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“So let me get this straight,” Iris said, and Caitlin let herself drop into a chair. Her injuries were all taken care of, but Iris had dragged her into the med bay again, probably to reprimand her. It was fine. God knew Caitlin deserved it. “That woman you had a thing with. The one from the charity gala. Is Amunet Black. Amunet Black, major crime lord who sells drugs and has ties to the mob and is involved in human trafficking. And who just tried to kill us. Did I forget anything?”
Caitlin pressed her hand to her forehead. Her head was still throbbing from getting punched with Amunet’s alnico metal glove. Stupid.
“It wasn’t really a thing.”
Iris snorted. “Really? That’s the part you’re focusing on?”
With a sigh, Caitlin met her eyes. Having been found out was humiliating, but it was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying around for months.
“I’m surprised you didn’t mention it earlier, with the others,” Caitlin mumbled. She regretted saying it instantly when she noticed the hurt look on Iris’s face.
“It’s not my secret to tell, is it?” Iris leaned against one of the lab tables on the other side of the room. “But honestly, Caitlin, you knew who she was, back then. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Evidently,” Iris said under her breath.
Caitlin dropped her gaze to the floor. She’d fucked up big time, she knew that. If she were Iris, she wouldn’t even make the effort to talk to her. “Look, I understand if… if you think I’m putting the team in jeopardy and that I should leave. I can go get my stuff right now.”
Iris was silent for so long that Caitlin lifted her head again to look at her. She was just standing there shaking her head like Caitlin was being obtuse.
“You’re gonna need the team now more than ever, and I’m not gonna stand in the way of that. I’m just worried about you, Cait. I don’t want you to get hurt, again, and believe it or not, I really don’t want you to leave. ‘Cause we need you, too.”
That took a moment to sink in. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Iris gave her a miniscule smile and straightened up, brushing non-existent lint off her pants. “C’mon, we should go back in. The others are probably wondering where we are.”
Caitlin nodded and let Iris go ahead. She just needed a moment alone to collect herself. Even though the last time she’d seen Amunet—the night at the gala—hadn’t ended too well, she hadn’t expected her to actually try and kill her. Multiple times. She’d thought they’d reached some kind of understanding, but well… Apparently that’d just been in her head.
She wasn’t going to make that mistake twice. Back to square one, then.
When Amunet told Caitlin about how remarkable of a person she was in a run-down clinic to make her operate on Dominic, she almost believed her.
It had been a live-or-death situation, but once the adrenaline had worn off and she was back in her apartment, on her own without anybody to judge her, she realized how close she’d gotten—once again—to just give in and throw herself at that awful woman. Beg her to do anything to make her feel alive. To let her touch her again just once.
Right before she’d almost gotten killed by her for the gazillionth time.
What was it about Amunet that never failed to turn her brain to goo? It was pathetic. At least she’d managed to get herself and Dominic out of the hospital without Frost’s help. And she was so grateful for her friends, that they saved her, but some twisted part of her brain wondered what would’ve happened if Amunet had seriously hurt her. If one of those metal shards had hit her. Would Amunet care if she died?
Did she even care at all?
Caitlin took a deep breath and made a beeline for the bathroom, eager to scrub the day off her skin. Her clothes were off quickly, and she shivered slightly in the cool air of her bathroom before stepping into the shower to turn it on.
The hot water felt perfect on her back after the day she’d had.
After washing her hair it didn’t even occur to her to not lean forward and brace herself against the cold tiles, letting her hand drift between her thighs, breath hitching, quiet moans echoing off the shower walls.
She didn’t try not to think of Amunet. It wouldn’t work anyway.
Amunet called Caitlin my darling in front of her friends.
Caitlin’s cheeks were still burning—she was well aware that she hadn’t been able to keep a cheesy smile off her face, that she probably looked more like a lovesick puppy than someone who’d just had to convince a ruthless villain to help save humanity.
