Please send prompts to my tumblr (allen-and-snow)! My ask box is always open!

This chapter is based on a prompt from littlecalla-fiore! Rating: K

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Flash or any of its characters. I am only a teenager with internet access.

~J.H.

Caitlin was frantic. Ten minutes until the convention and she couldn't find her freaking purse! "Where the hell…" she muttered to herself, hurriedly searching around her desk. She sighed in frustration when she couldn't find it.

"Just go without it!" Cisco called from the other side of the room.

"I can't just go without it, Cisco. I need it. It has my speech in it!" She answered through gritted teeth.

"Just print off another copy," Cisco suggested.

"I. Need. My. Purse."

Cisco shrugged, indifferent. Caitlin turned back to the job at hand. She tried to retrace her steps in her mind, but couldn't remember the last place she had her stupid purse. Annoyed, she reached up to smooth her hair back, only to discover in dismay that her neat, elegant bun was already starting to frizz.

She growled in frustration and turns toward the door, exiting without saying goodbye to Cisco. Maybe my purse is downstairs she thought hopefully. She reached the elevator, realizing as she pushed the down button that her immaculately painted nails were already starting to chip.

So, in conclusion: she looked like a disaster. A complete and utter disaster. Her hair isn't behaving, her purse is missing, her nail polish is chipped, and her makeup is probably smeared. Oh, yes, she can tell this is going to be a great convention. The elevator opened with a small ding! and she found herself face to face with Barry Allen.

"Scuse me," Caitlin said, pushing past him to get into the elevator. Barry knew he should move, to let her through but he can't. He's absolutely frozen in place, staring at her. She was wearing an off-white, long sleeved lacy dress that fell just below her knees, with a simple black leather jacket. Her red nails match her red shoes, and her hair was braided and pinned away from her face. The outfit somehow made her look both cute and intimidating, which was actually a pretty good description of her in general.

"Barry," her voice cut through his thoughts suddenly.

"Uh, what?" he said, trying to clear his mind.

She rolled her eyes, "I said what floor are you going to?"

"Oh…" Barry was suddenly distracted by her eyes—she'd put on mascara that made her already long eyelashes even longer, and her eyeliner brought out the deep brown color. How had he never noticed what a nice color her eyes were? Desperately, he tried to finish his sentence, but his brain is suddenly slush. "Uh..what floor are you going to?" he managed to get out.

Caitlin sighs and presses the button for the lobby. "I'm looking for my purse," she explained.

Barry suddenly remembered why he got on the elevator in the first place. "Here," he says, holding the red purse out, "You left it upstairs."

She took it and thanks him. The purse is small and red—the exact same color of her nails, and shoes. She opened it and pulled out lipstick, which isn't red, like he'd expect. It's a pale pink color, but somehow that brought out the color and fullness of her lips even more. "You wanna explain why you're staring at me so much?" Caitlin asked, fixing up your lipstick.

Barry swallowed uncomfortably; he didn't think she'd notice. But then, it's Caitlin. Of course she'd notice. The elevator dinged and Caitlin got off, not really waiting for his explanation. He got off with her, suddenly feeling the need to talk to her.

"Nothing," he said, suddenly feeling like he needed to tell her, "I just, um, didn't realize…" She turned and looked back at him, inches away. For some reason, he can't seem to form words anymore, "It's just that..you um..look…really good."

"You didn't realize I looked good? You sound surprised."

He doubled back, trying to fix his mistake, "No! No, I mean you always look good, but right now you just look really good. Not—not that I was looking at you, but I mean we were in the elevator and I just happened to look over and notice that you looked really beautiful—I mean I wasn't staring or anything, I was just thinking—not about you!" Caitlin just raised her eyebrows as he continued rambling, "…not that it would be bad if I was thinking of you, and…I mean I was thinking of you, but like…" he sighed, turning to leave, "I'll just go now."

She laughs a little, suddenly cheered up. His good mood is contagious, and she can't help but find if adorable that he's so nervous. She suddenly reaches up and plants a kiss on his cheek.

"You're pretty sweet, Barry Allen," she said, throwing him one of her rare, beautiful smiles before she walks out the door.

Barry is utterly dumbstruck. He reached up and touched the place on his cheek where her lips touched. "You too, Caitlin Snow," he said to himself, "you too."