AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, thanks you guys for reading, liking, and leaving your reviews on this fic. It's my first SnowBarry fanfic and I am kinda testing the waters still, so to speak. I appreciate all the love I'm getting from you wonderful readers you. Keep those reviews coming; I like hearing your thoughts about each chapter and the whole story in general. And if you like this story enough to recommend it, then please, do so without much ado. Let other SnowBarry shippers out there read and enjoy (I hope! lol) this fanfic.

II – Caitlin

Ten weeks later...

Are we okay?" Barry asked while he hovered behind me. We just took down Everyman and he was safely locked up in our specialized metahuman containment cell in the basement of S.T.A.R. Labs. I'd been avoiding him since that incident with the Fake Barry (Everyman got to him first and copied the real Barry, leaving the Real Barry tied up, gagged and locked up in his bedroom closet) while I was finalizing the serum that would render Everyman powerless for a short period of time. I sensed something was off when Fake Barry started hitting on me. Granted a few weeks back we woke up in my bed together sans our clothing and whatever happened the night before was a complete blank in my mind, but Barry and I managed to skate around that incident until Everyman decided to hit on me.

"Y-yeah," I stammered walking with at least a good two feet distance between us as we left The Pipeline. Dr. Wells already wheeled himself out and bid Barry and I a good night; Cisco was still in Starling City with Detective West.

"Are you sure?" He didn't sound convinced.

"Yup," I nodded while still avoiding looking at him. I can't let him look me in the eyes 'coz I know for sure he'll know that I was hiding something. Granted I can't remember a single thing that happened between us that night a couple of months back, but I was pretty sure some amount of kissing was involved and damn, I can't even remember what it felt like to be kissed by the real Barry Allen and not some imposter like Hannibal Bates!

"Caitlin," he reached out and grabbed my hand, tugging me back so I'd stop walking.

So much for him dropping this discussion.

I took a deep breath and slowly turned to face him. I tried to pull my hand away, but Barry held on to my hand tight.

"You've been avoiding me since you slapped me awake, which, by the way, still stings," he added the last part on a lighter note, a mischievous glint lighted those damn baby blues of his that sometimes turned my brain to mush and my knees to jell-o's.

"I didn't hit that hard," I argued. I might've used all the strength I could muster when I slapped him back to consciousness. I was panicking when I found him and still reeling from the kiss Everyman stole so I just acted.

"Tell that to my jaw," and to prove his point he started flexing and rotation his jaw.

"Barry—"

"Did he hurt you, Caitlin?" He cut me off before I could finish my sentence. I contemplated on teasing him, but the seriousness in his tone as well as his face made me think twice about joking about what I was going to say. I felt his hand grip mine tighter, his supposedly stinging jaw clenched tight and his usually smiling baby blues turned icy. "Did he hurt you while impersonating me?" he demanded.

"Barry—" again he cut me off, and this time he closed the space between us and I found myself once again having my personal space invaded by none other than Mr. Barry Allen, only this time it was really him that was standing so close to me and looking down at me with those blue eyes that have grown all too familiar to me ever since he woke up from his coma a few months back.

"Caitlin, I know things between us have been iffy since that night we went to the karaoke bar—" I rolled my eyes at that; talk about major understatement, "—but we managed to get past the awkwardness and actually talked about it," he pointed out, which was true.

Yes, it was awkward the first 48 to 72 hours since we both woke up naked in my bed, but after we wrapped up the Peek-a-Boo case Barry and I actually talked – over coffee at Jitters since neither one of us trusted ourselves around alcohol after what just so recently happened – and agreed that it was a momentary lapse in judgement; we were both lonely, yadiyadiyada, and we agreed to bury the hatchet, so to speak. And it worked, actually. Now I won't lie and say that I never thought about that night or the morning after; there were times when I find myself woolgathering, wondering what kind of a lover Barry Allen was considering I had no clear recollection of what happened after we left the bar (some incidents were hazy, but I was pretty sure I told Barry I wasn't feeling well, which was what prompted our fast getaway from the bar that night).

"Barry—" Again he cut me off, and it was starting to annoy me that I couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"Cait," he let go of my hand, but just as I thought I could walk away from him I felt his hands on my arms and I was slowly being turned so I was fully facing him, "I know something happened with you and Everyman, otherwise you won't be this jumpy around me."

"What makes you think my jumpiness had anything to do with whatever Everyman prancing around as you did while you were unconscious?" I needed to turn this conversation around and deflect discussing whatever happened between me and Everyman while he was masquerading as Barry.

"It can't be about the Dr. Wells theory."

"And what made you so sure it wasn't about that?" I challenged.

"Because you'd be angry at me, not jumpy whenever I get a foot near you," he pointed out matter of factly.

God, I hate it that he knew me well. Ronnie didn't even know me as well as Barry did, and I was with Ronnie longer!

"This will pass," I insisted. And it will pass, I just needed some space and maybe a damn distraction so I wasn't thinking about it constantly. "And it wasn't you, it was Hannibal Bates did whatever this is that's causing me to be jumpy. But I'll get over it," I reassured him.

I thought he was going to argue with me. He gave me this long, sideways look he gives someone when he was trying to figure something out. But thankfully he dropped it and I let out a silent prayer of thanks that he didn't press me further. Instead he took my hand once again and led me out and away from S.T.A.R. Labs and towards CCPD.

There was something far more pressing than my feeling awkward around my co-worker for a kiss that he wasn't even the one who instigated it in the first place. Waiting for us in his lab back in CCPD was the answer to the puzzle that was Dr. Harrison Wells.