Thankfully, nobody had commented on it after Amunet had glided out of that warehouse in a storm of metal shards. They all seemed to be preoccupied with more pressing things, such as stopping DeVoe. Joe was right; Caitlin had been so fixated on getting Killer Frost back that saving the world had not been her priority anymore.
When she came back to S.T.A.R. Labs from coffee with Joe at Jitters, Iris was waiting for her in the cortex. She’d been working on something on her laptop but closed it as soon as she heard Caitlin come in and turned around in her chair to smile at her. Caitlin frowned and put her bag down to take off her jacket.
“What’s up? Thought you’d be home by now,” she said and sat down next to her with a sigh. Suddenly, she noticed how exhausting their day had been. How exhausted she was. The looming possibility of DeVoe succeeding didn’t help, either.
“Well…” Iris shrugged and pressed her lips together in a way that told Caitlin that she was trying not to smirk. “I just wanted to know how you were. Heard you practically wrapped Amunet around your finger.”
Oh, that’s what this was about. Caitlin sighed again and shook her head.
“That’s overstating things. She just agreed to help us in the first place because she knew we’d be able to get her shards back. Anyway, I’m fine.”
Iris hummed, sounding a little skeptical, but seemed to decide to let it go. Caitlin watched her pack up her laptop and get her jacket, and then she hovered somewhere between Caitlin and the exit for a minute or two, looking quite conflicted.
Caitlin huffed a laugh, “I mean it, I’m fine. Just ready for this whole thing to be over.”
“Yeah. Same.” Iris smiled at her again and lifted her hand in a mock-wave. “But if you need to talk…”
“I know,” Caitlin said. “Thank you.”
“All right. Uh, goodnight. Don’t stay up too late.”
Caitlin bit down on the inside of her lip and nodded, managing to keep her composure until the sounds of Iris’s heels on the hall floor had faded away. Then she finally let out the sob she’d been keeping in for—she didn’t even know how long. It was just too much. Too much, right now. She let the tears run freely for a few moments before grabbing a tissue from her bag.
It was going to be okay, she knew it was, but for now… for now she just needed to cry.
After they’d defeated DeVoe, Caitlin didn’t think she’d see Amunet again for a while. Maybe forever.
She told herself it didn’t hurt. It couldn’t; she had no right for it to hurt. The last time they slept together—if she could even call it that—had been ages ago, and even though Amunet had kind of defrosted for the time being and had been so nice to her (with the ulterior motive to get her shards back, no doubt, but still: nice), she was under no illusions that Amunet pined after her the way Caitlin did.
For all she knew, Amunet was planning her next big score in a post-DeVoe world and didn’t spare Caitlin a single thought.
She had made the great decision to go out a few days after the whole satellite debacle; she just really needed a cocktail. She’d thought about inviting Team Flash (or at least Iris, and finally take her up on the offer to talk about everything) but put her phone away after staring at it for too long, not sure of what to say. And now she was sitting at a bar with her second Mai Tai on the bar in front of her, underdressed in just jeans and a t-shirt and her hair up in a ponytail. It wasn’t as fun as she’d imagined, all alone, but at least the drinks were good.
“Dr. Caitlin Snow.”
Caitlin almost choked on nothing but air. She turned to the source of the voice; Amunet was sliding onto the chair next to her, so close that Caitlin could smell a hint of her perfume, and signaled the bartender. She was wearing her full ‘work’ outfit, bag of metal next to her and all. Caitlin just stared at her for a moment, then drained the rest of her drink. What kind of screwed up déjà vu was this?
The bartender looked a little like he was going to pee himself as he prepared Amunet’s drink (whiskey, neat) and put it down in front of her without meeting her eyes before hurrying to the other end of the bar. Caitlin could relate.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed. She didn’t watch Amunet’s mouth as she smirked and took a sip of whiskey, lips painted a deep red. Much. “Should I be worried?”
