A/n: A story I've written in the past. I've decided to delete the story and re-upload the chapter here, as it's after-all, a drabble. I've edited and rewritten quite a bit of the story. So, same story, but different.

Summary: In which they meet under a mistletoe.

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Chapter: 4

She was glowing, an alluring vibrancy which fully captured his untearable gaze; it wasn't because of the tiny Christmas lights above, nor the adorning blue dress, elegantly and perfectly accentuating the colors of her eyes.

His breath caught, and for a single moment, Barry forgot where exactly he was.

She appeared a little lost at first, trapped in a sea of unfamiliarity, but as their gaze caught across the room, amidst the throngs of Christmas partygoers, her eyes lit up at his presence, and he was once again reminded of how beautifully they complimented her equally colored dress. Or perhaps it was the other way round, something about the woman making the dress, and not the dress making the woman. He was certain it was the former in her case – Caitlin Snow could make almost anything work.

Even in a pair of dirty laboratory garbs, she could still send his heart into flutters.

She approached, and his suit suddenly felt a lot tighter than before; an uncomfortable pressure that matched the tightness of his chest. She stopped in front of him, and he could smell her, a pleasant mix of oranges and mint, and even with all of his increased metabolism, Barry Allen found himself quickly intoxicated by her presence.

"Merry Christmas, Barry Allen."

"Merry Christmas, Caitlin Snow."

She leaned towards him, and he pulled her into a close embrace, his hands sliding behind her as he hugged her just a little longer than usual.

"Mr. Allen," she laughed softly when they parted, "I've never been greeted in such a generous manner."

"Well, Miss Snow, it's just good to see a familiar face," he chuckled, "I think Joe invited half the precinct over."

"I can tell, I thought I stepped into the wrong building at first, I was just waiting for someone to kick me out."

"I don't think anyone would kick you out in that dress."

She laughed, "Barry Allen, is that a compliment?"

"A thinly veiled compliment, if I do say so myself," he smiled, "Caitlin, you look amazing."

"You don't look too shabby yourself," she nudged him playfully on his shoulder. "Wearing a red suit to Christmas? That is either a fashion statement, or…" she leaned in closer, and his breath caught at their sudden nearness, "you're trying to subliminally let everyone know you're the Flash."

Before he could reply, Joe West dropped by the two, cheerfully pulling them both into a gigantic bear hug before going on his way.

"At least Joe seems to be having fun," Barry laughed, his goofy foster father certainly knew how to throw his Christmas parties. "Did you know that when we were younger, Joe and I used to-…"

He paused, suddenly noticing her intense stare. Her smile evaporated, and there remained only an intensity he couldn't quite understand.

He followed her gaze upwards – and came upon the mistletoe Joe must have hung while distracting them with his bear hug.

There was a slight flush across her cheeks, an adorable tint she couldn't hide, and he knew it wasn't just from Iris's alcoholic eggnogs.

"D-did you know," he stuttered, "that mistletoes are related to the-… umm, Norse mythology? It started when Loki tricked the blind dog Hodur into-"

"Barry Allen," she interrupted, and then asked, in a most curious manner, "are you going to kiss me?"

He froze.

She looked away and shyly said, "It's okay, I mean, if you and Iris are still… I would understand."

"That's not it, that's not it at all."

He took a deep breath, and before she could say anything else, he reached towards her, his hands pulling onto her own, the momentum sending her spinning towards him. Her palms ended up on his chest, and they suddenly only inches apart. She inhaled sharply, her eyes closing, and suddenly, his hands were resting warmly against her cheeks.

He pulled, and their lips came together.

It was gentle, nothing more than a simple peck; a formality, their first kiss under the mistletoe.

He wanted more, but they parted, and he was left wondering if she would object if he attempted another. His breathing quickened, and when he saw the same look in her eyes as his, Barry Allen did not hesitate the second time round.

He kissed her again, and again, and again, and this time, ardently stole her breath away.

"That was…" she whispered afterwards, her eyes happily finding his, and not quite finishing the sentence.

"Lost for words?" he smiled, "was that a compliment?"

She laughed, "A thinly veiled compliment, if I do say so myself."

And then at once, all the lights simultaneously dimmed, and a romantic tune started in the background, prompting many of the party goers to find a partner and sway to the music.

"Caitlin Snow," he turned towards her, "may I have the dance?"

"Well, Barry Allen," she smiled, "I thought you would never ask."

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