"We were… busy?"

Barry turned from his study of the image dominating the wall to see one shoulder rising in that sheepish way, nose wrinkling slightly as one corner of her mouth went up in a half-grimace/half-smile.

He took an extra moment to consider that. He knew her well enough to know the subtleties of her body language—when a shrug was sheepish and not dismissive, to know that she had a habit of sweeping one side of her hair back while allowing the other to fall forward—a curtain behind which she could hide. He knew that when nervous or thinking a problem through, she still had the habit of rubbing the third finger of her left hand, as if twisting the ring that had once lived there.

One thing he didn't know—when, exactly, had she stopped wearing it?

A question for another time. Maybe a question that didn't even matter. Not in the light of all the other questions he had.

"Yeah, we've been busy, but so busy you couldn't tell me—" His voice trailed off as he gestured helplessly at the screen behind him.

"Barry, it wasn't even you."

He snorted. "Yeah, I'd like to think I wouldn't forget something like accosting one of my best friends. Although—" Now he risked a glance back over his shoulder to the image dominating the wall. He knew the exact moment at which Gideon had chosen to pause it—their second kiss, Caitlin relaxing into his hold and most assuredly kissing him back.

Kissing Everyman back, he reminded himself, steeling himself against the bitterness that swept through him. He would have thought as many times as he'd watched the damned clip, he'd have become numb to it, but no such luck. If anything, it was worse.

"It does explain why you slapped the crap out of me."

"Barry…" She extended her hands, palms up, as if beseeching him to understand and he did. All too well.

"No, Caitlin…I get it. I just wish you'd—"

"No, Barry, you don't get it."

He jerked as she cut him off and took a wary step back as she began advancing.

"You don't get it because you can't possibly understand how I was feeling or what I was thinking."

"Caitlin—" It was his turn to hold his hands up, even as he kept stepping back until the wall stopped his progress. The feel of the textured wall poking his back jolted him as effectively as if he'd been touched by a live wire, prompting him to lean in just as Caitlin closed the final step between them.

"How much do you really have to tell me?" he snapped as yet another wave of irrational anger swept through him. "I saw it. I saw how you jerked away—how relieved you looked when Iris showed up."

"Oh you think you know everything do you?" Unmistakable anger laced her voice in turn as she leaned in and poked his chest, sending more of those live wire jolts going through him. "How about it took me completely by surprise? How about I was too embarrassed to tell you how strongly I reacted to kissing someone who's in love with someone else? And then to realize it wasn't even you? How was I supposed to tell you any of this? How was I supposed to even explain it?"

At some point during her tirade he'd captured the hand poking him in one of his. As her voice trailed off, he could feel her vibrating with the force of her emotions, eyes bright and suspiciously shiny as they glared up at him.

"How—" His voice caught in his throat, prompting him to clear it and try again. Softer, he said, "How did you react?"

"God, Barry—" She tried to pull her hand free, but he tightened his grip, absorbing her increasing agitation. "You can see for yourself!" She waved her free hand wildly at the giant image on the screen.

"I have seen," he said, as he alternated staring down at their hands and into her eyes. "I've seen it over and over but no matter how many times I see it, I still don't know—" Once again his voice faltered.

After a long pause, she very quietly asked, "Know what?"

He thought he could face her and ask this. Thought that, after as much as they'd been through together—as many times as he'd watched the video and studied every nuance of every expression that had crossed her face—that he could look her in the eye and ask the question that had burned a hole in his chest from the first moment he'd seen the imposter spinning Caitlin into his arms and kissing her as if his life depended on it.

Well…he supposed it had.

Maybe it still did.

Ever so gently and slowly, he turned her so her back was to his chest, both of them facing the image that Gideon, as if somehow sensing that larger than life wasn't necessary in this moment, had shrunk down to something far less intimidating—and far more intimate.

"I've watched this dozens of times, Caitlin." As if on cue it began playing again, the sound muted. "Over and over I've watched it. I've seen your shock and your discomfort and yeah, I even saw how you kissed me back, but the one thing I don't know is—" he took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his heart beat, "how did you feel?"

She remained silent, not that he'd really expected an answer. Frankly, he'd half expected that she'd slap him again and pretty much, rightly so. She hadn't wanted to bring it up—that much was clear. She'd been embarrassed—also clear. And really, he should have been grateful she wanted to avoid making a thing about this. She'd spared him what she thought was discomfort. Had kept things between them steady and normal—outside of slapping him, of course. She had done what she always did—taken care of him.

