the morning and she definitely can't handle thinking too hard at the moment. Iris seems to catch onto how worried her tired brain is, switching to more serious but no less sincere.
"I mean it. The fate of the world doesn't rest on your shoulders alone."
Rationally she knows that's true, but it doesn't feel like that's the case most of the time.
"It's not a burden if we share it - those are your words."
She sees something in Iris she hasn't seen before, a tenderness to her worry and a desire to be heard by her. So she kisses Iris without a second thought. Without checking who else is around. She does the exact opposite of her normal, acting free of the doubt that plagues her.
A second later, thought comes back but it's too late to abort. Iris's eyes are closed her and she's kissing her back. The whole thing is over so quickly, short and sweet. Everything it could be, but not nearly enough. A start. It's not the end of the world. Iris wants this too.
And luckily there is no audience, they alone have this moment.
"I- You're right, I can't save the world alone. Help me?"
"How? What can I do to help you?"
"Talk to me. Let me talk to you, talk it through. Because you don't know anything. I mean, um." Sheer panic hits her that she's babbling and may have offended Iris. She really needs her coffee. "A layperson's view, tell me when I'm being too-"
Caitlin gives up on English and ineffectually tries to communicate with hand motions. She's not sure Iris does get it but throughout her fumbling Iris is smiling. The kind of smile that makes Iris's eyes crinkle at the corners and chases away Caitlin's doubts. Iris is truly happy. Because of Cait.
"Just- be there. " When I need you, she doesn't say. Caitlin doesn't like to ask, fear of asking for too much too soon, but it seems Iris gets what she means.
"Yes. I can do that. Anything, for you," Iris says with a sure-fire certainty that has Caitlin blushing. That Iris mirrors her offer, treating her words with significance, makes her feel so heard and she blushes harder.
"We can take on the world together," Iris tells her.
"I guess we can try," she says, her reply not belying the extent of how she feels. She feels like they could do anything, but she also knows the biology behind it, the endorphins inside her. Trying isn't bad either way.
Iris takes her hand and Caitlin holds it tight, marveling at the feel of it in hers that no science can fully explain.