"Who broke up with you now?"

Caitlin huffed and reclined her chair when her friend's face showed up on her phone screen. "Well, hello to you too, Ralph," she said, snarky. "How could you possibly have guessed that from my name on the screen?"

Ralph snickered. "You never call me unless you need something or recently broke up with someone," her friend rationalized.

"That's not true!"

"Yeah? How are you, then?"

Caitlin bit her lip and tapped her fingers on her desk. "Not so good. I recently broke up with someone-"

"Ha!"

"-but that's not why I am calling!"

"Then, you can tell me what you need later. What happened?" He squinted, trying to look behind her. "And where are you? I hear an echo when you talk."

"I'm in my lab, you know, in the basement."

"Why aren't you at work? It's 10 AM."

"Because I left yesterday."

Ralph's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

Caitlin sighed, wondering why she hadn't lied instead. "Mercury Labs is not financing my research anymore," she explained, staring at a long To-Do-List written on her board, trying to spot one thing she could still work on without expensive equipment. "My partner and I are on our own. As for the guy I was seeing, same old: according to him, I'm emotionally unavailable."

Reality somehow became a lot heavier when Caitlin realized that she wasn't summarizing her current life situation. No, that was her whole life as a freelancing scientist with limited social interaction and no resources.

"So," Ralph started, once her silence extended for too long, "you're still too good for any work place and back to dating guys you don't really like, because you expect a certain amount of emotional support while hoping they actually leave you alone to work."

Caitlin rolled her eyes at him. "And then you wonder why I barely call."

"Hey, it's not my fault that you sound bored when you talk about men and impatient when you start a new job."

"That doesn't give you the right to P.I.-me."

Ralph put his phone on his desk and rested his head on his elbows. "Fine. What about your research? Any facilities interested in picking it up?"

"One." She grimaced. "Tannhauser Industries."

"Isn't that your mom's company?"

"Yes, and I will say no."

"What? Why?"

"I can't stand her breathing down my neck all the time."

Her friend arched an eyebrow. "Is this 2008 Caitlin talking?"

"Ralph…"

"Caitlin, things with your mother were difficult when you were a teenager, but now…"

"Oh, they still are. Trust me, I have her over every Christmas." She tapped the screen with a wary finger, not willing to accept family advice. "Also, I have worked hard to detach myself from her. I don't want my life's work to have her brand all over it…"

"Your life's work?" Ralph snorted. "Caitlin, you're 26. You finished med school last year and just got into this project. You can start over if you wanted..."

"I don't want to."

Ralph sighed. "Why don't you think about it? Ask her if you can come to Central City and work with her for a few weeks, see if it works out. You can stay with me if you need to."

Caitlin looked at her board one more time, and the sudden wish to accept that suggestion didn't take her by surprise. She hadn't intended to mention any of this to Ralph precisely because she knew he wouldn't agree with her about Doctor Tannhauser this time. Because she also knew, deep down, that maybe she had a point when she was seventeen years old, but not anymore.

"I'll figure something out," she let out, before she could commit to anything. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Ralph said, as usual. "But things have been slow this month."

"No dates?"

He huffed. "I'd rather beg to be reinstated than go on a date, you know that."

"Well, I figured that you would change your mind eventually..."

But he firmly cut her off. "I won't. Now, why were you calling?"

Caitlin tried her best not to look hurt. This, right here, was the reason why it always felt like she only called Ralph to ask for advice and favors: because he wouldn't talk to her about himself at all. Not even when he had been kicked out the force, a year before. Back in high school, it was way easier to tell when Ralph was going through something and to get him to share a little bit, but since Caitlin had moved to Coast City at the end of their senior year, reaching out to tell him stuff was the only way to keep in contact.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to take a case here, in Coast City," Caitlin finally answered, giving in.

"I could consider it," Ralph said, noticeably happy to get into business. "Whose case?"

