Caitlin sipped a creamy coffee while Harry took his dark.  Caitlin snuck her hand under his.  Harry’s gaze flew from his folder to her eyes, and he smiled as he clasped her hand, his firm thumb rolling over her elegant fingers.  She smiled back, both of them savoring this blissful moment, the quiet between them filled by the chatter of Jitters’ other patrons and staff.

Chatter became screams.

Jitters was aflame when Harry came to.  He couldn’t find Caitlin anywhere amongst the debris and the smoke.

“Cai—” a cough tore through his lungs. “Caitlin!”

“Harry? Harry, why didn’t you stay out there!?”

“Because you’re in here!” Harry followed the trail of melting snow to her.  She was fighting a losing battle against the flames. “Caitlin, we need to leave!”

“There’s still people in here!” she said, breathing hard with her body caked in sweat.

Harry followed her gaze. Sure enough, there were a couple college students trapped under a beam.  The young man was trying to get his sister out from underneath it, but he wasn’t strong enough to lift it off her—not until Harry helped.

More debris collapsed in front of the main entrance, so Caitlin led them out the back, keeping the fire at bay with her powers.  They were all hacking and heaving by the time they escaped.

“Caitlin?” Harry felt her leaning on him.  She passed out from heat exhaustion. “Caitlin!”

Harry wouldn’t leave her side once he rushed her to STAR Labs.  Her vitals beeped slowly on the monitors.  Harry held her hand, closer to tears than he’d come in years, “We’re not done, Caitlin.  Don’t give up—please don’t give up!”

“...You could... act in a movie... with how dramatic you are...” she smiled, eyes too weak to open past half-lidded. “And can you stop squeezing my hand?  That’d be great.”

Walking back into S.T.A.R. Labs the next morning as if nothing had gone on had taken a degree of courage that Caitlin hadn't been sure she possessed. But she did it, ready to face the Reverse-Flash-in-Harrison-Wells'-clothing and to... What? Was she going to confront him in front of Barry and Cisco? Was she going to walk around the wheelchair she now knew he didn't need and try to pretend like nothing had happened?

So it was rather anticlimactic when she entered the Cortex and he wasn't there.

"There she is, my girl who's out socializing and everything! Let's hear about that date!"

Cisco came in behind her, grinning broadly.

"Sorry," she said, trying to school her expression. "Turns out it was a no-go."

"You got stood up?" he said, the grin quickly downgrading to a frown. "Give me his name and I'll ruin his credit."

That made her smile, even as she said, "Now, didn't we talk about this before? No credit ruining."

He scoffed. "You're no fun!" Then his tone and demeanor grew more sincere. "Are you okay, though?"

She gave a half-shrug. "Yeah, I wasn't really into him, anyway. I think it's for the best."

He patted her shoulder as he headed over to his computer.

"So," she said, in what was probably the worst attempt at a casual tone ever, "is Dr. Wells already here?"

"Nope," he said, dropping into his chair. "He called earlier, said he's got business out of town. Should be back in a few days, maybe a week."

Run, Reverse Flash, run, she thought sarcastically. Well, while he's avoiding confrontation in his life, we'll be here saving Central City from evildoers!

***

Several hours later, she rested her elbows on her desk and sighed out loud. "I can't believe not even one evildoer showed up today," she muttered.

"Slow day, hm?" Barry said sympathetically. "Might as well head out early then, what do you think?"

The notion of sitting at home, twiddling her thumbs, was about as appealing as watching the proverbial paint dry.

"Sounds great," she said, struggling to sound a proper degree of enthusiastic without going overboard.

***

The next few days were maddeningly similar. Perhaps the most frustrating part was that Harrison called in and spoke with Cisco or Barry a few times, all when she wasn't there. How he managed to time his calls so perfectly, she wasn't sure, but it didn't take long to get on her nerves.

I should've talked to him when I had the chance, she thought, walking home from the local store with a bag of groceries in hand. I guess I didn't realize I'd feel--

A hard strike between her shoulder blades sent her crashing painfully to her knees on the cement. Her grocery bag was yanked partially from her hand before it split and rained her groceries onto the sidewalk.

The distinctive sound of a speedster arriving made the rather vengeful thought of Now you'll be sorry! pop to mind.

"Hey, are you all right?"

She looked up, pushing her hair from her face, and found Barry in his Flash suit looking down at her in concern. He had a tall man restrained with his hands behind his back.

"Yeah," she said, her voice a little shaky. "I'm not hurt."

Barry nodded and sped off with his captive, then returned alone a few seconds later, helping her to stand.

"What happened?" he asked, gathering up her produce at super-speed into the new bag he'd brought to replace the torn one.

"I don't know," she said, taking the bag back when he offered it. "I guess I wasn't paying attention. I didn't realize he was behind me. Thanks."

"Sure. Let me run you home," he said, holding his arms out in an offer to pick her up.

"That's not necessary," she demurred. "It's not far."

"Come on, Cait," he urged. "It's the least I can do. I want to make sure you get home safe."

She finally agreed. He swept her up and deposited her on her doorstep in a matter of moments.

"Thanks," she told him again, giving a final wave before he sped away. She locked the door behind herself and turned--

--to find Harrison standing not three feet behind her, in his Reverse Flash suit with the mask pushed back.

