A/N: Hello! I started watching The Flash less than a week ago and already I'm here. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Who knows. This is going to be a multi chapter fic. I haven't decided how long it's going to be but I predict at least 4 or 5 chapters. Maybe longer. Since I haven't been watching the show for very long I may get some random character/canon details wrong. I apologize in advance if I do.

Also, I know some people follow me so they'll probably get an email that I've posted a new story. In terms of my Bethyl fic (Out of the Woods)... I'm not sure if I'll ever finish it. After 5x10 came and went with nothing I just sort of lost my drive. I still love Bethyl but I also try not to think about them too much, if that makes sense. Maybe it'll change one day because I love that fic and obviously it has a special place in my heart because it was the first fanfic that I ever wrote.

Anyway- watch The Flash and ship Snowells, please and thank you!

When it happened, she wasn't ready.

Who could be?

One second your boss is standing over your shoulder, commending your work. Then all of the sudden you're picturing him lifting you onto your desk, his hand slowly trailing up your skirt.

It's impossible to be ready for that.

No one could be.

When it happened she shot up from her seat, roughly bumping into his shoulder as she backed away. A quick excuse about having to use the bathroom got her out of the room. As soon as the lab's door closed behind her she was sprinting down the hall.

At least, as much as she was capable of sprinting while wearing heels.

For the hundredth time, Caitlin was grateful that the bathrooms of STAR Labs weren't communal. Sometimes in the middle of a 15 hour workday she just needed to sink down onto the (thankfully) pristine tile floor and let herself breathe.

This time was a little different. This time she was attempting to slow her heart rate. Her chest had begun aching from the intense pounding so she really needed it to stop.

When it did she pushed herself up off the floor and made her way to the mirror that hung over the sink. Her cheeks were bright red, burning against the back of her hands. Caitlin turned the faucet on to its coldest setting but stopped herself as she was halfway to splashing water onto her face.

For the hundredth time she resented that she had begun wearing makeup in her day to day life. The lipstick, the mascara, a light smattering of blush on her cheeks... It was a nuisance more than anything.

In college she had discovered that when a woman was attractive more doors opened to her. The sexism behind that fact made her cringe. But not as much as the thought of a lackluster career did. The realization had led her down a disastrous path of bright red lipstick and false eyelashes, but she'd eventually figured it out. With an IQ of 163, Caitlin hadn't been willing to let makeup be her downfall. Instead she had thrown herself into learning how to apply makeup the way she threw herself into everything else: with a ridiculous amount of dedication.

Half a dozen subscriptions to beauty magazines had clogged her mailbox for months. After ripping out every other grossly sexist article that the magazines had to offer, there had still been a hefty stack of papers left. Every night Caitlin had forced herself to tear away from her studies long enough to try out one "look".

If she was being honest then she was willing to admit it had actually been kind of... Fun.

Except for right now, when it was not only preventing her from cooling herself down, it was also highlighting the blotchy red spots that had taken over her cheeks.

It's nothing, she told herself. Everyone has random, weird thoughts on occasion. All she needed to do was ignore it.

But as she moved to open the bathroom door, another image flew through her mind. This time of Dr. Wells pushing her bra strap to the side and his mouth replacing where it had been. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was the kind of kiss that would leave a mark on her pale skin.

Holy shit, she was fantasizing about her boss giving her a hickey. She had reached new lows.

Sighing, Caitlin let her hand drop from the door handle, making the decision to camp out in the bathroom for a little longer. As long as it took for Wells to leave her lab. Research be damned. Particle accelerator be damned.

All she needed was a few more minutes, anyway.

Later that night she saw him in the hallway near the cafeteria. She'd been on her way out for the night but had decided to stop for a cup of coffee before she left. It may have been 7:45 at night but it wasn't like the coffee was strong. She had just grown attached to the taste of coffee that was grossly watered down.

Thanks a lot, student loans.

"Snow," Dr. Wells nodded to her as they neared each other. "I'm sorry I had to leave before you got back earlier. Are you feeling better?"

For a second his question caused her to panic (How did he know?!), but he didn't appear to be making fun of her. At least, he wasn't smiling. Actually, Caitlin realized, Wells hardly ever smiled outside of observing one of his employee's accomplishments.

Which was totally not something that mattered to her. Who cared what he thought and did outside of her job performance? Who cared what he did naked.

Caitlin Janine Snow certainly didn't.

"Caitlin?" Wells' voice brought her back into the real world, his tone one of concern.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she nodded too enthusiastically.

"No, I asked if you were coming into work tomorrow."

She was about to answer with a yes (Caitlin always came in on Saturdays). But before she could even open her mouth, her eyes moved down to his jaw line. A jaw line that had suddenly, magically, overnight become ridiculously defined.

"No!" Caitlin's voice raised an octave over her normal one. "I'm really sorry but I can't."

"There's really no need to be sorry," Dr. Wells assured. "It's the weekend. I rarely say this to an employee but you work too much. Two days off won't ruin our operation."

Then with a quick pat on her shoulder he was gone.

Caitlin gulped in the stale air around her. How long had she been holding her breath for? Crap, her face was probably blue or something.

As she walked out the door it suddenly dawned on her what Dr. Wells had meant when he asked whether or not she felt better. After a half hour in the bathroom there was really only one thing that he could be asking. A wave of embarrassment, coupled with an equally strong wave of nausea, overtook her.

It was settled. She was quitting immediately and moving to another country.

Except… She really wanted to see the particle accelerator finished and turned on. So she'd be leaving immediately after that.

For now she would call up Lisa. Call up Lisa and go to some hip, overpriced bar. Call up Lisa, go to some hip, overpriced bar, and sleep with some random jerk who she would never have to see again.

Yep. That was the best way to deal with this whole thing. The problem was just that she hadn't gotten laid in a while. Come Monday everything would be fine.