"My partner, actually. Sue Dearbon." Caitlin saw Ralph grab a pen from his side and started speaking slower to let him take notes. "She wants to find her father. It's a cold case the police closed in the 90s, and the few people she wants to speak to still live here."

"Has she followed any of those leads yet?"

"No. She thinks her dad could've been involved with dangerous people and she is a little scared of asking around."

"The 90s. Wow, the trace is cold, and some data is going to be very hard to gather. This could take weeks…."

"You can crash at my place."

"Or…"

Ralph stayed still for so long, with his mouth shaped in an "o", that Caitlin thought the connection was failing.

"Or?" she prompted.

"You could come up here while I'm gone, talk to your mom and try working with her for a few weeks!" he happily exclaimed. "I stay at your place and you stay at mine!"

Caitlin blinked, letting that sink in. "You want us to switch homes?"

"Yes!"

"Like in The Holiday?"

"Oh, totally like in The Holiday."

Caitlin shook her head, mildly surprised by the fact he knew that movie. "That's ridiculous."

"Oh, no. Don't tell me you're a Love Actually kind of girl…"

"Ralph, it's the idea that's ridiculous. I can't just drop everything and…"

"Caitlin, you're unemployed and your friend will be too worried about her dad's case to help you with anything. You might actually do something productive accepting your mom's help."

"I can't work for her for weeks!"

"Why not? It gives you time to do some progress, make a breakthrough or whatever, and then you can leave."

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. "First, you were telling me to give my mom a chance, and now you're implying that I should use her lab and then ditch her?"

"Just tell her that the only condition is that you're free to go if she drives you crazy." He shrugged. "Plus, don't you want to meet a nice, sweet piano player guy?"

Caitlin winced, noticing Central City's skyline through Ralph's window, right behind him. "Why don't I get to have the British guy?" she wondered, adding to his The Holiday reference.

"Because come on, girl. I'm totally Cameron Diaz in this scenario."

Caitlin smiled fondly. "Is the weather nice, at least?"

"Cold, but sunny as ever. Somehow."

Caitlin ran a quick check-list in her mind, only to make sure she had enough winter clothes. She had gotten rid of most of it since she had moved to Coast City, but had purchased some more for a few trips to the North.

That was it. It was settled. She knew she couldn't afford being picky during this time, no matter how smart her diplomas proved her to be.

She fisted her hands under her desk. "Okay," she decided.

Ralph grinned. "Really?" he exclaimed. "You're switching places with me?"

"Yes, let's do it."

"Alright. Saturday morning?"

It was Thursday. "Okay, perfect."

"Okay, I'll call you tomorrow night, so we can exchange instructions."

"And make sure I don't change my mind, am I right?"

Ralph looked amused. "Oh, that won't be necessary, I'm heading there anyway. I will kick you out of your own home if you're still there when I arrive."

"Got it. Goodbye."

Caitlin hung up the phone and rubbed her temples, trying to focus on the things that she needed to get done before returning to her hometown, and not on what awaited there.

That Saturday, after a three-hour train ride, Caitlin finally arrived at Central City.

Like expected, as soon as she got out at the station, she found herself trapped in an immense crowd that moved three steps per minute towards the exit. She sighed, trying to overcome that already familiar feeling of suffocation. The city had never been exactly overpopulated, but there were always too many people in it, anyway. People rarely went to Central City to stay, but the huge influx and outflux loop kept it permanently busy. It was a madness that only became more evident when it took her nearly half an hour to get a cab.

Ralph's P.I. office, which was also his apartment, was in a bleak looking building in downtown with no elevator. Since Caitlin had managed to fit a month's worth of clothes and other essentials into one bag, she had to take at least three breaks in between flights of stairs to carry it to the fourth floor.

After what felt like an eternity, Caitlin reached the door with a glass window at the end of the hallway ("Ralph Dibny – Private Investigator"), picked up the copy of Ralph's key from under a plant pot, like he had instructed her, and opened the door with it.