"Are you okay?" he asked at the same time as she barely managed to crush a shrill scream down to a squeak. Her groceries once again hit the ground.

"How did you get in here?" she finally asked. "No, wait, don't tell me. It was 'speedster magic,' right?"

His only response was to blur away and, in a blink, her bag of groceries was off the floor and presumably put in the kitchen since the light was now on when he returned. "Caitlin, you were mugged. Are you okay? If something would've happened to you, I... I don't know what I would've done."

Anxiety radiated from him in palatable waves. It was so unlike anything she'd ever witnessed from him in either of his guises that, for a moment, all she could do was just stare at him.

He stepped closer, leaning down to be more on her level, his hands coming up as if to rest on her shoulders. At the last moment, they paused, hovering uncertainly in mid-air. "Caitlin?"

"I really wasn't mugged," she finally said. "He just knocked me down but Barry got there before he stole anything."

After the fact, she realized she didn't censor the name she normally would have. Harrison waved it away as if she'd said that part aloud.

"I'm glad he was there," he said, surprisingly genuine. "I want you kept safe."

His hands finally turned over, palms up, in a mute request and she placed hers in his before she even thought about it. He sighed, like he hadn't dared to hope for even that much.

"Can we talk?" he asked, just as her coffee maker chimed. "I, um, made coffee. Obviously."

***

It took a little while to get used to sitting at her kitchen table, drinking coffee with a man who looked like the friend and mentor she'd known for years but who talked more like the villain who'd been coming to her rescue for a while now.

"What do you want me to call you?" she asked after she'd tripped over the issue a few times and decided it was better to just ask.

He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. "'Harrison' or 'Eobard,' either is fine."

Neither felt entirely natural. She just nodded.

They had already covered the worst of his deeds, such as the murders of Nora Allen and the original Harrison Wells: he'd spoke of them in a tone tinged with regret that also indicated he wasn't expecting forgiveness.

He had told her about his grudge against Barry in the future, though had omitted the actual details, had told her how he'd gotten trapped in the past. How every plan he'd come up with to get back to his own time had resulted in failure, then how he'd finally been forced to accept his fate.

There was still so much more to talk about than what could be covered in one night. Caitlin stifled a yawn, noticing the sun peeking around the curtains in her kitchen window.

"You need to get some sleep," he said softly, pushing away from the table. "And I know you've got a lot to think about."

She stood as well, oddly loathe for him to leave as she walked him to the front door. "Are you going to disappear on your 'business trip' again? Or are you coming back to work?"

He paused, looking down at the sleeve of his yellow suit as he straightened it while he spoke. "Do you want me to?"

She took a deep breath, considering her reply. For their entire conversation, she'd been testing out her feelings. Everything he'd told her had given her more of an understanding for his actions but nothing could make those actions acceptable.

She must've paused overly long because he said, "I know you, Caitlin. You're not just going to be okay with all of this."

"No," she agreed. "I'm not. And you could do wonderful, philanthropic things every day for the rest of your life and that won't erase the terrible things you've done."

He nodded, head down. "Yes, I understand if you don't--"

"But," she said, speaking over him, "if you do good things from here on out, it means something to me."

He thought about that for a moment, then said, "You haven't told Barry and Cisco. I'm pretty sure one of them would've mentioned that if you had, anyway. Are you going to?"

"I don't know," she said honestly.

"Fair enough," he said, then spread his hands awkwardly. "Thanks. I... I would like to come back."

"Why?" she asked, crossing her arms, tilting her head curiously.

"At the beginning, stopping crime, helping people, it was a means to an end," he admitted. "But somewhere along the way, I guess I fell in love with you -- with all of you."

She felt her cheeks burn even as he corrected himself.

"Once I knew I couldn't go back to my own time again, I knew I'd have to find a way to make a life here. I'm a pretty good criminal myself," he admitted, showing a hint of the roguish attitude she'd come to be familiar with from the man in the yellow suit. "But stopping other criminals became strangely satisfying as well."

"Bad habit," she murmured and he smiled at their shared joke.

"Bad habit," he agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Well, later today, technically."

"Goodbye," she said with a soft, crooked smile.

He pulled his mask on and was gone in a sharp gust of air.

She didn't realize until later that he hadn't actually put up her battered groceries, he'd replaced everything with unblemished duplicates.

I believe that's cheating, she thought and couldn't help but laugh.

***

Caitlin paused outside of the Cortex, hearing Cisco and Barry mock-arguing over some technical minutia, then a familiar voice dryly correcting them both. Her heart pounded as if she'd downed 10 cups of coffee instead of just one. Despite the lack of sleep, she felt wide-awake and buzzed, driven by nervous uncertainty. This was it, this was the moment when she had to truly decide: who was she throwing her lot in with? Did she keep the Reverse Flash's secret or come clean with her friends? Didn't Barry especially deserve to know?

It felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff of infinite height, the bottom of which was concealed in smoke and darkness. She walked into the Cortex, looked at Cisco who was laughing, looked at Barry's innocent face, then looked at the man in the wheelchair she knew he didn't need.

She made her choice.