Amunet tittered and set her drink down, finally looking at Caitlin. Her face was less harsh without the horrid dreadlocks she’d worn the first time Caitlin met her, even with her hair up. It made her itch to reach out, touch her cheek to check if her skin was really as silky as it looked. She clenched her fingers into a fist to resist the temptation.
“Worried? What ever is there to worry about?”
Caitlin rolled her eyes, then nodded at the bag of metal at their feet.
“Oh, that,” Amunet said like she hadn’t even noticed she’d brought it with her. “Just a precaution. You know how it is.”
Caitlin hummed. That she did.
“Why are you here?” she repeated. Amunet tilted her head and dropped her gaze to the glass in front of her. She looked coy with her long fake lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks. It was odd. Almost like she was… stalling. Caitlin jumped a little when a hand touched her knee. Amunet squeezed it lightly, then removed it again. She missed the sensation instantly.
“I decided to leave town for a while,” she said and met Caitlin’s eyes. Caitlin swallowed thickly. Oh. “You do know how I hate sentimentality, but… there was one thing I just couldn’t leave without.”
What the… “What do you mean?”
Amunet raised her eyebrow and picked the glass back up, downing the rest of her drink without breaking eye contact. She waved the bartender over to hand him the empty glass—oh, how she had to enjoy knowing that he was probably scared shitless of her—and gestured at Caitlin.
“Put that on her tab, would you, dear?”
Caitlin just saw him nod out of the corner of her eye, and she didn’t even have time to get indignant before Amunet curled her hand into the front of Caitlin’s t-shirt and yanked her forward to crash their mouths together. Caitlin’s surprised gasp was muffled against her lips, and Amunet bit down on her lower lip none too gently, kicking Caitlin’s brain back into gear.
Somehow, she got her hands to cup Amunet’s jaw to not let her pull away too soon—yes, soft, silky skin, indeed—and took charge of the kiss, making sure to memorize every little moment. The sharp bite of whiskey she could taste when Amunet let her lick inside her mouth, the way her jaw moved under Caitlin’s hands, how their lips stuck lightly together from their lipstick, the small appreciative sounds Amunet made.
Finally, Caitlin eased her grip on Amunet’s face and let her pull away, not able to suppress a smirk when she saw that her lipstick was a little smudged. She wasn’t faring much better, probably.
Amunet’s eyes were heavy lidded, and she seemed to have a hard time putting more space between them, but after a moment let go of Caitlin’s collar.
“Oh,” she breathed, gaze darting to her lips, “if I had a little more time, Caity… the things I’d do to you…”
Caitlin could think of a few things, too, stomach clenching pleasantly.
“And no ulterior motive at all?” she said softly.
Amunet chuckled low in her throat. “If you don’t call getting pleasure from shagging a beautiful girl an ulterior motive.” She sighed, then, and straightened up, rubbing at the corner of her mouth to fix her lipstick. She was kind of making it worse, but there was no way Caitlin was going to tell her that.
“Be good, Caity,” Amunet said. She slid off her chair and picked her bag of metal up from the floor, clearing her throat. “I meant it, you know? You really are remarkable.” She paused. “Say hi to Frost for me when you get her back.”
Caitlin would do no such thing. She couldn’t help feeling flattered, though.
Amunet gave her another smirk and turned to leave, probably fully aware of the fact that everyone in the bar was watching her, either in fear or in awe. Caitlin wasn’t sure what of those two things she was feeling, exactly. Probably both, with a hell of a lot ‘turned on’ thrown into the mix.
“Damn, girl,” the bartender said behind her after the door closed behind Amunet. Caitlin turned around and raised her eyebrows at him. He put another Mai Tai down in front of her. “That one’s on me. Looks like you need it.”
Caitlin snorted. “Thanks.”
She really did. She pulled her phone out, scrolling through her contacts until she found Iris’s name, then pressed Call.
Turned out that she did need someone to talk to, tonight, after all.