"Oh, no," she exclaimed, after one peek inside.

Caitlin flinched, pulled her bag inside the apartment and quickly closed the door behind her, frantically looking around.

It was like a tornado had just passed through the place.

The trashcan had been dragged out the kitchen and turned over. The content - mostly papers, beer cans and take out containers - was spread all over the carpet. The sheets had been pulled off the bed and ditched in a corner, along with the pillows. The drawers of the dresser and the nightstand were all open, and the clothes Ralph hadn't taken with him were laying in a pile on his desk.

Caitlin shuddered and opened the door to examine the lock. There were no signs of forced entry. Had this just happened? Had an intruder waited until he was out of town, used the key to enter the apartment and put it back on their way out? What had they taken?

She cursed Ralph under her breath. Had he suggested this exchange knowing she could not be safe in his apartment? He had put a lot of people behind bars before being kicked out of the force and wrecked a few homes by outing cheaters as a P.I., after all. She had never stopped to think about the growing list of enemies her friend had.

Caitlin took a deep breath, deciding who she needed to call first. She really didn't want Ralph to return or delay his investigation in any way. Not to mention, she had her own lot of evidence in front of her, so it was probably wiser to alert the police now that she still hadn't touched anything.

She pulled out her phone and called 911.

Ten minutes after her call, Caitlin was greatly surprised to find a middle-aged, dark skinned detective and a young, tall guy in a CSI jacket at the door, since she had expected them to interview her first and inspect the place later that day.

"Good morning, miss," the police officer greeted her, looking behind her. "I'm Detective Joe West, this is my…"

"Where's Ralph?" the CSI asked Caitlin, walking into the apartment uninvited.

Caitlin stepped to the side to make room for him and gestured the detective to come in, too. "Excuse him," the man apologized, pointing at the CSI guy. "Mr. Dibny is a friend of ours. Mind to tell us where he is?"

"I am an old friend of his, from Coast City," Caitlin explained, watching the nervous scientist pacing across the room from the corner of her eye. "We both had business trips this month. I had to get here, and he is on his way to Coast City, so we sort of… switched places." Detective West raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Caitlin almost expected him to drop a The Holiday reference. "I got here less than twenty minutes ago and found the place like this…"

She heard the CSI chuckling behind her.

"What is it, Barry?" Detective West asked his associate, watching him walk around with his rubber gloves on.

Barry? Caitlin thought, a small bell ringing in her brain as she watched the back of his head.

"What time did Ralph take the train to Coast City?" Barry asked, carefully walking towards the bed and examining the nightstand.

"He took the 8 AM train, I believe," Caitlin answered, frowning. There was something strangely familiar about the man's voice, throaty and yet smooth.

He hummed. "Then" - He raised his index finger - "I am glad to inform you that no one broke into this apartment."

"What?"

Relief took over Caitlin's features in response to his words. Although, to her annoyance, he kept walking around the room with his back facing her. Ironically, now she was somehow more intrigued by his face than whatever had happened in there.

"The alarm clock is set up for 7:30 AM," he said, noticeably more relaxed, too. "Was it making noise when you got here?"

Caitlin exchanged a quick look with Detective West, who shrugged at her. "I… No, I don't think so," she answered. "Why? What does that mean?"

"That he was here to turn it off, which is weird, considering 7:30 is the time he should've gotten out of the door to catch his train. Meaning, he overslept and rushed out of bed when the alarm, wrongly set up, went off." Barry pointed at the discarded bedding in the corner. "Then, he took all of his clothes out of his drawers and carelessly selected what to shove into a bag." He walked towards the desk, and it was then that Caitlin noticed that the pile mostly consisted of pajama buttons and sweatpants. "Finally, those bag wheel marks on the carpet indicate that he dragged his luggage to the kitchen, grabbed something from there, probably a snack, and accidentally bumped into the trash can, turning it over as he tried to get out."

