Archive of Our Own ^beta

"You want me to what?!"

Caitlyn sighed. She should have known that her request wouldn’t go down well with her partner. But a part of her had still hoped for a slightly more positive reaction.

"It's only for one evening, Vi," she tried to argue.

"Absolutely not," Vi laughed.

It was a disbelieving laugh. Caitlyn far preferred her regular laughter; the one where Vi let loose and her normally steady shoulders shook. Or that shy Vi laugh where she would bite her lip and dodge Caitlyn’s eyes. Caitlyn had only gotten to see that one a handful of times and she cherished every one of them.

She resorted to pleading: "Please, Vi. The gala is going to be filled with emissaries and artists and aristocrats that I’ve never interacted with in my life. If I’ll be stuck in there without anybody normal to talk to, I’m going to go insane!”

“Normal old me, huh?” One clipped eyebrow rose, almost disappearing into Vi’s shock of pink hair. “Gee, you really know how to flatter a girl.”

“You know what I mean. It would really mean a lot to me. And I’d owe you one.”

Vi considered that for a moment. Caitlyn could practically see the thought processes pulling together behind her brow, wondering what she could demand in return. It made Caitlyn’s stomach churn with trepidation. She’d owed her partner favours before and they never ended well. When it came to paying up, Vi had a way of always finding the thing that would cause Caitlyn the most embarrassment.

“You know, I could just order you to come along,” she stated indignantly.

Vi shrugged. “You could.”

They both knew that she couldn’t.

“See, since we’ve taken down the Vanns I’m not sure how welcome I am among the influential families anymore. And might I remind you what you told me, Vi? You’d always have my back? Are you going to go back on your word there, partner?”

It was Caitlyn’s ultimate card to play and she could see that it did its job wearing down Vi’s defences. For all of the brawler’s faults – and there were quite a few – she would never go back on a promise. And she also couldn’t resist a challenge.

Vi gave a very theatrical groan. She shifted her seat on top of Caitlyn’s desk and further disrupted her perfectly sorted paperwork. Caitlyn sighed inwardly as she watched all kinds of important documents crumple and flutter to the floor of her bedroom, silently wondering if she could just let them stay there and never pick them up again. Despite the guilt she felt for even considering it, it was a very tempting thought. Lately her work had developed a nasty habit of following her home and it somehow never seemed to decrease, either. Give it another two months and she would probably fall asleep next to documents on tax fraud.

What a profoundly depressing thought that was. Attending some long-winded party was actually beginning to sound rather nice, if only to take her mind off work for a few hours. Caitlyn would never admit to that, though. From an early age she had learned that anything less than industrious might as well be called lazy, so it was a good thing that going to this gala was no mere indulgence but a part of her duties.

Caitlyn furtively glanced at her partner, trying to gage if Vi had picked up on her guilty thought process. Normally she considered herself difficult to read, but the one exception to that seemed to be Vi and she relished in teasing Caitlyn over it.

Now Vi’s brow was still furrowed in thought, considering Caitlyn’s request, her left foot and hand tapping restlessly against the desk. She had shaken off her uniform and left the gauntlets by the door and Caitlyn was struck by how…at home Vi looked in this setting. Not the unstoppable force that brought order to a neighbourhood, but simply her friend taking a rest from the day’s work. It was almost domestic.

It wasn't the first time they had one of their meetings here rather than in Caitlyn's office. After what they had been through together, the line between their personal and business relationships had been rather blurred from the start – it would have felt strange to Caitlyn if she hadn't been able to invite her friend to her home.

Perhaps it caused a few raised eyebrows with her new subordinates in the force, but Caitlyn couldn't bring herself to care. Mostly she was just glad that Vi was still around, in whatever capacity she decided.

After another long moment Vi’s limbs stopped hitting Caitlyn’s desk and she gave a resigned sigh. “You know, this was not the kind of ‘having your back’ I had in mind, Cait.”

Caitlyn shrugged. “It’s applicable.” Then, in a softer tone, she added, “You’d really be doing me a favour. I’d be pretty lost without you.” It was only half a joke.

“Yeah, yeah. Frankly, I thought you were buried in your work all week. How does that square with indulging in a fancy party, Sheriff Cupcake?” It was said with a grin and a meaningful nod to the papers strewn across the floor.

Fuck, so she had noticed the guilty thoughts.

Vi noticed far too much about her.

“How did you do it?” Vi wants to know.

“Do what?” Caitlyn looks up from the paperwork of their completed case. She’s been too grateful to finally be able to put this away to even have noticed her partner enter the room.

“What do you think, ‘what’, Sheriff Cupcake?”

“I’m still a detective, Vi,” Caitlyn corrects her.

“Sure. We both know they’ll make you sheriff for this. Don’t distract from the topic.” Vi unceremoniously falls into the office chair that Caitlyn has vacated and starts spinning around in it. “We’ve been after the dealers for weeks, and nothing. Then you show up one morning, saying you ‘have a feeling about this Shirocco guy’, and the next thing I know we’re bagging him and two warehouses worth of Shimmer. I’m way past believing in lucky guesses when it comes to you, so how the hell did you figure it out?”

Caitlyn can’t quite suppress her smile. “It was the dust on his coat.”

Vi stops spinning to look at her, one eyebrow raised. “The dust.”

“Indeed.”

“On his coat.”

“Correct.”

“Do you care to explain, or do I have to tease this out of you inch by inch?”

“Think on it for a moment and you’ll figure it out as well,” Caitlyn encourages her partner. Truth is, she only pieced it together based on something Vi told her the other day. She can see the good detective that her friend will make one day. Vi is already good at piecing things together when she wants to; the trouble is just that she doesn’t often want to.

“The truth is always in the little details. That’s what Sheriff Grayson used to say. And I think sometimes all you have to do is take a step back to see them properly in front of you.”

The arched eyebrow rises even further. Then Vi jumps to her feet and paces to the other side of Caitlyn’s office. From over there she peers at Caitlyn through narrowed eyes.

Caitlyn giggles, entirely too loudly. Through the blinds she can see the heads of several of the other detectives swivel around to them. “You’re not… That wasn’t meant literally! I’m not a case for you to crack!”

“Yes you are. And I’ll figure you out yet,” Vi huffs. Caitlyn can’t tell if it is a threat or a promise.

“It’s not like I want to be at that gala,” Caitlyn protested, attempting to salvage some dignity. “My presence is expected. Societal expectations, you see, so it might as well be written into law.”

“I see. So being sheriff does have its…perks? I didn’t know part of your job was hanging round the upper-class.”

The comment unknowingly hit a wrong cord and suddenly their easy conversation seemed to develop a list. Caitlyn sat up a little straighter. She clarified, “I’m not attending in my role as sheriff, but as the…the head of the Kiramman family.”

They both noticed the falter in her voice. “…Oh.” Vi’s eyes, sparkling sarcastically just a moment ago, dropped. She shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

Caitlyn looked away too, choosing to focus on the rain pattering against the balcony window instead of on that painfully guilty expression that she knew would be on her partner’s face. Six months since she’d seen it for the first time that night, and Caitlyn hadn’t yet learned how to deal with it, or how to stop it from appearing.

“Anyways, I should be on patrol tonight,” Vi finally spoke up again.

Caitlyn frowned at that. “You’re not on duty.”

She had Vi’s schedule memorized. Part of being a good sheriff.

“Sure, but someone has to keep the peace while you’re out gallivanting with high society.” Vi’s smirk was just touch too wide to be genuine. “’Gallivanting’. See, I’ve picked up some fancy words, too.”

“You’ve made the streets safe enough; they’ll survive a few hours without you,” Caitlyn protested.

It was the truth: since she had convinced Vi to join the force, open crime in Piltover and even in Zaun had sharply declined, most of which Caitlyn attributed to her partner’s strangely successful mix of fists, street diplomacy and connections. All of the things that could have made her a threat to Piltover she used instead to try and bring the two cities together. And, inch by inch, she was succeeding, even if Vi herself often couldn’t see it.

But Caitlyn also knew that Vi would continue to go out there until her feet and knuckles were rubbed raw, no matter how little there was actually left for her to do. And Caitlyn bringing up the memory of that night didn’t help.

Jinx isn’t out there anymore, Caitlyn wanted to tell her friend, but, as always, she stayed silent. Words didn’t cut it. They never did.

Instead Caitlyn turned her chair towards Vi fully and reached out, encouraged when Vi didn’t flinch away. She let Caitlyn’s hand linger on her arm and even leaned a little towards her; a closeness that had become painfully rare for them. Caitlyn’s chest felt close to bursting with all the things she wanted to say, all the things that she couldn’t.

“Please,” she repeated. “Just one evening. For me.” For us.

Vi met her gaze and for a brief heartbeat Caitlyn could see vulnerability, before grey eyes blinked it away. For a moment they just looked at each other. Then Vi responded by closing her own hand over Caitlyn’s. She started rubbing slow circles over the sheriff’s knuckles, shooting Caitlyn a glance through her bangs.

“You said you’d be lost in there without me?”

“Completely.”

“So I get to be your valiant saviour again?” This time a small smile accompanied the question.

Caitlyn laughed. “If you want.” She tilted her palm to return the pressure of Vi’s fingers. “Be my knight in shining armour.”

Vi finally relented. “Yeah, yeah, alright. Bit thick, but you got me.” She pulled away to point a finger under Caitlyn’s chin. “But you are really going to owe me after this, Cupcake. I also won’t take any responsibility for things that go wrong. And it’s a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see. Who knows, you might like it.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Vi stated. “Do I have to talk to people?”

“Ideally.”

“Is cursing allowed, at least?”

“Only under your breath.”

Vi groaned. “Shit, Cait, I need something to blow off steam if you don’t want me punching some snobby rich kid.”

“You won’t punch any snobby rich kids,” Caitlyn told her sternly. Sometimes her partner displayed all the maturity and demeanour of a little puppy testing out the patience of its family. “In fact, for the duration of this evening, you will be a respectable member of the city’s high society. Piltover’s finest.”

“Blegh.”

“Also,” Caitlyn added with a grin, “you should look the part.”

Grey eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What’s that supposed to mean? What are you up to?"

Instead of an answer Caitlyn got to her feet, crossed over to her closet and threw it open wide. With a flourish, she indicated the foremost item inside.

