Work Text:
No matter how many times Ray's been told not to bother Dr. Snow, he never really learns his lesson.
{“She thinks of herself as an artist, she walks to the show like a Queen.
And her demeanor is slick, and she can turn you down with the flick of her fingers if she feels it…”}
There is an uncanny bliss in being torn apart by her; a strange addiction which leaves him coming back for more.
She's ruthless when it comes to critiquing him. The slightest implication, and he feels that she might explode into chaos and rage.
("What is wrong with you, Ray?")
("Can't you do anything right, Ray?")
("How stupid can you be, Ray?")
However one night, he feels that he's hit the jackpot. They're working on creating a new algorithm to monitor Barry's vitals, and he hasn't said anything too mindless to upset her; in fact he's cracked a few puns (albeit terrible ones, but with Caitlin Snow he takes what he can get). And he just finally feels like she has warmed up to him.
He decides to test the waters and asks her if she has plans. She chuckles and says 'no'; muttering something about having no social life under her breath.
Ray grins, he was in dangerous waters now (one bad move, and he would sink). "In that case, would you like to join me for dinner?"
She freezes for a split second, as her stoic form falters. However that is only for a moment, the next second she regains her posture; a small smile forming by the edge of her mouth. "I'm sorry Mr. Palmer, but now that I think about it I do have plans with a special someone."
She motions her hand towards a comatose Barry Allen. "Perhaps another time."
Ray frowns, and just like that he sinks; nodding sheepishly, before carrying on with his work.
Maybe now he finally learnt his lesson.
{“She thinks of herself as a lady, she walks down the aisle with grace.
And her hair falls down her neck, and she might even give you a peck on the lips if she feels it.”}