Caitlin frowned. "So… Ralph made this mess because he was late for his train?"

Barry clicked his tongue and nodded, then walked towards the kitchen to show her the sink, filled with dirty dishes. "Yes. Also, I've known Ralph for over a decade, this is what his place usually looks like."

Caitlin let out a groan. "I can't believe I made you guys come all the way here because my friend is a pig." She covered her face with her hands. "I'm so, so sorry."

The CSI turned around, giggling. "And I'm sorry for not introducing myself before, I was just very worried when we got the call. I'm Barry Allen."

Even though Caitlin had finally gotten a clear look at his face, it wasn't until he said his full name that something finally clicked, triggering a sequence of images that flashed across her mind:

She was suddenly back in Central City High, in a lab full of students she had never taken classes with, anxiously looking around to find someone to partner with. Right when she was about to inform the teacher that she would have to work alone, someone poked her in the back. She turned around to find the same pair of bright green eyes looking at her, the same handsome smile, and heard a younger version of the same velvety voice saying almost the same words.

"Hey, quick introduction: I'm Barry Allen. Can I work with you?"

Caitlin's jaw dropped. "Barry," she whispered, shocked.

Barry's lips spread into a wide grin. "That took you a little longer than I hoped, Caitlin," he joked, with no hurt in his voice.

"Oh, my God." Her eyes roamed over his face. His features exhibited a maturity that was new to her, along with some well-groomed facial hair, but the boyish sparkle in his eyes was still there. "I'm sorry…"

Barry rushed a hand to his face. "It's okay, it's the beard-"

"No, I just hadn't seen you since-"

"Prom," they finished at unison.

A clearer memory rushed to Caitlin's head this time. A slow song playing in the background, those earnest green eyes fixed on hers, his hand kindly cupping her face and the new and overwhelming sensation that washed over her as he closed the gap between them and…

Caitlin's cheeks flamed when she heard Detective West clearing his throat behind her, wondering if she had really been staring at Barry long enough for him to feel the need to snap her out the trance.

"I'll wait for you in the car, Barry," he said, in a little bit of a mood. "Miss Snow," he added, more politely.

"I'm sorry again," Caitlin said, as she distantly heard the man opening the apartment's door to leave.

Until that moment, her former classmate and friend's face had worked as a photograph that was bringing back all these repressed memories, and Caitlin had been so caught up in them that she hadn't realized that Barry hadn't take his eyes off her, either.

She felt another rush of blood reaching her face. No wonder why Detective West had bailed. From the outside, that probably looked like the longest non-verbal human exchange in history.

"I-I thought I'd never see you again," Barry finally commented, lowly.

"I thought I'd never set foot in Central City again," Caitlin chuckled, nervously.

"Yeah, yeah. I remember you stating something similar, a few years ago."

Even though Barry was still smiling, there was something a little blue in his expression. Another familiar, yet unspoken thing to add to this already overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Something they had avoided talking about before. Something that prevented her from reacting to his comment in any way.

"How are you?" Caitlin asked, a sudden, thin thread of sadness running through her voice, making the question sound a little deeper than she planned.

Barry touched the side of his chest, where his CSI insignia was. "I made it," he answered, cheerily.

"I can see that." She sighed, remembering one long conversation about college admissions anxiety. "It was cool seeing you in action a minute ago."

He shook his head, modestly. "Sorry if I pulled your leg a little bit, I just wanted to reassure you."

Her breath hitched. "I mean, it worked. I'm sorry I wasted your time, though."

He spluttered. "I'm not. Not at… I mean, wow." He blew out a breath and rested his hands on his hips, taking a better look at her. "It's really, really nice to see you."