It produced a rather comical look on her partner’s face. Vi scoffed. “Forget it. I’m not wearing that.”

Vi looked really good wearing that.

It was about the seventh time that Caitlyn’s brain threw this information her way, but in its defence, it did bear repeating.

Red had always looked good on her partner. Not that it had much competition, since that old red jacket of hers sometimes seemed to be the only attire Vi ever wore. And Caitlyn would admit that she had grown rather fond of the colour as a result. She also liked the jacket’s rugged look on Vi, which complemented the rest of her rather perfectly. But.

There was definitely something to be said for the ankle-long red dress that Caitlyn’s partner was sporting now. It accentuated and obscured her figure in all the right ways, smoothing the hard lines of her body into something softer without taking away from the strength that radiated from the Zaunite.

It was definitely a departure from her usual style and required getting used to seeing it on Vi; that was true. But tonight Caitlyn wanted her to relax and have fun, so losing her street clothes for a few hours couldn’t hurt. Not to mention that the sleeveless dress left her heavily tattooed arms bare all the way up to the neck and it was doing all kinds of things to Caitlyn.

This had simultaneously been the best and worst idea of her life.

Vi, for her part, didn’t quite seem to share her enthusiasm. Since they had left the Kiramman estate, she hadn’t stopped fidgeting, tugging at her dress or trying to shove her hands into pockets that weren’t there.

“This is ridiculous,” she complained rather loudly.

“So you’ve said.”

Vi sent her a grouchy look. “Everyone is staring at me like I’m an odd circus exhibit.”

Caitlyn could see where her partner got that impression from. They had indeed drawn quite a few looks on their way, both from the casual passers-by on the street and now from the other guests waiting with them in line to be admitted to the gala. And some of those people were no doubt judging the pink-haired Zaunite who had somehow erred into this venue. But if Caitlyn judged it correctly, most of the looks on Vi carried the same mix of surprise and admiration that Caitlyn’s currently did.

Speaking of. She really shouldn’t stare this much.

Thankfully Vi was too busy glaring at her other admirers to notice. For the hundredth time she tried to tug at a non-existent sleeve, before reaching behind her back for her hood, with the same result. A frustrated growl escaped her: “How do you live like this?!”

“I don’t,” Caitlyn pointed out. She was wearing a navy blue dress to match Vi’s and she’d be lying if she claimed that it was her favourite thing, either. It was comfortable, but compared to her police uniform it lacked certain advantages. Namely pockets. And mobility. She could see why her partner disliked it.

But had they both worn their uniforms instead, they would have caused a stir in this environment for sure. The dress code of these events, much like Caitlyn’s presence at them, might as well have been written into law. And gods knew that a stir, even as ridiculous a one as this one would be, was the last thing Piltover needed right now. Jayce and Mel were having a hard enough time keeping things together as it was without Caitlyn alienating some important ambassador or other.

Maybe this had been a bad idea.

Caitlyn threw a furtive glance at Vi. She could have easily stuck through this event without her friend’s help; she’d done it often enough since she’d been a kid. She had a sneaking suspicion that Vi knew that as well.

Caitlyn had wanted to get her partner off the streets and out of her head, at least for an evening. She wanted people to finally recognize what Vi was doing for their two cities, even if her partner herself might not care for recognition. And a selfish part of Caitlyn also wanted to simply spend time with her again when they weren’t on the clock.

But Vi clearly didn’t care for this. Perhaps she should have waited for a better time, a better place…

No. She’d waited too long already.

V i isn’t home yet.

Caitlyn knows as soon as she presses her finger to the doorbell. The small apartment building, located just on the Zaunite side of the bridge, is home to a few residents besides Vi, but somehow as Caitlyn is standing in front of it now, it feels empty. No space that Vi occupies is ever this silent. She is still out, and who knows when she will be back.

Caitlyn sighs, swinging the useless bag of food by her side. After the way Vi has stormed away from her the last time, Caitlyn had a feeling that she wouldn’t find her here. But a part of her still hoped.

Vi has been in a bad mood all week. Terse, more tight-lipped than usual, making herself rare around the station and the Kiramman estate. It would be going too far to say she is avoiding Caitlyn, but she definitely seems to want for some space.

They’ve had a lot of good days for a while, so it caught Caitlyn off-guard. She doesn’t know what set it off, whether it was some enforcer’s badly judged remark, a tense situation in Zaun or just a bad day. But, like an idiot, Caitlyn tried to talk it out with her – pushed her into talking, really – which only ended with Vi moving to an even greater distance. She should have known better.

Now, like an even bigger idiot, Caitlyn is standing in front of Vi’s empty apartment, reconciliation dinner growing cold in her bag. For a moment she considers sitting down on the steps and waiting for Vi to come back, however long that might take. Or venturing down into Zaun in some vague hope of running into her.

But then that would be exactly the kind of pushy behaviour that has gotten her into this situation in the first place, wouldn’t it?

With a sigh, Caitlyn turns her back and starts making her way back where she came from.

She’ll make it right tomorrow. She’ll find some way to let Vi know that she cares without pushing too much. They’ll get through this. Like they’ve gotten through bad days before. It’ll be alright.

Unbidden, the thought of Vi not coming back this time rears its ugly head in Caitlyn’s mind. The apartment permanently staying empty. No toothy grin to greet Caitlyn when she comes to work in the morning. No dirty boots propped up on her desk, despite all protest. No attitude challenging her at every turn of a case. No Vi.

The thought stings more than she anticipated.

Caitlyn tries to push down the irrational sense of betrayal. Truthfully, she couldn’t even blame Vi if she left. They’ve done a lot of good together, but what has Vi gotten out of it? What does Caitlyn have to offer her besides a thankless job and painful memories? Nothing. If there were any sign that Jinx was still in Zaun somewhere, Vi would be long gone already. Caitlyn knows that and it’s understandable. It shouldn’t hurt so much.

Vi doesn’t need her sentimentality right now. Caitlyn doesn’t know what she needs or how to give it to her, but maybe she has to accept that she cannot solve this. Maybe she should distance herself from Vi so that her friend is free to figure out where she wants to go from here. That might be what they both need.

Even as the thought rears in her mind, Caitlyn already knows that she won’t be able to follow through.

They had made their way to the entrance by now, where two uniformed enforcers checked everyone who entered. They gave Vi suspicious looks when they approached, to which Vi responded by throwing a challenging one right back. Somehow it carried more weight with her in a dress than with her gauntlets. Caitlyn put a hand on her arm, not because she was worried that Vi might start throwing fists, but to make it clear that Vi was with her. Once the guards recognized the sheriff, the two of them were admitted without further complication.

“They’re not very intimidating,” Vi commented, without waiting to be out of earshot of the guards. “I could force my way past them even without the gauntlets.”

“Possibly, but I suspect you could do that with any two men, not just those two,” Caitlyn replied. “Please refrain from thought exercises about hurting your colleagues for the evening, alright?”

“Just because you’re my boss and also their boss doesn’t make those knuckleheads my colleagues,” Vi protested. “And you’re possibly right, m’lady, but compare those prim and proper guys to the bouncers at the shittiest bar in Zaun. At least those look threatening. You might want to – shit!”

They were entering the ballroom; a huge hall whose expanse easily justified Vi’s awestruck curse. The entire hall might comfortably fit four or five houses down in the Undercity. Its walls were white alabaster and the floor polished marble. A massive, reflective candelabrum was hanging from the ceiling, casting the crowd of party guests below in golden light. Every inch of the hall screamed of wealth.

Caitlyn couldn’t tell whether the look on her partner’s face was more awe or disgust. Probably a mixture of both.

How many people could we feed or lift up from those toxic fissures if we sold just the decorations of this room? Caitlyn wondered. A lot, certainly. She had the sudden urge to apologize to her partner.

But as always when it came to this subject any words she considered sounded hollow in her head. The only thing that would help was action – and Caitlyn intended to act. But any meaningful change would take time.

She settled on saying, “I told you it was fancy society this evening.”

“It’s…impressive,” Vi commented.

Caitlyn gave her an apologetic smile. “Look at you, being diplomatic.”

“All your fault.” Vi gazed around the room, taking in the polished floor, the abundance of small tables with food platters and the richly dressed Piltovians clustered around them in small groups, and she cursed again: “Shit, if I’d known this was how you lived, we’d have come up to rob you a lot more often.”

A server came up to them and offered them glasses of champagne, which Caitlyn politely accepted for both of them. Vi downed hers in one shot.

“That implies that it wasn’t a rare thing for you to begin with,” Caitlyn pointed out, tapping at her glass. “Should I be worried that anyone here recognizes you from one of those escapades?”

Vi snorted. “Hardly. First off, if I’d have let anyone see me, I’d be a bad burglar. And second, that was all years ago, before…”

She trailed off. Caitlyn saw something close off in her face, like shutters suddenly snapping shut. Vi grimaced. “Well, I didn’t exactly have much opportunity for burglary since then. Somehow I’m now the girl stopping the burglars.”

“Takes one to catch one, I guess,” Caitlyn joked. She stepped a little closer to adjust a crease in her partner’s dress, using it as an excuse to try and smooth out that faraway look that had entered Vi’s eyes just then.

She had to be thinking of Stillwater. The memories of that time were painful and sometimes they resisted Vi’s efforts to brush them away. Caitlyn wished she could take care of her demons the same way she could burglars and shimmer smugglers, but the best she could do was offer assistance in this fight; not fight it for her partner. By now she knew better than to try.

Caitlyn trailed her hand up the red dress and lingered on the bare skin of Vi’s shoulder, once more using touch where words were insufficient. She succeeded in drawing those grey eyes back to her, alert and a little surprised. Caitlyn let her fingers trace the lines of a gear tattoo, idly wondering how many of those the red dress was still hiding. She suggested, “If there are still any records of your – endeavours – I could, possibly, make them disappear?”

A dry look from grey eyes. “Seriously? Doesn’t just the thought give you heart palpitations?”

“My heart is quite strong enough, thank you very much. It’s not like I’m covering a murderer, and anything you might have done would by now be barred by limitation, anyway.”

“…Okay. I don’t know what that means, but if you say so,” Vi replied.

There was an odd look on her face. After a moment, Caitlyn realized that her hand was still resting on Vi’s shoulder and she quickly stepped away, clearing her throat.

