oh and when we get together

Their summer studded with road trips passes by quickly, August and September are swallowed up by rainstorms and autumn arrives too quickly for either's liking. Still, the memories linger as strong as the attraction, and neither can deny the shift in their perspective, even if it's not enough to push them forward—not without the safety of distance and the lightheartedness their trips always bring about. As such, when an October morning dawns hot and sunny, Barry's first thought is a nostalgic one for the summer gone by. Halfway ready for work, he looks out his window and smiles as a plan forms in the back of his mind. A few calls later and he's out the door. A few stops after that, and one more call, and he's grinning as he waits.

It doesn't take long: his last call to Caitlin ("Hey, can you meet me in the parking lot?") sparks her worry and she's outside Star Labs in minutes, wearing a puzzled frown to go with her soft blue dress. "Is everything okay Barry?" Her eyes rake over his form—quick, analytical, searching—taking in the way he's leaned against her car, a grin and a pair of sunglasses covering his face.

"Play hooky with me today?" Barry asks, pushing off and not bothering to answer her question. In the space of a few seconds, he's settling the new pair of sunglasses over her eyes instead and grinning down at her, waiting for her reply. He watches the way hesitance plays across her lips, warring with her own nostalgia, before it gives way to a grin that makes his heart stutter to a country beat. He's close enough to see her eyes beneath the dark lenses, zeroed in on his and bright with excitement.

"Where are we going?" It's comforting to realize, in that cluster of syllables, that she's missed their road trips too.

"Wherever we want," he answers with a laugh, tugging open her door and beaming back as she slides into the passenger seat of her car, the backseat already filled with a basket of snacks (perks of a spare key).

Caitlin settles into her seat in the moments it takes Barry to circle around the car (slow and lazy, no need to speed away a day like today). "Can we stop at my apartment first?" She asks, a brow raised under the arch of the sunglasses, tipping her head toward the hem of her dress at his confusion. "I'm not exactly dressed for a road trip."

Personally he thinks she's always dressed for anything, but he just nods and after a brief visit to her place, they hit the highway and let familiarity wash over them in time with the music.

It's gloriously easy, sliding back into their routine as miles stretch behind them. Caitlin's back in the passenger seat, back in shorts and a tank top, humming along to the radio and watching him out of the corner of her eye, looking utterly content in this little world they create for themselves. He's totally given in to the mood too, sprawled in the driver's seat with the cruise on, one arm resting across the back of the seats, his freckles glowing in the sunshine that's filtering through the windshield. They talk and sing in turns, about everything and nothing, and it's like summer again—free and easy and relaxed in a brief, stolen moment in time.

"I missed this," she remarks after about an hour, turning in her seat. "Thanks for stealing me away."

'I missed you' lingers on the tip of his tongue, courage cropping up with the up swell of the feelings that have been building all summer. It's not that he doesn't see her (just about every day) as it is, but there's something about this Caitlin—flyaway hair, bare limbs, beaming smile with a tune rolling off her tongue—that's different: here he feels like maybe he has a chance, like they have a chance, away from all the other stuff that fills their lives. "It looked too much like summer to pass up."

He reads her agreement in her nod and the way her eyes linger, warm as the sun overhead, before she leans forward to turn the music up, recognizing the beat of their favorite road trip song. Feeling light as air as they both start singing along, Barry turns off the highway so they can snake along the shore of one of the big lakes they've stopped at a few times.

He finds one of the wide swaths of sandy beach and parks Caitlin's car so they can eat lunch. Stretched out on a blanket, bathed in sunshine, he leaves the radio playing while they eat and sprawl, fall asleep and then wade through the shallows of the water. It's lazy and perfect and magic and he watches Caitlin with stars in his eyes as she playfully kicks water in his direction, daring him to follow her into the cold lake. "I know you can run on water Barry, but how about walking in it?" She teases, her cheeks dusted with a hint of October sunburn. His heart beats heavy in his chest at the picture she makes—denim and red, auburn curls and laughing eyes, challenging him with her hands on her hips and her lips turned up.

He can't help but chuckle at her attempts to egg him on, the playful edge of her voice that breaths challenge, which they both knows is totally going to work. "But the water's cold Caitlin," he tries, whining a little boyishly, hoping the sound will win her over. Honestly, it might feel like summer (outside and inside) but it is October and the lake water she'd splashed his way had not been warm.