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly lost for words. It seemed like his worry for Ralph had somehow left his surprise to see her on the back of his mind, and now it was front and center. Meanwhile, Caitlin couldn't tell if she was flustered and silent because of the memories she was retrieving, his presence or the fact he was nervous too. Her brain seemed to be stuck in a loop, playing that key moment at prom, fixating on how he had gotten even more handsome and wondering what he was thinking.

Caitlin intertwined her own fingers and placed her open hands over her chest, irrationally afraid that he could detect the rampant beating of her heart just as easily as crime scenes clues.

Barry, bless his heart, tried once again to break the silence he had started. "So, wha-what brings you to…? Never mind," he interrupted himself, waving his hands. "You said it was a business trip."

"Yeah," Caitlin simply said, not finding it necessary to specify that this was a job she was about 70% sure she wouldn't take. "I'll be here for… a while."

Barry smirked. "A while, huh?"

She sheepishly laughed. She didn't even stop to think why, she just did. "A month or so."

"Wow, sounds like you'll have your hands full."

"Thankfully, I don't need to take care of that until Monday, so I guess I'll start my weekend cleaning all of" - she looked around, scrunching up her nose - "this."

Barry opened and closed his mouth, letting out an unsure grunt.

"What?" Caitlin squeaked.

"Nothing… I mean, actually, something," he babbled, letting out a small chuckle at the end. "I could help."

Caitlin swallowed. "What?"

"I could help you clean the place." He talked so fast that the whole sentence sounded like three long words. "I mean, I know where everything goes."

Caitlin got her hands off her chest, wishing she could put them on her face. She was, once again, blushing furiously. "I-I can't let you do that…"

"It's fine, it's nothing I haven't done before, and I'm supposed to clock out at 2 today. You could go out and grab a few things… and I can cook for the two of us. We could…" He fidgeted his fingers, but seemingly ended up deciding to finish his sentence, "catch up?"

Since Caitlin was already emotionally confused by this whole situation, his offers somehow oversaturated her brain, causing it to switch to autopilot. "What should I grab?"

"All the ingredients required to make your favorite dish, since I doubt Ralph has anything in his fridge."

Her tone turned teasing. "What makes you think you can make my favorite dish?"

He wagged his eyebrows. "Well, there's this very accessible database called YouTube..." Caitlin chuckled, and he flashed her a smile in response. "See you at 2:30?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

Before opening the front door, Barry turned around one more time to look at her, and that image somehow got overlapped by another quick memory: He was standing next to his open car door, in his prom suit, with a longing look she was reciprocating from her parents' porch.

"Damn!"

Caitlin snapped out of her daydreaming and quickly realized that Barry had bumped into Ralph's closed front door.

"This thing," he groaned, grabbing the door knob. "I forgot to turn it." He opened the door and stepped outside. "That's how doors work. Crazy, right?" he continued, peeking inside and winking at her, causing her to giggle again. "Hey." She looked up to meet his eyes, and his gaze softened. "Welcome back."

Caitlin gratefully nodded before he closed the door behind him, and watched his silhouette fade as he made his way to the stairs.

It wasn't until she couldn't distinguish him anymore that panic truly struck her.

What had just happened?

"Oh, my God," she muttered to herself, stressfully. "What was I thinking? What the hell was I thinking?"

Just like that, Caitlin had complicated an already complicated trip even more. It hadn't occurred to her that she would run into Barry within her first two hours in Central City. It hadn't even occurred to her that she would run into Barry at all! Catch up? For what? To tell him about her unrealistic goals? To reminisce their high school days? If that was the case, some things they never got to clarify were going to come up. What were they going to talk about that wasn't awkward? Their lab reports?

She had somehow made peace with the idea of turning Ralph's place into a hospitable environment again, but she didn't know how she felt about doing so while handling herself in front of her still-very-cute former classmate.

She fished out her phone from her pocket and called Ralph.