Now the look on her partner’s face definitely had something teasing.

Thankfully Caitlyn was spared the embarrassment of what would probably have been a rambling attempt to change the topic by a young man approaching them. From his age he could have been a waiter, but his embroidered suit marked him as a member of Piltover’s high society. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with short blond hair and some perfectly geometrically trimmed beard stubble.

He indicated a bow, first to Vi and then to Caitlyn. “My ladies. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Caitlyn smiled, gratefully falling back into court pleasantries. She extended her hand for him to shake. “Caitlyn Kiramman.”

She subtly elbowed Vi.

“Pleasure,” Vi huffed.

Another elbow jab.

“Vi. My name. I’m Vi.”

“What a lovely name. I’m Tomas, Tomas Malchanceux,” the man introduced himself. He gave Vi a bright smile full of teeth. “I couldn’t help but notice I haven’t seen you around before. I’m sure I would have remembered: pardon my candour, but you look dashing. Not a face anyone could forget, I’m sure.”

“Why?” Vi demanded.

“Uh,” Tomas faltered, “well, partly because of that daring way you wear your hair. And the…” He indicated his cheek.

“It’s a tattoo.”

“Of course.” A blush had found its way onto Tomas’ cheeks. His fingers started to fidget with his suit before he secured them behind his back. “Uhm, so you are involved with our esteemed new sheriff here?”

Vi’s eyebrows rose. “Yes.”

Involved. Caitlyn quietly mused on how loaded that term was.

Tomas seemed to eagerly pick up on Vi’s affirmative, miniscule though it was. “I thought so! You must be one of the new officers then, Vi. I heard there was a new recruitment initiative planned, from Piltover and the Undercity both. Tell me, Officer Vi…what did you say was your last name?”

Vi’s arms crossed. “I didn’t.”

“…Would you tell me?”

Vi’s eyes sparked dangerously.

Tomas’ gaze darted to Caitlyn, now definitely uncertain, and back to Vi. “So, ahm, there’s musicians about to play,” he started. “I was just wondering if, maybe, you’d like to dance…? I’m not a bad dancer. There’s a new style from Demacia that’s supposed to be all the rage, perhaps you’ve heard of it? Or I could show you…maybe…” he trailed off.

Caitlyn finally decided to come to his rescue, stepping in between him and Vi before her partner did something regrettable.  “I’m sure my friend and I will join you presently. We’re just getting situated. Please, do go on ahead,” she said, gently steering Tomas away from them.

“That…that would be lovely,” he breathed, audibly relieved if not a little embarrassed. He gave a final, overdone bow and retreated, not without shooting one last bashful glance at Vi before he disappeared into the crowd.

Caitlyn turned back and had to restrain herself from laughing out loud as she saw the expression on her partner’s face. She quickly took a mental snapshot of it, adding it to the steadily growing folder in her brain that was Vi. Subheading: ‘Threateningly cute looks’.

She prompted, “Well. There’s your first experience with court and courtship, Vi. But what did we say about murdering people?"

"I didn't do anything to him!"

"I don't know; that was a pretty brutal rejection."

“I don't like it," Vi growled. "He wanted something. I mean, out of the entire crowd, he immediately singles us out as we enter?"

Caitlyn chuckled. "You, ‘Officer Vi’. He singled you out. It looked like he caught a big old crush on you."

"What?" Vi shot her a surprised look, her eyes widening adorably, then snorted and waved her away. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I’m simply observing, my dear."

Vi muttered another "Ridiculous!" under her breath and turned her head, but not before Caitlyn could see the faint red on her cheeks. It matched her dress rather well. Caitlyn spared her the embarrassment of teasing her about it.

“Come on,” she said instead. She linked her arm with Vi’s and pulled her with her. They were drawing a lot of eyes, not just Tomas’. “Let’s go mingle, before you become a beacon for every uncommitted young man and woman in Piltover.”

Okay, maybe she would tease a little.

The chem baron keeps looking around the room. When he isn’t fidgeting with his expensive robe, he is tugging at the tubes running up his throat. Everything about his demeanour suggests that he is on edge, which in turn sets Caitlyn on edge. She hopes that she doesn’t make it quite as obvious as he does.

His goons scattered around the room are not helping. Caitlyn has her own entourage of enforcers with her, though she’d rather that it didn’t come to violence. They don’t have the evidence to convict this particular baron – he is obviously involved in drug trafficking and forced labour venues, but he’s been careful to keep his fingerprints off them. This is just supposed to be a meeting to figure out where they stand. Caitlyn has hoped that they could work out a deal where they both walk away unhappy, but hopefully with fewer casualties than his operation is currently producing. It irks her to her core that she has no better way of dealing with this, but all other legal avenues have yielded no results and this way she can at least save a few lives.

Hopefully.

The baron finally looks at her. Though Caitlyn has gotten used to the disdain that people on this side of the bridge show towards her, she is still taken aback by the force of the emotion in his eyes. It’s not simply the anger of a Zaunite having to deal with a Piltie, but something that feels more personal. Caitlyn tenses up in her chair. Has she overlooked something in his background?

“You think you can just do whatever you want, don’t you?” the baron seethes

“If you find these terms to be unreasonable, I am sure we can…”

“Coming into my home and make nice while you’re undermining me? Threatening me?!” A vein is bulging on his large forehead. “Setting junk-rats to tail me in my own territory?!”

By now Caitlyn is too confused to even hide her confusion anymore. “I don’t know what you’re referencing, but I’m quite sure there has been a misunderstanding…”

Then she notices movement in of the corner of her eye. A familiar flash of pink.

She turns. Much to her surprise she sees Vi, who seems to have just slipped into the room through a side entrance. She is wearing neither her badge nor her gauntlets, having apparently made an effort to look inconspicuous. Caitlyn notes this in the split second before every other soul in the room notices Vi as well and spins around to her. By the reactions of the mobsters, she might as well have entered in an armed chemtank.

“That’s her!” howls the baron, pointing at Vi with one hand and reaching below his desk with the other. His eyes dart between Vi and Caitlyn and her enforcers. “This was a set-up!”

Around the room, his underlings pull out their weapons.

“Shit,” Vi voices across the room.

“Fuck,” Caitlyn agrees. She sends Vi a glare and gets an aggressive shrug in response. So she has taken matters into her own hands and thrown a wrench in Caitlyn’s plans. Again.

Now at least the chem baron’s anger makes sense. Caitlyn turns to make one last attempt at salvaging this with diplomacy, but the furious attacks of the baron’s bodyguard swiftly force her to abandon it in favour of defending herself. Soon all around her chaos erupts.

The fight is short and vicious. Caitlyn earns a few scrapes before her enforcers cluster around her to protect her. Most of the hostile goons are charging at Vi anyway, which quickly reveals itself to be a bad idea even without her gauntlets. In the confusion, the baron escapes through a hidden trapdoor in the floor.

At last Caitlyn manages to climb onto his desk, breaks out her gun and fires a shot into the ceiling to get everyone’s attention. After that, it’s just a matter of convincing the remaining hostiles that they are outmatched and won’t be harmed if they surrender peacefully. Vi knocks out the one brave fool who decides to charge at Caitlyn anyway.

Well, now she can at least charge this baron with assaulting a police officer. That should simplify things.

That way of thinking is more akin to Vi’s than a rule abiding enforcer’s, Caitlyn notes with a touch of resignation. Perhaps she is spending too much time with the brash Zaunite. She envisioned this whole meeting differently.

Vi jogs up to her and sends her a grin that is half-way between satisfied and embarrassed, with a dose of her usual nonchalance mixed in. “That was fun,” she pants.

By rights, Caitlyn should demote her right back down to civilian for this stunt. Or charge her with reckless endangerment. At least reprimand her for engaging a chem baron without her superior’s direct orders. Something.

“I hate to break it to you, Vi, but undercover work is not really your thing,” she says.

“Gotta tell you; I don’t think your ‘not becoming a beacon’-plan is working, Cupcake.”

“That’s hardly my fault, is it?”

They were idly making their way through the room, with Caitlyn stopping every now and then to make small talk or compliment the other guests’ dresses in passing. From what she could see the crowd was about evenly split between Piltovians and guests from other parts of Runeterra, including a few isolated pockets of colour that marked out influential individuals from Zaun who were attending. In the centre of the room a growing circle of dancers had formed. Caitlyn quietly plotted a course through the crowd that would lead them past as many of these foreign guests as possible without seeming to play favours.

However, even while she did so she couldn’t help but notice how the eyes of the people she was talking to would sometimes flick over her shoulder towards her companion, before darting away just as quickly. The sporadic, annoyed huffs coming from behind her told her that Vi was picking up on them as well.

It took all of Caitlyn’s polite upbringing to suppress her knowing smile. She couldn’t deny that she understood the other guests’ impulse very well.

Vi didn’t try to stand out. She just did. Everywhere. Didn’t matter if she was wearing a gorgeous red dress, gauntlets capable of crushing stone or ‘inconspicuous’ streetwear: That mix of confidence, snark, tattoos and pink hair would always be the most eye-catching thing in any room, and nothing could convince Caitlyn otherwise.

Gods, listen to her. She could at least try to pretend like she wasn't completely smitten.

Personally, Caitlyn was long past the point of denying it. She liked Vi. A lot. She was fairly certain that Vi liked her back, too. There had been plenty of looks and touches and lingering moments to support the sheriff’s suspicion. Surely it couldn’t all be in her imagination, could it?

Even though she’d only known the brash, pink-haired Zaunite for a few months, she found she could barely remember a time when Vi hadn’t been around her. Nor imagine a future that she wasn’t a part of. At the beginning Caitlyn had thought that, once the current crisis was over, they might start to explore what that future looked like together. To show Vi all the things that years behind prison bars had denied her; to learn more about the Undercity through her partner; to maybe start mending the massive rifts between the cities and to defy the odds that supposedly made the two of them incompatible.

But then a rocket had been fired at the council and had put paid to any of those plans.

Now, though order had been restored at least in name, they were all still reeling from it. Caitlyn was no exception. She still sometimes found herself waking up in the morning and making her way downstairs, expecting to see her mother fussing over her rifle or a new council agenda. It was like a hole had been abruptly torn into her life and though Caitlyn knew it was there, she still found herself stumbling over it, sometimes falling. In the days after the attack, she had fallen a lot; sometimes succumbing to apathy where she could only stare at the walls of her room, or starting to cry without any concrete trigger.

