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"It's so hot. It's so hot I'm dying," Barry said. "I'm dying, Cait. I can't move. I think I'm slowly losing consciousness. Those are signs of dying, right?"
Caitlin rolled her eyes. Normally she didn't like him making jokes like that—they'd been proven real way too many times—but right now, it was hard to take him seriously. After all, Barry was currently sprawled on the floor of the Cortex, pressing his cheek to the cool marble tile like it would save his life.
She couldn't fault him for feeling that way, though. Not only did his body temperature run higher than normal, but he also ate and burned more calories than the average human being did, so hot summer days like this were difficult for him. Add that to the fact that there was currently no air-conditioning (it broke down that morning) and he was practically incapacitated. Although not to the point of death, as he'd just claimed. That wasn't his physiology—that was just him being dramatic.
"Since you're still whining loudly," she said dryly, "I doubt you're losing consciousness."
He pouted. "I'll whine more softly, then." And then, in a strangled whisper, "It's so hot I'm dying… Save me, Dr. Snow…"
"Since you can still modulate the pitch of your voice," she said with a hint of amusement, "I'd say you're very much alive."
"I'm wounded." His voice returned to its normal pitch. "You're not taking me seriously at all, Dr. Snow. Has anyone ever told you that your bedside manner needs work?"
"Someone has, but he whines about everything, so I don't take it personally."
"Okay, wait, just to be clear—I'm not really whining, per se. I'm just stating my opinion on the weather."
"You have too many opinions on the weather."
"Just one, in fact, but I do have another opinion on how you can change that one opinion on it."
She raised a brow. "Let me get this straight: You have opinion on your opinion."
"Why, yes I do." He lifted his head to face her, flashing her a devious grin. "Very meta of me, huh?"
Caitlin groaned.
"Admit it. You walked right into that one."
"I'm busy, Barry."
"No, you're not. You stopped typing for the past ten minutes."
She gave him a look and pointedly resumed typing.
"No, wait, hear me out first," he pleaded, raising himself to his forearms. "This is an emergency, Cait. You need to help me."
She sighed. "In my opinion, Mr. Allen, you're perfectly capable of helping yourself," she said. "With your speed, it'll only take you thirty minutes to learn everything about air-cons, and probably ten to fix ours."
"I'm flattered you think so highly of my abilities," he said, "but that means I have to get up, which means I have to expend energy, which produces more heat. And we've already established that this heat could be a possible cause of my death." He gave another dramatic sigh. "Please, Cait. If you hear me out, I'll never make puns ever again."
"Ever again? Really."
He paused. "Fine. That was a bit of an exaggeration. I won't make puns for a day."
"No."
"Okay, maybe just for the next hour—"
"I mean, no, I won't do what you're thinking."
"How do you know what I'm thinking? Last I checked, you don't have mind-reading abilities."
"I have Barry-reading abilities. I know what you're going to say, and my answer is no." She gave him a look. "Why don't you go to Jitters instead? Cisco's already there."
"I can't," he said. "I'm bound here by my love for you. Ah, woe is me."
"Did you know that the heat makes you dramatic?"
"Did you know that my being dramatic always makes you smile?" he countered.
"I'm not smiling."
Barry grinned at her. "Sure, Cait. Sure."
"Just go to Jitters already," she said, with a small not-smile on her face.
"I'm not leaving if you aren't."
"I can't work from Jitters. All my files are on this computer."
"Well, if I'm dying before your eyes, you won't be able to work here either."
"Are you trying to blackmail me?"
"Merely stating an opinion, Dr. Snow."
"I'm starting to dislike your opinions."
"You still like me, though."
"Right now, just barely."
"Fine, but you still love me. I can see it in your eyes."
"This is a glare, if you haven't noticed."
"From this angle," he said, making a vague gesture at his prone form, "I think it's a look of love."
"I really should've just hired someone to fix it," she muttered.
"You did say we don't have the budget for it yet," Barry said. "Not until that grant you applied for pushes through next month."
It was true. Ever since S.T.A.R. Labs fell into disrepute, it was almost impossible to obtain funds, and even if the museum was bringing in money, it was barely enough to cover the utility bills, let alone the repairs. Caitlin didn't know what exactly happened to the air-con, but according to their janitor, it would take a whopping five hundred dollars to have it fixed.
She sighed and absently wiped the sweat from her forehead and her neck with a handkerchief.
Barry propped himself up on his elbow and grinned. "You're considering it, aren't you?"
"No."
"You must be feeling hot and bothered, too," he said. "And for once, it's not because of me."
She looked skyward. "Barry," she said, "I won't do it."