"Hey, what's up?" he greeted her, picking up almost immediately. "I'm still on the train, I had to take the 9 AM one. I guess you arrived already. I forgot to mention that my place might look a little…"

Caitlin's uneasiness was replaced with anger when she was reminded of the mess surrounding her. "Ralph, seriously, would it have killed you to clean the day before?" she scolded him. "I can't believe you let me find the place like this! You're such a…"

Her speech went on for over two minutes as she recited a long list of microorganisms he was probably farming in that apartment and lectured him on self and mutual respect.

"Feel better?" Ralph asked, and Caitlin could picture him shrinking in his seat.

"I thought you were robbed!" she repeated, hysterically. "I called the police!"

"I know, you just yelled that at me twice-"

"I spent the whole day yesterday cleaning my house for you!"

"I know, I know, and I am very sorry. I was out all-day running errands, plopped into my bed when I got home and fell asleep."

Caitlin drew in a breath. "Anyway." Her rant had given her enough time to think of a way of talking about her recent visitor more casually. "Barry Allen showed up with the police officer and told me that this is how your place usually looks like."

For some reason, Caitlin wanted to know more about Ralph's friendship with Barry without sounding too curious. As far as she remembered, those guys didn't even know each other in high school.

"Ugh, of course Saint Allen showed up," Ralph said, with disdain.

Caitlin blinked. "You're not a fan?" she asked, confused. "He made it sound like you two were pretty close now."

Ralph huffed. "Of course we are close. He is just… too good, you know? So good that I sometimes want to be terrible to him, so he goes out and finds better friends or something." He let out a sigh. "Wait a sec, is he there with you?"

"No, he left, but… he offered to help me clean up your apartment later."

"Do what now?"

"And cook lunch for the two of us."

Ralph chortled, sassily. "Oh, that's… so nice of him."

Caitlin was fully conscious of what she was doing and she hated herself for it, and she also dreaded the void of disappointment that came with Ralph's one-liners. What had she expected? That Barry had mentioned her to him? About something that had happened nine years ago?

"I… I shouldn't have accepted, though," she continued. "I feel like an idiot now. We haven't seen each other in nine years..."

"Didn't he take you to prom after you broke up with Hunter Zolomon?" Ralph wondered.

Caitlin's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, but we haven't been in contact or anything, it was a weird thing to agree to."

"Right."

Mid call was definitely a bad time to realize Ralph couldn't help her, because she had never told him about Barry. She had never told anyone about Barry, honestly. That whole thing had become her best kept secret. A night with a boy who never made it into conversations about love stories, because theirs had ended before even starting. A perfect memory, yet too painful to share or think about.

And she was just too proud to start now, especially since it sounded like these two had never talked about her at all.

"So, he offered to clean my apartment," Ralph repeated.

"So?" Caitlin exclaimed, recognizing a deductive note in his voice.

But he just chuckled in response. "Never mind."

"Ralph."

"Fine. Haven't you thought that, I don't know, he didn't think it was a weird thing to offer?"

"I mean, obviously, since he offered it."

"Yes, I know… but maybe it wasn't weird to him for some specific reason."

Caitlin arched her eyebrows and sat behind the same desk he had called her from two days before. "And that reason would be…?"

"I don't know, I'm just hypothesizing… maybe he remembers that night a little differently than you do?"

"How so?"

"Just… differently." Ralph laughed to himself. "Don't mind me, I guess I'm just trying to say… Barry is a good guy. He likes helping people, just let him."

The doctor suddenly felt way less overwhelmed about Barry's visit that afternoon. Ralph was right, maybe she was looking too much into it. Not for the reasons she made him believe she was, but it was still true. Barry had just found her in his buddy's apartment and felt the need to clean up his mess, quite literally.

He was just being Barry, just like she remembered him.

Seventeen-year-old Caitlin was hiding behind a big chemistry book, well aware of the group of sophomores giving her sporadic looks from the other side of the library. She had thought about leaving, but there was really no place to hide until the last period.

She then felt someone sitting next to her.

"Hey," Barry softly greeted, obviously in the know.