"It doesn't matter, Barry."

"It should."

"No, it shouldn't."

And he knew, the way he somehow always knew with her, what she was saying with what she wasn't saying.

"It's not written in stone, Caitlin."

"It's what you've always wanted."

"And we can't change our minds about what we want?"

"Of course we can, but…it's important to your future."

"Yeah, but—" He considered his next words carefully. "Who's to say changing my mind wouldn't change my future for the better?"

"But what if it's for worse?"

He stifled a chuckle as warmth coursed through his body. She just wouldn't be Caitlin if she didn't argue. If she didn't force him to defend his position. Her sigh was clearly exasperated, but at the same time relaxed her enough to have her leaning against his chest. His arms rose, almost of their own volition and circled her waist, loose enough she could easily break free if she felt he was taking too many liberties. She didn't break free. Rather, she sighed and relaxed further into him, her hair teasing the underside of his chin. Tentatively, he lowered his head the rest of the way, resting it lightly on hers.

"That's kind of a risk we take with every choice we make, isn't it?"

"But Barry…"

"And don't tell me about Wells knowing the future, Caitlin—" he broke in. "No matter how much he knows, he can't possibly know me as well as he thinks he does. There's just no damned way he can know what's in my heart."

That fine trembling began taking over her body once more, prompting him to tighten his hold. "But it's been Iris for so long."

"It has," he agreed easily. "But maybe it's time for it not to be."

"How can you say that, especially after seeing that byline?"

"Because—" Almost without thinking, he turned his head just enough to rub his cheek against her hair. "I can't think of any other reason why seeing you kissing someone who looked like me but wasn't me pissed me off more than I've ever been pissed off in my life while seeing that byline just left me feeling confused and…kinda empty."

His heart stuttered a bit as he felt her relax into his hold just a tiny bit more. He wasn't even certain she was aware she was doing it, but you know, he wasn't going to argue.

One more the video froze in the same place it had been when she first walked in—eyes closed, hands relaxed, and clearly relaxing into the kiss.

Very softly he asked, "How did you feel, Caitlin?"

Once again she remained silent and he felt his heart stop. Honest to God, screeching halt, stop.

And then jump start into a rapid-fire rhythm that rivaled the fastest he'd ever run as she smoothly turned in his arms and drew his head down.

"Like this," she whispered an instant before her mouth touched his.

This time it was his turn to jerk in surprise—if only because holy mother, it felt even better than anything he'd ever imagined. And he had imagined it. More than he'd even realized until this moment. Changing the angle of his head slightly, he deepened the kiss, silently asking and sighing as she answered, opening her mouth to his, her tongue stroking his while her teeth gently sank into his lower lip, making him groan and hold her tighter still.

"This is insane," she gasped when they finally came up for air.

He laughed. "What about our lives isn't?" He buried his head in her neck, breathing in the scent of her and feeling, for the first time since his suspicions about Wells had reared their ugly heads, as if everything just might be okay. No matter what happened—they'd be okay.

For a long, long time.

And he felt absolutely no need to ask Gideon to show him the future.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…"

Caitlin looked past the minister to find Barry's gaze steadily fixed on her, the small smile that never failed to send a shiver down her spine curving his mouth.

"Behave. We're in a church," she mouthed, fighting a smile of her own.

"Can't help it—you're hot," he mouthed back, his eyes brilliant green with mischief.

A subtle throat clearing captured her attention, making her glance toward the front pew where Felicity sat, shaking her head, a reproachful eyebrow raised followed by an eloquent roll of her eyes as Barry's grin grew wider and he shrugged, clearly unrepentant.

Despite how happy she was and dear God, was she happy—happier than she'd ever been—she nevertheless still worried that they were all out of their minds, taking the time for weddings when madness still ruled their worlds and each day brought with it a new battle. But surprisingly, it was Joe who insisted—saying if not now, then when? And if they had the opportunity to grasp happiness—and with it, the power to change the future—then they needed to do it.

Caitlin had never seen any two people happier than Eddie and Iris in that moment. Other than maybe her and Barry when he'd asked her to marry him and she'd said yes.

Now she could only pray he would behave better when their wedding rolled around in a few months' time, but she had a feeling he'd only be more irrepressible.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

In a room not far from the church, a wall glowed, the front page of the April 25, 2024 Central City Citizen flickering to life.

Reverse Flash Disappears

Flash Vows to Keep Searching

Iris West-Thawne