The only comfort was that Vi hadn’t left her side during that time. When Caitlyn had stayed in her room for hours, she had dragged her out and forced her to do something. When Caitlyn had cried, Vi had held her until her tears were spent. When Caitlyn was boiling over with emotion, Vi had taught her her tried-and-tested valve of punching something.

It was a softer side of the Zaunite and Caitlyn’s heart ached whenever she met Vi’s eyes and saw her own grief reflected back at her. Vi had also lost everything that night. They were holding on to each other for dear life. But whatever relationship had started to form between them before had been put on hold by it. Not that they'd verbally agreed on it or anything, but.

It was better this way.

At least, that was what the Caitlyn from a few weeks ago had told herself. Now she was wondering if she’d simply been a coward.

“You were wrong,” Vi told her.

Caitlyn snapped back and met her partner’s gaze, feeling caught. “I was wrong?”

“I’m not feeling at home. I’m feeling like a street rat in a dress who’s wandered somewhere she shouldn’t be.”

Vi’s words had that clipped quality they only took on when she was forcing them out, like she was afraid they might turn around and hurt her. It was the same tone of voice that had first told Caitlyn about Stillwater. The one that woke the urge in Caitlyn to protect Vi from anything that could make her sound like that.

Not that she would ever say that out loud. Vi hated being coddled.

“There’s nowhere in this town you shouldn’t be,” Caitlyn told her. “And fuck anyone who thinks that.” She scanned their vicinity for people who looked at Vi with hostility, found a group and sent them a challenging glare. She tightened her grip on Vi’s hand and demonstratively pulled them closer together.

Vi tensed up even further.

Caitlyn drew back, surprised. Vi usually was about as far removed from self-conscious as anyone could be. Caitlyn looked at her more closely, trying to catch her eye. “Are you thinking you shouldn’t be here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Hey. There’s no one I’d rather have by my side than you; you know that, right? But if all this makes you uncomfortable, just say the word and we leave.”

Vi gave her a surprised, askance look. “Leave? Isn’t this some really important event? What’ll the fancy people think if you just up and vanish?”

Caitlyn shrugged. At the moment she honestly found it hard to care.

Vi stared at her for a moment longer. Then she grunted and rolled her shoulders, like she would when she got ready for a fight. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It was just… You’re you, and…”

“And?”

“Forget it.”

“…Alright.” Caitlyn knew that tone well enough not to keep pushing. She stepped back from Vi’s space which she hadn’t even realized she’d stepped into, at least not consciously.

She cleared her throat. “By the way, Vi, I for my part think you look stunning. And not just in the usual with your fists-way.”

That got a little chortle out of Vi. Her eyes dipped down for a moment before they rose again to meet Caitlyn’s. “Thanks, I guess? You’re pretty damn easy on the eyes yourself, Cupcake.”

“Charmer.”

“You started it!”

“I suppose I did,” Caitlyn acquiesced, hiding her smile behind her champagne glass.

Vi made a petty point of copying her movement and echoing “I suppose I did!” in a rather exaggerated accent.

They spent another few minutes walking around the room and sipping champagne. Caitlyn occasionally made conversation with the odd elegantly dressed acquaintance that she recognized or praised one of the attending artists’ new paintings. She also spied a few of her enforcers scattered throughout the crowd, keeping an eye on things. They gave her small nods when Caitlyn caught their eyes, confirming all was well.

“Cait!” a voice called from somewhere to their right. Moments later, Caitlyn spied Jayce weaving his way through the crowd towards them. He was wearing a tailored white suit with embroidered cuffs, as well as an obviously relieved expression. "Thank the gods you're here! I was running out of topics to discuss.”

“But of course. Always happy to save your skin,” Caitlyn returned with a grin. “It’s good to see you. I’ve barely heard from you lately.”

“Work. You’re not exactly one to talk, Cait.”

Jayce hugged her, before turning to Vi and offering his hand to her. Vi only hesitated briefly before she shook it.

This gesture had become mercifully less awkward between them, Caitlyn reflected. For a while, the two of them had been working together perfectly cordially, but always with an air of unease between them. From what they had both separately told her of their unsanctioned foray into the Undercity, Caitlyn could see why there would be some distrust. She was just glad that it seemed to be easing off now.

‘Easing off’ in Vi’s case meant teasing. That signature wide smirk was already on her face. She looked Jayce up and down, making no attempt to hide the fact, and Caitlyn could see him getting flustered under the scrutiny.

Vi gave an appreciative nod: “Looking dashing there, pretty boy.”

“…That was the goal,” Jayce confirmed, sounding very embarrassed indeed. “It seems to do the job. Though I could return the compliment, Vi.”

“Thanks. I miss my pockets.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Glad you two found something to commiserate over,” Caitlyn commented. “How are things going here? Do you need me to take care of anybody?”

“Well,” Jayce said, scratching his chin in thought – or perhaps exasperation – “I think I’ve got the locals charmed enough. The merchant delegation from Bilgewater have been talking around our requests the entire evening – trying to drive up their prices, I’m sure – so if you think you can squeeze them a bit, be my guest.

“Meanwhile the Demacian ambassador ‘accidentally’ spilled wine on the Noxian ambassador and almost started a war, but it seems to have deescalated for now.

“And as for the Zaunites…” he gestured to the groups of colourful individuals scattered across the room, “I honestly have no idea what they’re about, but based on the dirty looks they keep sending my way, I doubt I’m the most qualified person to find out.”

“I wonder why,” Vi said drily.

Caitlyn sent her an ease off look. To Jayce she said, “I’ll see what I can do about it, and I’ll talk to the merchants. If I understand the situation, we just need to keep everybody happy for now until Mel gets to them and works her magic.”

“I hate politics.”

“Said the politician.”

Jayce threw Vi a dirty look of his own. “Temporary politician. Elections for the open council seats are scheduled in two months and as soon as the last vote is cast you won’t find me anywhere near a position of power ever again.”

Caitlyn felt a sudden painful stab at the mention of the council seats. It still felt wrong not to think of her mother as one of them; like seeing a familiar room distorted in a mirror. It was disorienting. Caitlyn had briefly considered running for the seat herself as way to honour her mother’s memory, but had abandoned the idea after a few days of soul-searching and a long talk with her father. Politics was not her world, even less than Jayce’s, and she felt she could do more good wearing a uniform.

From the sudden animated way that Jayce and Vi were talking with each other, Caitlyn could tell that they had picked up on her reaction and the reason for it. They knew her too well.

Vi was asking about Jayce’s activities, with a thinly veiled innuendo towards his girlfriend swinging in her question. Jayce pretended not to notice and gave her the account of his day, including a very detailed description of some sort of new protective gear he and Victor were developing. It was maliciously designed to bore Vi to tears. Caitlyn watched them go at it until the pain in her chest had receded to a dull ache and she felt ready to join back in the conversation.

“Speaking of Mel; where is she, anyway?”

Jayce turned and gestured to a larger group further at the back of the room. At first Caitlyn couldn’t see anything, but then one of the taller men on the outskirts of the group shifted and she caught a glimpse of the woman who, for the moment, was effectively running Piltover. Mel had her back to Caitlyn, seemingly in a debate with two of the people around her. She was wearing a sky-blue dress without adornments; so understated that it made her stand out all the more. From this distance, the high neckline almost completely concealed the burn scars on her back.

“She seems to have things in hand.”

“Yes, she does,” Jayce affirmed, sounding utterly besotted. Vi made an unsubtle gagging noise behind his back.

“Let’s contribute,” Caitlyn resolved.

She steered them both towards an individual wearing the rich colours of Bilgewater and spun up a conversation. As was the workings of these events, it soon attracted a small group of their own. Jayce put on a smile, seemingly effortlessly slipping back into flattery and diplomacy. Caitlyn was sure she was the only one who picked up on the effort it took him, but then she had known him since she was little.

Jayce introduced her to the other guests, not all of whom had met the freshly-baked sheriff before. He then shot a glance at Vi, making a silent request and, when no objection came, he pulled her into their circle.

“This is…”

“I’m Matilda!” Vi interrupted cheerfully. Her lips pulled up in a wide smile that Caitlyn almost believed was genuine. “I’m a work acquaintance of Mr. Talis here. But I usually work for the lovely Lady Kiramman. What an absolute pleasure to meet you!”

Caitlyn was fairly certain that the consternated look on Jacye’s face was mirrored perfectly on her own.

Thankfully the other guests – one of whom turned out to be the Demacian ambassador – were too busy embracing the enthusiastic welcome and returning the smile to notice. “The pleasure is all ours, Lady Matilda... May I ask your family name?”

Vi giggled – giggled! – and waved the ambassador away. “Oh, you can just call me Matilda; I’m not one to brag with status. That’s what the sheriff calls me, too.” Vi nudged Caitlyn. “Right, Lady Kiramman?”

“Uh, yes. That’s right.” Caitlyn sent Vi a what the hell are you doing?!-look, but only received that unsettlingly bright smile in return. She tried for one as well as she turned to their audience. “Matilda does indeed work for me. But normally she isn’t so – affable.”

“I find that hard to believe,” said the ambassador. “If I may say so, Matilda, you have certainly been turning heads here.”

“Oh, this old thing?” Vi twirled her dress for show. “I have to confess, I personally don’t have any sense of fashion. My dear sheriff picked it out for me. She has such taste!”

That prompted a few comments of agreement in Caitlyn’s direction. Caitlyn fervently hoped her growing blush wasn’t too visible. She managed a nod in response.

“What is your position in the enforcers?” one of the guests asked, visibly interested. “The sheriff has certainly been hiding you.”

“Well…”

Vi interrupted, “Oh, not at all! I’m actually her public liaison, if you can believe it. Yeah, I’m interacting with all kinds of folk. The sheriff does like to compliment me for my people skills, you know. But obviously they are nowhere near as refined as those of you fine people.”

She was really laying it on thick now. It seemed to be working on some of her audience, but Caitlyn could tell that Vi’s cheeriness was starting to make at least the ambassador a bit uncomfortable.

