The Flash - You Are Loved More Than You Know (Savisnow oneshot)

You Are Loved More Than You Know

A/N: It's been an age since I posted any Savisnow works, life has been stressful and hectic. But I managed to finish a short ficlet for Valentine's - hope people enjoy. :)

Big thanks to for a speedy beta. <3

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"You didn't have to, you know," Caitlin says as she strolls into Savitar's lab.

It's not neatly arranged like Cisco's lab mostly is with its labelled draws and what he insists is 'organized clutter' on his desk. Here, there's crate upon crate of what looks like junk to her, but Savitar seems to be able to perform miracles, salvaging what he can from the eclectic mix of discarded components and frequently causing Cisco to envy his engineering expertise. She's lost count of how many times Cisco has complained about unfair comparisons, from Harry in particular, because Savitar is literally years ahead of him with future knowledge.

She passes the threshold but stands back, allowing him his customary space. She's always wary of pushing for too much when it comes to him. Perhaps saying thank you is too much but she wants to make sure he understands that she is, truly. She can at least make sure he sees her wearing her cryo-proofed watch. It looks in every way like her customary watch that Frost had kept cracking with cold on missions, and she'd long since stopped complaining about, just repairing or replacing it once more as needed with a sigh. The difference with this one is it had been 'gift-wrapped' in a -100 minifridge in her office, faithfully ticking when she opened it up. If he's responsible for the upgrade, like she's sure he is, then he'll recognise the significance of her wearing it again.

He stills and looks up at her entrance. Whereas anyone else – like Cisco or Barry - might either have gratefully received the thank you or awkwardly feigned ignorance about the gift that had landed on her desk, Savitar doesn't acknowledge it with more than a glance in her direction and a curt nod in response. That moment, however brief, makes her heart skip a beat with his piercing gaze falling on her.

The spell is broken though, as usual, with Savitar getting back to the task at hand. Not that she's sure what it is, the item in front of him looks practically alien to her.

Caitlin steps forward, approaching his bench and taking a deep breath to steel herself. There's a fluttering sensation in her stomach making her almost nauseous but there's also an overpowering desire to grin coming from Frost, who has been increasingly amused at the effect Savitar has started to have on her headmate lately.

Caitlin has to repress the urge to frown, pretty irked at Frost since she wasn't meant to be a participant in this conversation; she does the mental equivalent of shooing her alter ego away. At least her annoyance at Frost provides some distraction from the worry that's weighing heavily in her stomach in contrast to the rush of excitement at what she intends to attempt.

"I mean it," she says, tilting her head as she leans forward a little into his space from the other side of the bench, trying to catch his eye.

It works. He stops what he's doing again, tool placed down calmly as he straightens up, which places some extra distance between them. She's still worried he isn't happy with her intrusion, but he's not crossing his arms, so she takes that as a sign he isn't necessarily unhappy. She actually doesn't know what to make of his body language today – his hands rest lightly on the edge of the bench, not quite gripping it. Something about it feels to her like he's using it for support, albeit reluctantly, but she doesn't know why exactly she thinks that. The idea doesn't mesh with what she knows of him, so it doesn't seem likely to be true. Savitar has made it clear on many occasions that he's self-sufficient. He had to be. And yet her gut instinct tells her he needs more than he has, making her want to help with whatever he will allow.

She thinks she's going to have to say it again, but he surprises her by filling the silence himself with what are oddly neutral words for him. They lack the fervor he so often speaks with, carefully measured instead.

"It was nothing, don't mention it."

She can't tell if that's intended as a literal demand to drop it, but if so, fat chance. It isn't nothing to her and he ought to know. No matter how intimidating he might try to be, she has in her the same defiant core as Frost – when something matters to her, she doesn't give up.

"Well, I am. Going to mention it. At least this once."

Caitlin stops fighting the urge to reach out. She stops letting her fear rule her. Maybe it's a bad idea but Frost's advice to live a little spurns her on. Time to go for it.

She walks around the bench so they are on equal footing and is relieved when he doesn't move away. By his sidelong glance at her, he seems curious at her actions.

She repeats the sentiment again, reaching out to place her hand over his as she does, "Thank you, Savitar. It means a lot to me."

He stands there like a statue, staring down at the point of contact between them. She can hardly breathe as she takes in the warmth of his skin against her own and awaits his response, not wanting this moment to be broken. What she expects is for him to move away and it seems for a second like he is going to, his hand moving under her own. Except it's moving slowly, so that hers trails over his, causing her to come out in goosebumps at the sensation. At the last moment, his hand turns over unexpectedly, his long fingers parting hers as he initiates a loose handhold.

She has no idea what to say. The whole scenario feels like something out of a dream, exacerbating the floaty feeling she has around him and the only thing anchoring her is his grip as he tightens it.

Caitlin glances up in time to see the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows hard - is he nervous?

"You're welcome."

It's just a few words but it feels like a hard-won victory in getting him to see he can be appreciated.

He doesn't meet her eyes and she honestly isn't sure if she could take it if he could, not if it would be anything like the intensity he tends to have. That with even more emotion could well be overwhelming. She isn't sure she's ready for it. Staring down at their hands entwined, there's a warmth spreading up from there that soothes her soul and she dearly hopes it does the same for him.