"Why not?" he said. For the first time since the start of their conversation, he got to his feet and flashed beside her. "Think about it. It's good practice for your powers, since you have to slowly lower the temperature degree by degree. It's also cost-effective—we probably won't have to pay for air-con ever again. That's one less expense for us to worry about."
"That's precisely what I'm worried about. If I do this, you and Cisco'll get me to keep doing it, and I refuse to be your personal air-conditioner."
"Hey, you get me to do all the spring cleaning because of my speed," he pointed out, "and we get Cisco to vibe the release dates of movies and series all the time."
"That's… different."
"Come on, Cait," he wheedled, "you're not a real superhero until you use your powers to do the boring ordinary stuff."
"Says who?"
"Says the man who happens to be one of Central City's seasoned superheroes."
"Given that I'm also one of the city's seasoned superheroes, I don't think I have to listen to this man."
He sighed. "Fine. You leave me no choice, Dr. Snow. If you don't do it, I'll"—he towered over her—"hug you until you do."
Despite herself, her lips curled into a smile. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"
He grinned, pulled her to her feet, and quickly engulfed her in a bear-hug. She let out a whoosh of air. "Yes. I'm sweaty and smelly and my body temperature's a few degrees higher than yours. I'll wear you down by smelliness and body heat."
She wrinkled her nose. He did smell like sweat, and he was burning like he had a fever. "Ugh. You need a shower."
"No, I just need to stop sweating, which'll likely happen if you suck the heat from the room."
She sighed. "Sometimes, I don't know what to do with you."
"That's fine. I, for one, have a lot of ideas on what you can do with me."
She bit back a smile. "I see what you're doing here, Mr. Allen. You're trying to wear me down with hugs and jokes. It won't work."
"Darn it. There goes my nefarious plan," he said. "Maybe I should add kisses, too, for good measure." To accentuate his point, he pressed a kiss to a sensitive spot on her neck that had her arching into him.
"Alright, alright," she finally said, pulling away. "But first, swear to me you won't tell anyone about this."
He gave her an innocent look. "Okay."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Swear it, Barry."
"Why?" he teased. "Worried you'd ruin your fearsome reputation as Frost if this comes out?"
She sniffed. "Most villains are more afraid of me than the Flash and Vibe combined, you know."
"Ah, so that's it," Barry said, grinning. "You're afraid you'll be exposed as nothing more than a glorified air-conditioner."
She swatted him on the arm. "Swear it, Barry," she said with mock-sternness. "I need to preserve my reputation as a menacing ice queen for the sake of the city."
"Fine, fine," he laughed. "I swear it."
She gave him an assessing look.
He returned it with a boyish smile.
She rolled her eyes affectionately and finally gave in. Even if she pretended that she could, they both knew that it was impossible for her to resist him.
Caitlin took a step back and closed her eyes. It sounded mundane, lowering the temperature of the room, but in truth it was more challenging than conjuring an icicle. With conjuring weapons, she didn't need to hold herself back—all she had to do was concentrate on a specific area and abruptly draw all the heat out of that area. In this case, though, the surface area was larger, and she had to rein her power in and lower the temperature gradually, or she'd turn the entire room into ice.
It took her a few minutes to accomplish a room temperature of around seventy degrees. When she opened her eyes again, Barry was beaming at her.
"Satisfied, Mr. Allen?" she said. Her body practically hummed in relief at having the cool air swirl around her, but she'd never admit it to him.
"It's still not cold enough for me," he said casually, taking a lock of her white hair in his fingers.
"No?" she said. "I've saved you from certain death, and you're still not satisfied?"
"The cold won't save me, after all," he said, smiling. "You know what will?"
Caitlin hid her smile and lightly placed a hand on his chest. "Well, spit it out, Mr. Allen. Playing coy doesn't suit you."
"There's nothing coy about this," he murmured, before leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss.
He was right—there was nothing coy about it, and in a few moments Caitlin found herself perched on the far end of the table, her legs around his waist, while Barry's hands were snaking up her thigh and pulling lightly on her hair until she tilted her head back to let him leave kisses on her neck.
"Barry, we shouldn't—ah—not here—"
"Yes here," he said, smiling into her skin. "Don't worry, we'll make it quick."
"Are you… Mmm…" The heat coming off him was heady and intoxicating, but she'd since learned when to put a cap on her powers whenever she was with him. She did take a little of his heat, though, just enough to take away his discomfort. "Are you rushing me?"
"What, would you rather I tease you?" he said, his voice a low rumble. She gripped his shoulders when his hand found the edge of her underwear, but, instead of slipping a finger inside, he traced the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "I can do that, too. I can do that all day."