"The Flash is a afraid of a little cold water?" Her voice is full of mockery, light and bright and oh so alluring—it causes him to shake his head and heave a sigh before bursting forward and scooping her up where she stands, racing across the top of the lake at a few hundred miles an hour, laughing as much as she does even while clinging to him in surprise. When she's managed to maneuver herself to be curled against his chest, he runs them back to their beach and pauses a few feet from shore so that they sink into calf deep water and even Caitlin shrieks at the sudden cold.

"Barry Allen!" She scolds, twisting in his arms only to trail off, caught in the expression he's wearing.

His eyes are piercing green, lit by the afternoon sun, focused on watching her every move with an intensity that leaves her breath thin in her chest. His hands are suddenly heavy and burning where they've laid anchor against her hips, holding her close and easing away the cold sensation of the water along their lower legs. She lifts her gaze to hold his steady, the air between them ragged with their breaths (they could blame it on the running and the laughing, but they've long learned not to lie to each other or themselves about these kinds of things). "Cait," he whispers and it's a question and a confession and a desperate longing all wrapped up into one affectionate syllable that sounds anything but affectionate the way it rolls, broken, off his tongue.

Her lips part just slightly, watching his eyes dart to them for the movement before they rake back up to hers, and it's the way she leans up on her toes (which sink a little in the sandy lake bottom) that signals the permission she's giving him. Caitlin catches the briefest upturn of his lips before they're pressed against hers, a chaste kiss she immediately deepens, pressing forward (sinking a little more) and grasping for his shoulders. She feels Barry smile and stoop slightly for her and she'd laugh if she wasn't so distracted by the way their mouths move together just as easily as the rest of them always do.

It feels like forever (and not long enough) that they stand there in the water, kissing and exploring and ignoring the pull of the waves and the cold and the waning afternoon, but eventually they pull apart, breathless but blissful.

His eyes are soft as he stares at her, the expression he's wearing vacant and love-struck and gentle and amazed—she flushes a little under the tender tilt of his brow and the way he raises one hand to tuck her wayward curls behind her ear. "I've been wanting to do that for months," he finally breathes, still grinning as he watches pink curl across her cheeks, graceful as the wind over the water.

Laughter blooms from deep in her chest, fingers tracing up his shoulders to lace against his neck and pull him back down for another kiss. This time when they part, she's the one who speaks. "You could have," Caitlin teases, as light as every moment they've spent together has been so far, even if they both know this changes all the other moments too (for the better, absolutely for the better).

"I guess I know for next time then," Barry jokes right back, breaking away to thread his fingers with hers and guide them back to the sun warmed sand, picking up the song playing from her rolled down windows and humming his happiness. They fall back onto the blanket, Caitlin's head against his chest as they talk away the last hour of light, watching the sky streak into Technicolor before Barry's growling stomach interrupts a story he's telling and causes Caitlin to bust into laughter.

"Maybe we should get going." A second rumble causes his laugher to join hers and they start getting packed up.

The end of the summer and the rapidly intruding real world don't seem quite as cold as they had yesterday, not with Barry's fingers tangled in hers as they trade a few more kisses against the car door he is very slowly opening for her (or maybe it's that every kiss is like a little burst of sunshine and open road, allowing summer to linger within them, even as it fades around them). Once she's settled in the seat, he presses the door closed again and heads for the other side. They trade a smile and Barry turns the key. The sound that greets them is not a rumbling engine but a dead one. "Guess I shouldn't have left the radio on all day?" He tries to sound contrite against her cry if "Barry!" but it doesn't work. "I suppose we're stuck here forever!" He doesn't sound like he much minds—it doesn't take too much convincing for her to not mind either.

(They do make it home though much later then expected, but only because they get distracted (several times) between Barry running for a new battery, swapping it out, and the starlit drive back to Central City.)

Final chapter of this trilogy. Thanks for reading along folks, I hope you enjoyed it! It was definitely fun to write, road trip tropes are always a good time. Feedback and ideas always welcome, thanks in advance!

Take Care & Best Wishes,

A.O.R.