“…Thank you very much. Anyway,” he stated, “it has been a pleasure chatting with you, Lady Matilda. Unfortunately, I must confer with your lovely Lady Medarda tonight…concerning matters of state. Hopefully we’ll get a chance to talk more later…”

“Oh, I’m certain of it. Such a pleasure! See you later!”

Vi continued waving after him until Caitlyn grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away. When they were a safe distance away, Caitlyn rounded on her. "What in Janna’s name was that?!"

"I don't know. I thought I’d give it a shot.” Much to Caitlyn’s relief, that unsettling smile was slipping from Vi’s face. A full body shudder went through her. "That felt so gross! Who the fuck is Matilda?!"

Caitlyn shook her head in disbelief. “I have no idea, but based on that interaction, I’m not sure whether I should get to know her or run as far away as possible.”

“You told me to socialize!”

“As yourself! Not as this Matilda creature.”

Vi crossed her arms, looking hurt. “Well I’m sorry that my social persona isn’t good enough for you, Ms. Kiramman. Next time, why don’t you write me some fancy note cards since my manners are obviously not fit for your company?”

“Vi, that’s not what I…” Caitlyn stopped herself short when she caught the grin hiding underneath Vi’s hurt expression. “You are impossible, you know that?”

“I know it very well. And so did you before you invited me here. This is on you, Cupcake.”

Touché. Caitlyn gave Vi a look, irritation fighting with fondness in her chest. Faced with the mischievous grin that was now openly breaking over her partner’s face, fondness was winning out.

As it always seemed to.

Caitlyn doesn’t think they’ve ever had this bad of a fight.

She is fuming.

“I specifically, specifically told you to lay low!”

“Caitlyn, they were openly fucking threatening you! What did you expect me to do; just stand by?!”

“Yes! Anything but what you did would have been preferable. Now you’ve gone and made enemies of one of the most influential families in Piltover!”

“Instead of them sending a hitman to your apartment if you don’t stop asking questions about their business? Yeah, I’ll take that trade.”

Caitlyn takes a deep breath. “The Vanns were bluffing, Vi. I’m the daugh- I’m the friend of a councillor, and an enforcer. It would cause too many waves if something happened to me.”

Vi shakes her head. “That was no bluff. Maybe you can’t tell the difference, but I can. If someone like that, with that much money, sees you as a threat and wants you dead, they’ll find a way to get it done. It always goes like that.”

“It does not. And even if you were right; how is your little escapade supposed to have helped? Now it’s you on the Vanns’ radar instead of me. Don’t you realize how dangerous that is for you?!”

“Nothing about my life has ever been safe. But now they know what happens if they go after me and mine. That’s the only way this works; threat and counter threat.”

“That’s not how we do things, Vi!”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the real world, Cupcake.”

Caitlyn takes a step towards her, furious. Images of a flying rocket and a burning building flash behind her eyelids and she feels tears gathering. Her voice comes out strangled when she demands, “Did you really just say that to me?”

Vi has the decency to look guilty. For the first time this argument she averts her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she mutters. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Get out.”

“Cait…”

“I said, get the fuck out!”

Vi turns heel and does so. She doesn’t look at Caitlyn as she stomps out the door. The lock clicks shut behind her.

Caitlyn is breathing heavily. Her shoulders are tense and her hands are balled into fists, ready for a fight. She wants to hit something. Or run through the streets screaming. Anything to get this searing weight off her chest.

Damn her.

It’s still early in the evening. Caitlyn tries to busy herself with paperwork, but only finds limited success. Her thoughts keep drifting away: to her mother’s laugh; to the burning council building; to Vi sitting on piles of rubble, pressing a blood-soaked cloth to her leg. Underneath her anger, the dread that this situation might end similarly or worse rears in Caitlyn’s mind. She has lost count of how many times Vi has gotten injured since they met.

‘I’ll take that trade,’ Vi’s voice echoes in her head.

With an angry growl Caitlyn sweeps away the sheets of paper in front of her, barely registering how they float to the floor. She can take care of herself! Why does Vi insist on risking her own neck time and time again? Why can’t she understand that she is in so much more danger here in Piltover than Caitlyn is?

No, Vi does understand. She just doesn’t care. Self-preservation ranks very low on her list of priorities. Caitlyn picked up on that at their first meeting in Stillwater, but since Jinx’s attack and vanishing it has gotten even worse. Vi is running hot all the time, not caring that she runs herself into the ground in the process.

And Caitlyn…Caitlyn is afraid. Vi is brash, hasty and doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut sometimes, but Caitlyn doesn’t want her to get hurt. She doesn’t want to lose her. She doesn’t know what she’d do if that happened. Nor does she want to think about it.

She won’t let it happen. Where was that one suspicious shipping manifest…?

Only hours later, when Caitlyn stands from her chair with cracking joints, her mind making the final connections between the implicating documents and the possible threads she can pull on, does she realize that her focus has shifted: When she started investigating the Vanns, she was trying to put a stop to their illicit business dealings; perhaps aim for a fine or even jail if the evidence was damning enough. Now, what is taking shape in her mind is a plan to not only discredit the family, but dismantle their operation so completely that they will not be able to harm her or the person she cares about ever again.

It’s a goal born from the lowest and most personal of reasons, but Caitlyn finds that it doesn’t particularly faze her. She can’t shake the feeling that by doing this she is cutting out an infection and that it won’t only help them, but Piltover as a whole.

There’s a moment where she wonders whether she would have done it had the circumstances been different.

Caitlyn looks out the window. On the opposite side of the street she spies a flash of pink amidst the growing darkness: Vi is sitting propped up against the building, huddled in a bunch of blankets. She’s facing Caitlyn’s apartment and the alley adjoining it. Keeping an eye, Caitlyn realizes with a jolt of her stomach.

Damn her.

Her moment of deliberation lasts for only a few seconds. Then Caitlyn walks to the front door and steps out. Across the way Vi raises her head, their eyes meeting.

“Is there any way I can persuade you to go home and leave this alone, Vi?”

“No.”

Caitlyn nods. She cracks open the door a little further and beckons.

“Then at least come in, before you catch a cold.”

One day Vi infuriated Caitlyn and the next she made Caitlyn want to kiss her. Often it was both in the same day. Sometimes in the same minute. Caitlyn didn't understand how she could be swept away like that; she usually had better control of her emotions.

"Cupcake?"

Even that damn nickname. Against every protestation from Caitlyn it had stuck and now she had to admit that she’d even grown fond of it. Just a little bit.

She returned her attention to Vi, who had just completed another interaction with one of the party guests. The last few conversations had mercifully been less extravagant than Matilda’s, but Caitlyn could tell by the barely hidden grimace on Vi’s face that her partner wasn’t enjoying them nearly as much.

“Yes?”

“If one more person asks me about my last name, I’m throwing hands. Why does my family matter so much to you people?”

Caitlyn shrugged by way of apology. “It’s just custom in Piltover. The name of one’s clan carries a high esteem and informs people of the trustworthiness of who they are dealing with. At least that is the perception. So if you tell them that you don’t have a family name – well, it’s surprising to them. Most Piltovians don’t have much contact with Zaun.”

“Speaking from experience there, aren’t you? Well, Vander never bothered with a family name and I never missed it.”

"You could consider adopting one. Only if you wanted to, of course.”

Vi snorted. "Yeah, that's not happening. I can do without some guy addressing me as Lady Fancypants or whatever. Besides, your last name is plenty big enough for the both of us, Cupcake."

Caitlyn's heart seemed to skip a beat. She searched Vi's expression intently.

Vi looked back puzzled. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No." Caitlyn turned away. Vi hadn't meant it like that. She was probably wholly unaware of what she had just implied. Caitlyn convinced herself that the churning feeling in her chest wasn’t disappointment.

This had been a pattern for a while now: Vi saying something flirtatious, Caitlyn getting hopeful, and then nothing happening. At first Caitlyn had resigned herself to believing that it was indeed nothing and that she was mixing up hope with reality.

However, since she had spent most of her days in Vi’s company and gotten to know her better, Caitlyn had become less certain of that. She had come to know what Vi looked like when she was happy, when she was flirty and when she was scared. And sometimes when their eyes met in these moments, it almost seemed to be all of the above.

How long are you going to work with hypotheses here? scolded her inner voice, not for the first time. It was starting to sound more and more like her mother. Eventually you’ll have to commit and get to the heart of the matter. What are you hoping will happen if you keep waiting?

Waiting for others to make the first move was usually a good tactic. Caitlyn had always favoured patience over rushing into things. But there came a point where patience turned into stalling. Caitlyn was not a woman who stalled. She knew what she wanted and if necessary she fought tooth and nail to get it.

She just needed to apply that approach to this relationship.

She would, Caitlyn resolved. She would ask, as soon as an opportunity presented itself. No matter that this would be much scarier than any case she’d ever investigated.

For now, she applied herself to guiding Vi through her next social interactions, jumping in whenever she could feel her partner’s temper beginning to flair. Vi continued to try her hand at small talk, albeit through increasingly gritted teeth. Nonetheless it was good to see her trying and, if Caitlyn was honest with herself, it was even better to know that she was doing it mostly for Caitlyn’s sake. It felt nice. It gave her some confidence that she wasn’t completely on the wrong track.

The party as a whole was now slowly moving away from the conversations and was drifting towards the bar and the dance floor respectively. A tipsy-looking Noxian drifted past them calling, “Have a pleasant evenin’, ladiesh,” before hugging a balking Demacian nobleman.

"You too," they both called back. Caitlyn glanced at her partner and had to keep from laughing as she saw the extremely pained smile grazing Vi's lips. "See? Not so bad, is it?" she prompted her.

Vi responded by shooting Caitlyn a miserable look. "How long is this party thing, again?"

"A few more hours." Caitlyn couldn't quite keep the glee out of her voice.

"I need a drink," Vi decided.

"You’ve had a few already. But ask one of the servers nicely and they’ll get you another one," Caitlyn instructed.

"Screw that." Vi indignantly puffed out her chest. "I'm going to the bar like everyone else. The bar tender can't refuse me my alcohol."

"Come on, don't be a spoilsport. I didn't think you'd go for the easy way out." Caitlyn grinned. "Besides, I'm enjoying watching you in this environment."

Or just watching you.

