Sorry that it's been so many months! I kind of lost my momentum after Season 2 gave us basically no Snowbarry moments. However, my shipping feels have been reignited, and this story is no longer on indefinite hiatus! This chapter occurs between Season 1, Episode 20 "The Trap" and Episode 21 "Grodd Lives". Enjoy and please review!

"Caitlin, I know that we've got… a lot going on right now, and Eddie's missing, but I think we should talk for just a minute."

Caitlin cringed, mentally and probably also physically (she wasn't feeling self-aware enough in that moment to take notice). She pursed her lips, then pushed them into a fake smile as she made an effort to reply casually, "Of course, Barry. What can I do for you?" As she responded, she slowly turned towards him, using her peripheral vision to ensure that he wasn't standing to close before coming around to directly face him.

"Now, I really don't want you to take this the wrong way, but you seem a little off to me."

"Can you really blame me after everything that's been going on?" she spoke softly.

"Did you really have to slap me awake after Everyman knocked out, bound and gagged me?" he urged her.

"That's was days ago, and you're asking me about that now?" came her dismissive reply.

"Yeah, and between all the vigilante drama, it's been bothering me a little bit ever since," he chided indignantly.

She had tried to pretend that it had never happened. She really had. But Dr Caitlin Snow was a scientist, not an actress. And neither she nor Barry were idiots. Sadly, that meant that the only normal, valid reason to slap one's friends, which was the presence of biting insects, wouldn't fool Barry today.

Falsely calm, she explained, "I was freaking out when I saw you… the way you were. I wasn't thinking straight, and in that moment my frazzled brain thought that the best way to awaken you would be to inflict sudden physical pain. That's all it was. I'm fine… well, as fine as I can be, given our almost impossible to believe circumstances. Now if you don't mind, we both have a lot on our plates, so let's get back to work." Caitlin began briskly walking over to the opposite end of the lab, trying to make herself look as busy as possible to discourage Barry from continuing the conversation.

Sadly for her, Barry wasn't taking the hint, or if he was, he was choosing to ignore it. How rude of him. "Everybody knows that when most women say they're fine they don't actually mean it."

"Okay, first of all, that's rather sexist of you. Secondly, I'm not most women, Barry Allen. I would have thought that you know me better than that, you know, after all we've been through."

Her will to keep her secret was breaking. They could both tell. He could sense it, and she knew that.

Calmly, he responded, "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"That you're not just off about Wells and our situation and everything else; you're off about me."

"No I'm not Barry Allen! We are absolutely fine!" Caitlin screeched like an 11-year-old who'd just lost a game.

He'd finally made her snap. It wasn't the epic explosion of truth, revelation and sense that he'd been hoping for, but it was a start.

Standing close behind her, Barry whispered compassionately in her ear, "Caitlin, please."

"Get away from me!" she shouted in alarm, giving him a quick, firm push out of her personal space.

From his facial expression, one would have thought that Barry had just had the beating of his life. Horrified, she muttered "sorry" over and over in a high pitched voice as she dashed away into the bathroom, away from his hurt face before he could see her cry.

Too stunned to process the fact that she was running away, Barry didn't move until it was too late, and she'd locked herself in the bathroom.

He sped to where she was, stopping a little too late to prevent himself from lightly colliding with the closed door. His slightly pained grunt was answered by a startled gasp from within.

"Barry, are you alright?"

He drew a deep breath before he answered, "I would ask you the same question, but I already know the answer. So please, just tell me what's wrong, Caitlin. I want to fix whatever I or someone else did to make you so upset."

There was no verbal response, only the sound of poor attempts at muffling sobs.

"Caitlin Crystal Snow, please," Barry moaned, elongating each word as if it hurt to say them.

"Please what, Bartholomew Henry Allen?" she croaked back.

"Are you really going to do this to me, Caitlin? Just let me continue to feel like I'm walking on eggshells around you?" he muttered in annoyance, carefully controlling the volume of his voice.

"Are we really going to do this to ourselves, Barry? Again? This thing where we fight and I end up in tears but then we just forgive each other or pretend to, I don't know what it really is anymore, and then decide to just pretend it never happened instead of really properly talking about it."

Deciding to ignore most of what she'd stuttered out between coughs and sniffles, Barry exclaimed in exasperation, "This thing? What are talking about? It's not like it happens enough for it to be a thing. We're meant to be friends Caitlin, not enemies."

"Yeah, well friends listen to each other, and you clearly didn't listen to me. We need to talk in a civilised way that doesn't involve ranting and tantrums and screaming at each other. And as for what you said, because I know how to listen, have you ever heard that old saying? One's an incident, two's a coincidence and three's a pattern. This is the third time we've done this little song and dance. This is now officially a thing."

"Clearly someone's been watching a little too much Teen Wolf," Barry retorted.

"Clearly it takes one to know one," Caitlin answered back, sounding as though she'd stopped crying.

Barry hoped that meant they were making progress. He noticeably softened as he said, "That doesn't mean it's a thing. The first two instances were on the same night, and that was the night we had the meeting about Wells. We were all upset, and we were all kinda just saying stuff out of anger. It was almost like when Bivolo whammied me. We weren't really ourselves that night."

Caitlin paused before she drawled, "And there's where the problem lies. You weren't really yourself a few days ago either. I mean, not in the same way, but yeah."

"Wait, so did Everyman do something when he was disguised as me? Like, something particularly bad? Something to you?"

"I shouldn't have said anything. It was nothing, don't worry about it."

"There you go again."

"I'm sorry?"

"No, you're not, so don't say that you are. You're doing it to me again. You are needlessly keeping secrets from me, Caitlin, and I've had enough of it! I thought that you were one of the few people I didn't have to keep secrets from, and that it was the same vice versa. I guess I was wrong. I guess it only goes one way."

"Now don't you dare start comparing me to Iris!"

"Who said anything about Iris?"

The colour drained from her face as she realised what she'd said. The silence that followed was deafening, the tension achingly grating.