"It spread that quickly, huh?" Caitlin assumed, because she didn't recall seeing Barry among the people that witnessed her fight with Hunter in the middle of the hallway.

He left his bag on the table and sat sideways on the chair to face her, without an ounce of judgement on his face. "Are you okay?

Caitlin took a minute to think, just realizing she hadn't shed one tear since the incident. "Yeah, it's just…" - she side-eyed him, his smiling face providing her instant comfort - "he cheated on me, and somehow I'm the one who feels ashamed. I have always loved to go unnoticed, and now my last days of school will be filled with weird looks and rumors," she confessed.

Barry nodded, sympathetic. "I'm gonna kick his ass."

Caitlin bit her lip and put the book down. "Don't…"

But he shook his head, nonchalantly. "I can't, actually. He is a freaking giant. I was just trying to make you laugh."

And she did. Not because she thought he couldn't take Hunter, but because that's exactly how he made her laugh: when he wasn't trying. "Barry…"

"How about you think about the worst thing he could find in his locker? I'll put it there."

Caitlin gave him a leveled look, trying to hide her amusement. "How about" - she put the open chemistry book between them on the table - "you just sit here with me?"

Barry tilted his head and searched her eyes, a small smile forming on his lips. "I can just sit here with you."

Caitlin chuckled as he straightened himself up on his chair and started reading. She inadvertently let her head rest on his shoulder and looked down at the book, more concentrated on the fluttering sensation in her stomach than science.

"Definitely a good guy," Caitlin conceded, with a longing. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I have to go to the grocery store."

"You might want to get some bleach and dish soap," Ralph supplied.

The doctor took a deep breath to prevent herself from yelling a little more. "I have plenty of that in my kitchen so, please, keep my house clean."

"Cross my heart. For what is worth, I did clean the bathroom yesterday morning."

"Thank God. Bye."

"Bye."

Caitlin left her phone on the desk and, considering that piece of information Ralph had provided, headed to the bathroom to freshen up before going out.

Ralph sat back, rested his feet on the empty seat in front of him and started a new game of Sonic: The Hedgehog on his phone. He had just ended a call with his friend Caitlin, who had just comically run into a sort of old flame of hers, and he had almost given too much away. People could ask, why pretend not to know that two of your best friends made out nine years ago? What was the big deal, considering how many people usually made out for the first time on prom night?

Well, Ralph was sure that he was about to go over those reasons in a minute, because another phone call had just interrupted his game.

Barry Allen calling.

"Oh, for God's sake," he whined, taking the call. "Hey, buddy, what's up?"

"You scared me to death today," he said, in that raspy, serious and surprisingly manly voice of his.

"I heard."

"I didn't know you were out of town…"

Ralph wheezed. He was so dramatic. "Barry, I already told you that if I wanted a wife, I would get married."

"I got a call saying that your place was robbed."

"I know, Caitlin already yelled at me." His eyes widened mischievously at the memory of that recent call. "Which reminds me, one meet-cute and you guys already have a date?"

Ralph had to keep it together when he heard something similar to a choking noise coming out his friend's mouth. "Did she tell you that?"

"No, but that was fun." He covered his mouth with his hand, trying to compose himself. "She is completely oblivious to whatever you're trying to do."

"What are you talking about?"

"Barry…"

"I'm just helping."

"Dude, come on. I was there with you at the bar, remember? After Patty dumped you?"

"Not really…"

"I know you do."

Oh, there it was, that a night off duty replaying in Ralph's head.

Two years ago, Barry had abruptly gotten out of a two-year-old relationship and asked Ralph to meet him at a local bar. By the time he made it there, his friend was already horribly wasted. Of course, tucking Drunk Barry in bed was enough of a reason to have that night engraved in his memory, but the real shocker came when the poor thing cried himself to sleep over another girl. A girl who wasn't his recent ex-girlfriend. Ralph had already braced himself to hear about Patty for the next six months, so imagine his surprise when Barry confessed an old crush on his childhood friend, Caitlin Snow, and rambled on about the time he took her to prom, kissed her for the first (and the last) time on the dance floor, and then refrained from telling her how he really felt, because she would leave for college the next day.