Thankfully Caitlyn hadn’t drunken enough champagne to let the last part spill out loud, but by the way Vi’s eyes narrowed she wasn’t sure whether it hadn’t been apparent in her tone, anyway. Caitlyn lifted the glass of champagne to her lips, choosing to pretend that the tingling sensation in her face was coming from the drink. This was not stalling, she told herself. Just implying. Vi had no right to complain about that.

All the better, because she could feel Vi looking right through her from the side.

"I bet you do, Cupcake. But just because you’ve forced me to be here doesn’t mean I will suffer it sober. You'll have to make do without me for a minute."

Thus she set off towards her new target. Caitlyn briefly debated to follow her, but then decided against it. It might come off as clingy and if Vi could find her sea legs in high society anywhere, it was probably over a drink. Over the crowd Caitlyn watched the red dress and pink hair push through to the counter and hail the bar tender, apparently unaware of the varyingly drunken gazes following her.

Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice that she was moving much more confidently in the dress now. It would still be shoved right back in Caitlyn’s wardrobe later, she knew, but for now she could enjoy the spectacle. With a fond smile she took another sip of champagne.

“She’s doing well,” said Mel’s voice from beside Caitlyn. The councillor seemed to have disentangled herself from her permanent entourage and made her way over to them. Her chin dipped into a nod towards Vi. “You bring out the more elegant side of her.”

“It’s more like wrestling it out,” Caitlyn replied, though it came out more fond than anything. “But it’s worth it. You can’t deny she stands out.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone is arguing that.” Mel sent her a meaningful look. “I wouldn’t blame a lady for spending the whole evening in her company.”

Caitlyn blushed. “It wasn’t the whole evening,” she defended herself. In an immediate betrayal of that statement, her gaze drifted back over to her partner. Vi had received whatever liquid she had ordered and was now animatedly talking to someone over it. Her features looked relaxed.

The woman she was talking to was a slender brunette with a sharp, angular face that looked beautiful even from a distance. The pistol and baton hanging from her hip betrayed her as one of the plain-clothed enforcers that were mingling among the guests for protection. Jayce and Caitlyn had had a discussion about this the day before. He thought that it would present the wrong image to the foreign dignitaries attending, but Caitlyn had insisted. Paranoia was a valid counterpoint at any other time, but not making sure of security in their current situation would have been nothing short of complacent.

Caitlyn reminded herself of that as she watched the enforcer pass a bottle over to Vi. Caitlyn didn’t recognize the woman. She usually made a point of knowing every one of her people by name, even though she’d only had the top job for a few weeks. That she didn’t know this one’s bothered her. Or maybe it was the casual way the woman was leaning into Vi’s space, smiling as she did so.

Yes, it was probably that. Especially considering the hand that was unabashedly creeping towards Vi’s on the countertop…

“You’re not alone in having rubbed off on Vi, Cait. That look on your face right now could frighten off a Frostguard.”

Caitlyn made an effort to turn her attention towards Jayce. “Excuse me?” she demanded, more sharply than she’d intended.

Jayce raised his hands in a gesture of placation. “I’m just saying.”

Mel gave him a light flick on the arm. “That’s why you leave the talking to me, dear. Obviously he just meant that you’ve grown into the part of sheriff, Caitlyn. You’ve got the smarts, the authority, and lately I’ve been seeing that extra little bit of ferocity from our friend.” Mel smiled enigmatically. “Perhaps she’s bringing out that side of you.”

Caitlyn blinked. She hadn’t looked at it that way before. She liked to think that she’d had a fiercer side before she’d ever met Vi in Stillwater.

But listening to Mel, she had to admit that Vi might have inspired her to use it more often. Something Caitlyn had learned from her was that diplomacy was great, but sometimes it wasn’t what was needed – sometimes Vi was more successful with her direct approach.

“Perhaps,” she allowed, skirting around the subject. “I’m trying to draw wisdom from many different people to do my job. That’s what a good sheriff should do, no?”

“It suits you. More than a couple of our guests have informed me that they feel much safer having talked with you. They like that someone’s taking the reins, bringing the Undercity under control again.”

Caitlyn bristled at that. “You know that control is not what I am aiming for, Mel.”

“I know. They are not my words.” Mel sent her a look and lowered her voice. “One step at a time. It’s going to take a while before people can think in terms like ‘cooperation’ with Zaun again, and you know that.”

“You can,” Caitlyn vented her frustration. If someone as immediately hurt as Mel could reach out her hand across the river, she could see no valid excuse for anyone else not to.

“I’ve been performing diplomacy since before I could talk. I know when to pick a fight and when to bury the hatchet. You must forgive a people who felt under attack for not forgiving so quickly.”

Mel’s smile remained on her face, but had taken on a sharper edge. In a certain light it appeared like that of a predator. Caitlyn was once again reminded that she might trust this woman on certain things, but should never do so blindly. With Mel Medarda’s charm and smiles, that was sometimes easy to forget. She certainly hadn’t forgotten her near-death experience at the hands of a Zaunite.

Caitlyn pointed out, “Zaun has felt under attack by us for at least as long, Mel. There is ample reason for them to hate us.” She nodded over towards the bar. “Vi has more reason to want to burn everything down than most, but she doesn’t. She has put more effort into rebuilding than anyone.”

“As have you, Caitlyn.” Mel began tapping at her empty glass; a gesture which, as Caitlyn had learned, indicated her working out how to approach a subject. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, actually. You and Vi have had a lot of successes lately, but they are not reflected elsewhere in the enforcers. When one of your officers ventures below the surface, they’re still very likely to be greeted with hostility – and most seem inclined to reciprocate that hostility.”

“Unfortunate, but true,” Caitlyn admitted, trying to gauge what the other woman was getting at. As sheriff, she was more than aware of this problem.

Mel lowered her voice. “I don’t want to interfere in your business, Caitlyn, but I was thinking of proposing a new initiative. We should hire a new wave of enforcers whose views are not quite so entrenched. Including some from the Undercity.”

Caitlyn nodded in agreement. When she’d still been a detective she had proposed something similar, but had been denied. “I’m preparing something like that. It’s not easy, since we can’t just hire more enforcers without it looking like an escalation on our part. I also can’t start firing the old guard blindly. I’m still going through the files to get an idea who of my people are more part of the problem than the solution. But once I’ve got a grasp on that, I agree; new blood is badly needed.”

“Good. And I propose that Vi should be the one training that new blood once it comes in.”

Caitlyn coughed in surprise. That suggestion was not one she had considered. Not least because of the resistance it would encounter from everyone involved. “I’m not sure Vi would want that,” she stated.

“Probably not, but that is of secondary concern. If anyone can talk her into it, it’s you, Caitlyn. We need someone with her viewpoint, her street experience. Who better to train new officers on sensibilities for Zaunite culture, on spotting problems and on de-escalation of force and such things?”

Caitlyn couldn’t help but chuckle. If she used phrases like that, Vi would look at her like she was insane. ‘De-escalation’ was certainly not the first thing people thought of when they saw Vi.

But from hat Caitlyn had seen, she did have a knack for it, even though she might not be aware of it. Caitlyn glanced over to where Vi was sitting, wondering how her partner would react if she brought it up. Even though she had been grudgingly working alongside the enforcers for months, this was going one step further and Caitlyn had the suspicion that she would not take it well.

Mel picked up on her hesitance. She put a hand on Caitlyn’s arm and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll broach it to her. I’ve been meaning to congratulate her on her work anyway; I might as well suggest applying her skills to even greater effect.”

Caitlyn smiled drily as Mel glided past her towards the bar. “Flattery does not work on Vi.”

Mel gave her a meaningful glance over the shoulder. “Perhaps from me it doesn’t. We’ll see. Enjoy the party, Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn looked after her retreating back, internally torn whether she should follow and intervene on the conversation. On the one hand, she hated how easily the other woman was able to read her. Especially her relationship with Vi, which was already complicated enough and frankly nobody else’s business. Evidently Mel was not above playing that to her advantage.

On the other hand, as was so often the case, the woman did have a point. Vi would be a good influence on the enforcers, if Caitlyn could get both sides to accept that.

Pondering, she looked over to her partner. Mel was approaching Vi and the brunette woman she was sitting with, both of whom looked too engrossed in their conversation to notice. That was a feat in and of itself, since Mel did not easily go unnoticed.

But Vi’s eyes were firmly trained on the other enforcer’s. She laughed at something the woman said. It was her boisterous, dirty laugh that Caitlyn could have recognized in a crowd of thousands, and it stirred a possessive desire in her. She wanted to be the one who made Vi laugh like that. Quietly she considered ordering the enforcer to leave the hall and guard the perimeter or something.

Then Caitlyn shook her head, chuckling at her own jealousy. What was she so worried about? That Vi would run off with the other enforcer? Vi was mature enough to know what she wanted. Choosing wine and a good laugh over small talk was very her. That didn’t mean there was anything more there. If Vi wanted to start a fling with one of her colleagues, she could have done so months ago.

Instead she still chose to spend most her evenings with Caitlyn. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

Caitlyn was glad that her partner could loosen up a little in this environment and she decided to let Vi enjoy it for a while. She started searching the crowd for where Jayce had disappeared to. This was as good a time as any to catch up on that ‘experimental protective gear’ he had hinted at. She spied his head poking up amongst a crowd of laughing scholars and started to make her way there, trying to remember a good science joke to introduce herself.

Then she stopped.

Caitlyn wasn’t sure what it was that made her turn back towards the bar. Maybe it was the flicker of sudden movement she had caught out of the corner of her eye. Maybe it was the glint of something reflecting the candlelight in a way that was too sharply focused to be glass. Maybe it was the feeling of something nagging at the back of her mind that suddenly sent a chill down her back and made her hairs stand on end.

Whatever the case, she turned just in time to see the brunette woman leap up from her chair and stab a knife at Vi’s neck.

Time seemed to slow in the way it usually only did in nightmares. Caitlyn’s body was moving before her mind could even comprehend what was going on, but her limbs seemed to move only sluggishly and she was impossibly far away. She watched Vi move at the last second and the knife that was aiming for her throat instead embedded itself deep into her shoulder. She gave a cry of pain and tried to grab her attacker with her other hand, but only grasped empty air.

Caitlyn was 30 feet away. The brunette dodged away from Vi, kicking the chair out from under her and reaching for her belt in the same motion. The first bystanders were starting to turn around to see what the commotion was. Mel stood frozen a few feet from it, her glass held forgotten in her hand.