"Barry…"
She tried to pull him closer by digging her heels into his lower back, but he refused to budge. He gave her an infuriating smirk. "Well, Cait? What'll it be?"
"Dammit, Barry, just—"
But before Caitlin could finish her sentence, a voice sliced through the atmosphere of the Cortex.
"H—aw, geez, guys!"
They both quickly jumped apart from each other, and in turn Cisco quickly whirled around when he saw them. "Really, guys? Really?"
"Cisco!" Caitlin breathed. She struggled to fix her dress, while Barry faced the wall to hide the tented front of his pants from view. "We thought you'd—uh, be in Jitters?"
"Oh my god," he said, horrified. He faced them now. "Is 'Hey Cisco, you should go to Jitters' actually code for 'Let's have sex in the Cortex'?"
"No!" they said quickly.
"It is," Cisco said faintly. "Excuse me while I bleach my eyes…"
"Oh, come on," Caitlin said. Her heart rate had finally returned to normal, and a semblance of rational thinking returned. "We've never had sex here."
"Yeah, Caitlin's too professional for that," Barry added. "Everything leading up to it, though…"
Caitlin swatted him on the arm, and Cisco groaned again. "Guys, seriously, I love you, but you make me want to barf sometimes."
"As if you and Cynthia haven't already done it here," Caitlin countered.
"No! Of course not!" Cisco huffed, before amending it cheekily with, "Everything leading up to it, though…"
"Okay, this conversation's going to make me barf," Barry said, finally turning to face him. "Can we just agree to never talk about it again?"
"We need to make an official rule," Caitlin said. "No sex in the Cortex or something."
"But Cynthia likes it here," Cisco said. "She gets unbelievably turned on when—"
"Okay, stop," Caitlin said hastily. "Let's just pretend this conversation never happened."
"Right, and keep having not-sex in the Cortex with our significant others," Cisco said.
"Sounds about right," Barry said.
"Okay." Cisco put his backpack down on a chair. "So… Um. Er."
A pause.
"I got nothing, guys. Help me un-awkward this conversation."
Barry and Caitlin exchanged looks, and Caitlin sighed. "How was Jitters?" she offered lamely.
"Oh, yeah," Cisco said, snapping his fingers. "I came back 'cause I needed a file…" He blinked. "Wait, is it just me, or did it get colder here? Did someone fix the air-con?"
Barry grinned. "No, we got a new one."
"We got a new…" His gaze immediately landed on Caitlin. He took in her changed appearance and grinned. "Ohoho—"
"You swore not to tell anyone," Caitlin said, shooting her boyfriend a murderous look.
"Technically, I didn't," Barry said innocently. "I just mentioned that we got a new air-con."
"Wait, guys, wait—I think I'm getting a vibe," Cisco said. "I'm getting a vibe where… Caitlin goes to my apartment every day for the rest of the summer… to save me from my electricity bill."
"And you just so happened to vibe that now."
"What can I say? I can't control what vibes come to me."
Caitlin let out a long-suffering sigh. "I don't even know why I'm still a part of this team."
"That's a yes," Cisco stage-whispered to Barry. "That's totally a yes."
"Naw, Cait won't give in so easily."
She gave him a level look, and then she said to Cisco, "Fine."
"Fine?!" Barry squawked, while Cisco whooped, "Yeah! Free air-con!"
"Hey, that's unfair. It took me weeks to convince you, and you say yes to him just like that?"
"Consider it punishment for telling on me," Caitlin sniffed.
"Also, bros before hoes," Cisco said piously. "Right, Cait?"
"I'm your bro, too," Barry said.
"Well, Cait was my bro first," Cisco said, "so you're the hoe in this equation. Also, we both know we're more hoe than Cait will ever be."
"Should I be flattered by that?" Caitlin said blandly.
"Dude," Barry said to Cisco, "if anyone's a hoe here, it's you. I'm practically chaste next to you." And then, to her, he said, "Right, Cait? I've never displayed any hoe-ish tendencies, have I?"
"Whipped," Cisco coughed.
"Oh, don't even get me started on you and Cynthia."
"Ah, ah. Unlike you, my dear friend, I embrace my whippedness," he said. "In fact, I make love to my whippedness. There's just something about a girl in leathers that—"
"You know, this is another one of those conversations that should never see the light of day—"
Caitlin smiled as she watched their antics. She could play stern all she wanted, but the truth was that there was no other team she'd rather be a part of, and she could never refuse these two boys anything.
That didn't mean she couldn't withhold information from them, though. In reality, without her presence in the room, the cold won't last for more than twenty minutes. She was about to hint at it, but it was really much more fun to watch them bicker…
Oh well. They'll find out sooner or later, anyway.