Even though that was the only time Barry had ever mentioned her to him, Ralph started understanding his friend better after that night. Barry might have not provided that much information, but it seemed that experience had left him with some sort of sense of path-not-taken in the love department.

"Why do you keep bringing that up? I was drunk," Barry clapped back.

"And yet, you immediately knew what I was talking about," Ralph pointed out, humorously. "You remember what you told me, right?"

"Shut up."

"Dude, it's okay."

"What's okay?"

"Feeling whatever you are feeling." As much as Ralph hated sappy talk, he tried his best to sound understanding. "Even if it's been a while," he added.

"I don't know what I'm feeling."

"Let me help you: Why did you offer to help her and cook?"

"I just… I guess I had nothing else to do there and it just…came out."

Ralph smiled. "So, you just want to spend time with her?"

Barry swallowed. "God, she must think I'm a creep…"

"She doesn't, she was just slightly embarrassed that she accepted because… you know, it's my place and all," Ralph consoled him, not wanting to say that Caitlin had acted like they had barely known each other back in the day. Knowing her, she had probably lied about what that night meant to her, considering that her panic-call had been fairly similar to Barry's, but they both sounded so unsettled by their arrangement that maybe it was time to introduce a solution for this predicament. "You know? I could call my cleaning lady, leave you off the hook if you want…"

Barry groaned. "I…"

"If you want."

Ralph could almost hear the engines working inside his friend's brain.

"Oh, my God. You don't want me to," he mocked him, writhing in his seat. "You're still into her, aren't you?"

"I'm not, I haven't spoken to her in nearly a decade," Barry grumbled. "Who pines after someone for that long?"

"You, apparently." He heard him scoff. "Will I ever learn the whole story, though? You kinda left me hanging two years ago."

"It doesn't matter."

"So, should I call the cleaning lady?"

"No, no. I told her I would do it. Plus, I…" Barry sighed. "I kind of need to know."

"Know what?"

"I don't know yet."

Ralph facepalmed. "Good luck with that." He craned his neck to look through the window, realizing that the train had entered the station. "I gotta go. Good luck with everything. And I'm sorry."

"Bye, man."

"You know? If I had known ahead that Caitlin was all it took for you to clean my apartment, I would've invited her over sooner."

For the first time during that phone exchange, Barry laughed. "I hate you."

"I know. Bye."

Ralph put his phone back in his pocket, stretched up a bit and got out of his seat, feeling the excitement for a new case rushing through his veins, weirdly combined with an unfamiliar void in his stomach.

The void of knowing that nothing emotionally more interesting than what his friends were going through was ever going to happen to him.

So, I honestly don't remember how I came up with this, but it was inspired by my favorite rom-com, The Holiday. If you haven't seen it, I recommend it. In the movie, it's two girls from different countries that switch homes, but for the purposes of this story, I thought it would be more fun if it was Caitlin and Ralph. This is the first time I write Ralph into a fic and I am not quite sure of how the fandom in general feels about him but, for the purposes of this story, he seemed like the right fit. Don't worry, this fic will be mainly Snowbarry, but since I am very excited about Sue Dearbon on The Flash, I felt like writing a mini arc for Ralph and her (not to mention, The Holiday consists of two stories). Cisco will eventually show up, too!

It might not be necessary to explain, but you will learn more about "what happened in high school" with each chapter. That's another reason why I wanted other characters with close relationships to Barry and Caitlin, to be able to tell the story from different POVs and clarify how much information on a matter each character has. Also, future chapters will probably be longer!

Special thanks to my friend Ashley for helping me with my grammar. She also came up with the title of this story!

Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!