Seeing the attacker’s movement, Caitlyn instinctually reached behind her back for a rifle that wasn’t there. She had no weapons on her tonight.

She was 20 feet away. The brunette un-holstered her enforcer pistol and pointed it at Mel. Now Caitlyn could see her eyes, narrowed to focussed slits. A shot rang out. The people around them recoiled, many only now realizing what was happening. Any one of them might be the next target.

12 feet. The brunette saw her approaching and swung the barrel of the pistol around to her. With no cover in reach, Caitlyn went into a dive at an angle to hopefully present a more difficult target. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mel falling.

A second shot. Caitlyn came up to see Vi tackling the brunette and them tumbling to the floor. Vi ended up on top and tried to pin the other woman’s arms to the floor. Steel flashed.

Caitlyn scrambled towards them. After a short struggle she managed to wrestle the pistol out of the brunette’s hand. Her practised fingers slipped into the trigger and she pointed the barrel at the woman. In the same moment Vi’s fist came down hard on her temple once, twice. The attacker’s head lolled to the side, her body going limp. A knife that Caitlyn hadn’t noticed before clattered from her other hand.

Around them chaos erupted. Screams and running feet replaced the faltering musicians. Caitlyn kept clutching the pistol, barely noticing. Her eyes searched and found Vi’s. Are you alright?!

Vi gave a pained grunt. Her knees still rested on the other woman’s wrists, her hands balled into tight fists. Blood was running down her left shoulder. She gave Caitlyn the briefest of nods.

Caitlyn’s hands began to shake as the shock finally caught up to her. With a fumbling finger she secured the pistol. Her training came back to her and she started to scan their surroundings, casting about for further threats. Without consciously thinking about it she moved to shield Vi’s body with her own.

She couldn’t see any other attackers.  Around them a wide space had cleared as everyone who wasn’t directly affected struggled to get away from the danger. A few were still screaming.

Only a handful of people were moving closer: the rest of Caitlyn’s plain-clothed enforcers, all of whom had now drawn their guns. Caitlyn quickly scanned their faces, her own weapon still half-raised. A sigh of relief escaped her when she recognized every one of them. They formed a protective ring around them, looking outward.

A few feet away, Mel was struggling to sit up on her elbows. Her face was ashen pale and she looked pained, but alive.  Jayce was by her side, worrying over the bullet-sized hole in her dress, right over the sternum. Where it should have revealed skin, Caitlyn could make out a row of blackened, bent mail rings. The bullet hadn’t made it past them.

Caitlyn fought down a manic laugh. Experimental protective gear. Of course Jayce would push it on Mel first. She was just surprised that Mel went with it. Surprised, but mostly very relieved. Without Jayce’s oddly prudent measure there would have been yet another death on Caitlyn’s watch. She wouldn’t have been able to stop it.

The sound of running, heavy boots penetrated the silence that had fallen over the hall. The armoured enforcers from the entrance had made their way into the hall and pushed their way through the crowd towards them. Caitlyn forced her body to relax. The danger seemed to be over. She gave Vi a nudge.

Vi reluctantly let go of the unconscious brunette, handing her over to the enforcers. Their eyes met once more and did their by now familiar dance to reassure each other that they were alive. Vi accepted Caitlyn’s hand to help her up. As she did so, she grunted and pressed a hand to her stomach.

Caitlyn immediately zeroed in on it. The red dress there was stained a slightly darker colour and when Vi moved it revealed a cut in the fabric and the skin underneath. It must have happened during her tumble with the attacker.

“Vi!”

Vi waved her away, her grunts taking on an annoyed tone now. “Relax, it’s not deep. Just a flesh wound.”

She was probably right, but Caitlyn couldn’t very well just stand by and watch her bleed, could she? She knelt to inspect the wound. Calling over her shoulder, she ordered, “There has to be a doctor somewhere in here. Go find them!”

“Geez, Cait, you act like I’m bleeding out. I’ve been through worse.”

“I know,” Caitlyn pointed out with a tone of voice that would hopefully quell any argument. “And for some reason I keep stitching you back together. Hold still!”

“Where is she?!”

Caitlyn is too upset to even specify who she means, but then she doesn’t really need to. A woman in a hardhat who seems to be the forewoman steps up and points somewhere towards the piles of rubble behind her. Her expression is hard, but becomes slightly less distrustful at the sight of Caitlyn’s uniform. Caitlyn mutters a thanks and walks past her, conscious of the gazes that follow her as she hurries on.

She’s not supposed to be here. She’s supposed to patrol the other side of town, in fact. There is tension in the air everywhere and any small confrontation has the potential to turn violent – that’s why every single enforcer is out in force today, as they have been for days. Caitlyn has her own duties to fulfil, to keep people safe.

But when she heard the news of a mob confronting a Zaunite woman in the city centre, none of that mattered anymore. Caitlyn couldn’t have stopped her legs from running here even if she’d wanted to.

It’s not long before she reaches what used to be the central plaza. Half of it is still covered by the dome of the destroyed council chamber, the pavement cracked where it has fallen. People are attempting to clear the rubble; half of them workers, half civilians who are trying to help. There are no conversations. Despite all the people there is an eerie silence hanging over the space, only broken by the clatter of stone and the occasional arcs of blue electricity that spark from the rubble: whatever Jinx has fired at the Council, its physical aftereffects still linger. Caitlyn takes care to avoid them.

She spies the throng of enforcers before she sees Vi herself. Her friend sits in their middle, hunched over on a pile of bricks and pressing her torn shirt against her upper leg. The white fabric has turned an ugly crimson.

Vi looks up as she approaches and gives a tired, wry grin. “Hey, Cupcake. Fancy meeting you here.”

Caitlyn throws her arms around her neck. She doesn’t even care about the mutters of the other enforcers around her, or about Vi’s slightly pained grunt as she brushes her leg. It’s a visceral reaction; a need to confirm that Vi is still here, that she hasn’t left her, too.

“Cait.” Vi is doing her best to sound impatient, but Caitlyn can feel her hugging back just as tight. “Seriously, I’m fine. Just some assholes venting at the first Zaunite they saw. Your friends took care of it.”

Caitlyn pulls away. The relief that has flooded her system flips over into hot anger. “Who did this?” she demands of the other enforcers.

They exchange glances. One replies, “We’re not sure who started it. It was group of six or seven and by the time we got here fists were already flying.” A glance at Vi. “This one did some damage of her own before we could separate them.”

“Did you get their names?”

“Cupcake.” A hand on her arm, trying to get her to back off. “Just leave it. I knew this could happen and I can take it.”

“That doesn’t make it right! People can’t just assault you because of who you are. There are still laws!”

The captain of the enforcers butts in: “With respect, Ms. Kiramman, we don’t have the time or the men to prosecute a bunch of frightened citizens right now. Once things have calmed down, both sides are free to file a complaint.”

“Great.” Vi gets to her feet, wincing as she does. “Will definitely do that. Can I go now?”

“Depends.” The captain looks at Vi, and then to Caitlyn. “Can you vouch for her?”

“Vouch for…Yes, I do,” Caitlyn catches herself. Inwardly she is fuming, but she puts on her best impression of a polite smile. “This won’t happen again.”

They leave the plaza, Caitlyn supporting Vi as she staggers on one leg. She needs to get her to a hospital, and if she has to drag Vi there against her will. On the way Vi tries to crack some jokes so lighten the mood, but her voice is just tight enough to betray that she is not taking it as lightly as she plays it up. She did get seriously wounded. She was just trying to help and this is the thanks.

“None of this is right,” Caitlyn mutters, more to herself than to Vi.

“Agreed. Though the way you’re worrying, one would think it was you who got stabbed and not me.”

Caitlyn catches Vi’s eyes. She forces a smile. “If you lack self-preservation, it’s my job to take care of you. That’s how this works.”

She doesn’t tell Vi how her soul had nearly left her body when she heard she’d been hurt. She doesn’t tell her how she could have murdered her colleagues back there for suggesting that Vi was somehow at fault for this. She doesn’t tell her how relieved she was to see her alive, because as bad as their double-standard is; if Vi had encountered a different batch of enforcers they might have simply finished where the attackers left off. And Caitlyn can’t bear the thought of waking up in that reality.

As an officer and a human being, Caitlyn is supposed to care about everyone equally, but she doesn’t. Right in this moment the city could burn down around her and she wouldn’t care as long as she could keep this woman safe.

She doesn’t tell her that, either.

It was in moments like these that Caitlyn was very glad for the days she had spent as a child watching her father at work. She had always taken more after her mother, but a few things about his calm and precision when dealing with patients had rubbed off nonetheless.

“Ouch!”

Caitlyn pulled back to inspect her work, satisfied. She had finished dressing Vi’s wound, which had turned out to be the easier part. The harder was ignoring Vi’s constant protests that she should ‘stop fussing!’ without retorting that Vi had just been stabbed twice and dealing with that could not reasonably be described as ‘fussing’, could it?!

“And that’s it. Good as new.”

“Why am I always the one getting stabbed, anyway?”

“A good question. You should ponder it sometime,” Caitlyn suggested.

(There was no bite to it. Vi’s tendency to throw herself at trouble to protect others drove Caitlyn up the wall with worry on occasion, but she could never be mad at her for it.)

She added, “Thank you. If you hadn’t stopped her…”

“There’d be a hole in you,” Vi finished for her. It had the cadence of a joke, but couldn’t quite mask the apprehension underneath.

“Indeed.” Caitlyn pressed her palm to Vi’s uninjured shoulder, the touch lingering for a moment. “Thank you.”

Vi’s smile was soft. “I got your back, Cupcake.”

The temptation to stay right as they were – or lean in closer – was very real, but after another moment Caitlyn pulled away. This was not the time or the setting for it. Later. There was still a crisis to deal with.

Around them the gala now more closely resembled an active crime scene. The enforcers had cordoned off their part of the room, leaving the guests standing in groups a good distance away and whispering amongst themselves. A group of enforcers was restraining the assassin, who had come back to consciousness but hadn’t said a word or attempted to flee. A few feet away there was a crack in the marble where her second shot had missed Caitlyn and hit the floor. A doctor was checking on Mel, who seemed to have some pain breathing but was otherwise unharmed. Meanwhile, while Caitlyn was busy, Jayce had taken charge and ordered a search of the building, just in case there were other surprises waiting. Jinx’ special brand of delayed explosives had made them all wary of such things.

Caitlyn suspected they wouldn’t find any, however. This didn’t have the hallmarks of something that would originate from Zaun. This felt different.

With Vi by her side she approached the assassin. The brunette raised her head to meet her gaze, unflinching. Her eyes were a pale grey and almost emotionless. There was no trace of the restrained emotions or raw hate that Caitlyn had come to know from her encounters with Zaunites; strengthening Caitlyn’s suspicion.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why did you try to kill councilwoman Medarda? Why now?”

The other woman’s cheek twitched at the mention of Mel’s name. Otherwise her face remained motionless.

“How did you get an enforcer’s uniform? Did you kill one of my people?”

No response.

Vi audibly cracked her knuckles. “Not the talkative type anymore, I guess. Want me to rough her up a bit?”

Before Caitlyn could object, Mel made herself heard from behind them. Her voice was hoarse, but to her credit it was shaking only slightly: “There’s no need. I think I have an idea what this is about.”

They turned to her. Mel looked slightly paler than usual – more from anger than fear, if Caitlyn was any judge. Jayce was hovering by her side, but she waved him away impatiently. “I’m fine! I…expected something like this might happen.”

Jayce rounded on her immediately: “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?!”

Caitlyn gestured for him to keep calm. “Mel?”

Mel addressed the assassin: “You’ve come from the Bastion, haven’t you?”

The brunette still didn’t reply. Slowly her lips pulled up into a smile.

“Noxus?” Caitlyn inquired, trying to make this make sense. “Why would they try to kill you?”

“It’s a long story, and not one you need to know the details of. Just know that my family has made enemies back home who seem to think we have unfinished business. My mother hinted something in that direction and I suspected it would catch up to me eventually.”

Jayce looked visibly angry now. “And you never thought to tell us?!”

The look Mel sent him was icy. “There were bigger problems at hand, wouldn’t you say? My family business is mine to deal with. Which is what I will do.”

“Not if your family business comes to murder you! Believe it or not, I care what happens to you.”

Caitlyn agreed, “As do I. I can’t do my job if you withhold such information from me.”

She made an effort to push away her vexation and turned to the assassin once more. This had become too problematic to deal with in a public setting and they should especially not be discussing any of this in front of her.

“Last chance before you will be answering this from inside a prison cell: who sent you? If it’s retribution you fear, we can protect you. Silence will only harm you.”

The brunette opened her mouth and laughed: “You cannot,” she said. Looking at Mel, she turned her hand over and Caitlyn saw what looked like a mark tattooed into her palm: a black raven in flight, with one burning red eye.

It didn’t mean anything to Caitlyn, but she noticed Mel take half a step back at the sight.

“Take her away,” she ordered her enforcers. “Don’t take any chances and make sure she doesn’t try to escape or harm herself.”

“I won’t be the last,” the Noxian assassin called as she was pulled away. “You won’t escape for long.”

Caitlyn was certain that hers weren’t the only eyes casting around the room even after she was gone. The confidence in her threat was enough to unsettle. When it came to Piltover and Zaun, criminals who went to prison this smugly could be assumed to have an ace up their sleeve. Caitlyn had to assume this wasn’t over.

She told Mel, “I’m going to need you to tell me everything you can about this.”

“I…of course,” Mel said. She looked visibly shaken, her fingers twisting into her dress and her eyes flitting across her surroundings, never staying in one place for long. Caitlyn had never seen her like this before. “I don’t know much, but it’s worse than I thought. We shouldn’t discuss this here. I need more information… How could they have been so stupid…?”

More than anything, Mel seemed like she needed some time and space to gather herself. After a moment’s deliberation Caitlyn reached out and squeezed the other woman’s shoulder. It was tell-tale of how distracted she was that Mel didn’t protest but only looked at her in surprise.

Caitlyn told her, “We can do this later. I’ll provide you with a guard back to your chambers and you’ll take a rest. We’ll figure this out first thing tomorrow, calmly and with fewer prying eyes. Alright?”

“I can’t just leave. The ambassadors…”

“I’ll handle them, Mel. Calming situations like these down happens to be my job.”

“…Alright,” Mel nodded. She kept a dignified face for the onlookers, but there was relief shining through it. “Thank you, Caitlyn.”

Jayce accompanied her, of course. If Caitlyn read his expression correctly, he was still more than a little upset with Mel, but she also knew that he wouldn’t let any harm come to her. Nonetheless she ordered a score of her enforcers to keep a close eye on the councilwoman.

They spirited her away through a back entrance while Caitlyn turned to face the remaining guests who were beginning to clamour for an explanation.

Half an hour later the gala had dissolved.

After what had occurred, the good spirit of the night was gone and people barely complained when Caitlyn told them to leave. She gave them the need-to-know details of the attack, but made no mention of the assassin’s nationality or her potential motive for going after Mel Medarda. The threat was over and what was left to do now was to let her and the enforcers do their work until they could make a formal statement.

Maybe Mel had been right; maybe Caitlyn really was getting good at this forceful-but-diplomatic tone she needed to strike as sheriff, she reflected as the hall emptied, the people filtering out curious, but at least partly reassured. When she had taken over this job she had known that it involved considerably more public engagement than her previous one, and she was slowly finding her sea legs. But after suffering through an evening’s worth of pleasantries Caitlyn was grateful to get back to the more straightforward tasks of her actual job. Investigating a crime was so much better than small talk or delegating from behind a desk.

She didn’t voice any of this out loud. Vi already teased her for it relentlessly enough.

Speaking of. At some point during the aftermath Vi had absconded. Caitlyn cast around the room for her mess of violet hair and, when the search yielded no results, she went to look for her. With the adrenaline winding down, Caitlyn needed to see her, to feel her close. It was an instinct as much her rushing the assassin had been when the shooting started. While in some way she and Vi always seemed to gravitate towards each other, the pull became much more pronounced in moments like this.

Perhaps it was a side effect of shared trauma. Compared to the others, Caitlyn didn’t mind this one.

She found her partner a few minutes later in one of the corridors adjoining the ball room. Vi was leaning against the wall, still in her now rather torn red dress, and was smoking a cigarette. A glass of wine and a half-empty bottle sat on a dresser next to her. She looked impossibly relaxed for someone who had been stabbed not once but twice in this same hour – more relaxed than she had the entire evening, in fact. Apparently small talk had been the more painful part.

The thought made Caitlyn chuckle lightly and Vi turned her head, spying her in the hallway. She gave a sarcastic salute.

“It’s prohibited to smoke indoors,” Caitlyn pointed out.

An eye roll. “Are you gonna arrest me, sheriff?”

“No. I was going to ask you if you’ll let me have a drag.”

Vi snorted with amusement and passed it to her. Caitlyn didn’t miss the small flicker of pain that passed over her face as she stretched her injured arm. Had this been anyone else, Caitlyn would have insisted to get her to a hospital, or at least have her father stitch up the wounds properly. But Vi had been through worse and she still reacted allergic to anyone trying to pamper her.

Though she did make the occasional exception for Caitlyn.

And if she didn’t, Caitlyn resolved to order her to heal up tomorrow. Sure, Vi didn’t give a damn about hierarchy of command, but Caitlyn was getting good at talking her into her own good.

“So,” she prompted, passing the cigarette back, “this was not how I envisioned the evening going.”

Vi blew out a puff of smoke. “Me neither, and I envisioned some memorable stuff. Didn’t have ‘assassination attempt’ on the cards, though.”

“I don’t think anyone did, except for Mel.” Once the councilwoman had had time to process the event and gather herself, Caitlyn intended to question her about it. There was a lot she would have to take care of tomorrow.

Not right now, though.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“So am I, believe it or not.” Vi put out the cigarette stub and ignited a new one. She met Caitlyn’s eyes and Caitlyn saw that her mouth had tilted into that little smirk of hers. “You know what I was just thinking, sheriff?”

“No?”

“Technically you were wrong. I did punch a snobby rich kid.”

Caitlyn snorted.

“And I was completely justified to do it.”

“You were,” Caitlyn agreed, shaking her head in bemusement. “Did you know there was something off about her? Before things escalated?”

Vi rubbed her arm and winced when she hit the bandage on her shoulder. “Not at first. I chatted her up because she seemed the least snobby there. She was relaxed, funny, politically incorrect in just the right way… I guess after a while I thought she was being too fun. Like she was reading me.” She grimaced. “I started asking her about herself and she became evasive, which made me a bit suspicious. Didn’t expect her to stab me though!”

“Perhaps she did it because she thought you were catching on to her,” Caitlyn suggested. “It wasn’t a clean assassination attempt by any means. If you hadn’t engaged her, she may have waited until the gala ended and gotten away with it.”

“It wasn’t like I knew what I was doing when I engaged her,” Vi snorted. “Pure dumb luck.”

“Or good instincts.” Caitlyn smiled. “Don’t minimize. I told you that you have all the bearings of a good detective.”

Vi laughed. It was the light, mirthful laughter that sent a pleasant jolt through Caitlyn’s chest. “You know what; I’m starting to think so too. Maybe I should ask for a raise? Heroic saviour of Councilwoman Medarda and all that.”

“I’d say you’ve earned it. What will you do with the money?”

Vi glanced down at her torn dress. “Buy you a new one of these, first off. Then a big old bottle of brandy. And then… I don’t know. Perhaps a week’s worth of vacation someplace where no one comes at me with sharp objects.”

“You’d be bored within a day.”

“Probably.”

They lapsed into an easy silence. Caitlyn decided to pour herself a little of the wine. Sobriety be damned at this point. Vi took a long drag of the cigarette and passed it to her, their fingers brushing.

Caitlyn smiled. It felt good to turn off her brain and just be.

They had the corridor to themselves and Vi’s presence beside her was – comforting. It made Caitlyn feel safe and relaxed like no one else could. Vi might present an abrasive image to the outside, but they had been together for long enough that she didn’t seem to feel the need around Caitlyn anymore.

Caitlyn knew how much this meant for Vi, letting somebody in like that. It couldn’t have been easy. In a way, this was more important to Caitlyn than anything else she had done since they’d met.

She loved this woman.

“I saw you laughing at something the Noxian said earlier,” she prompted, swirling the wine around in her glass. “While you were engaging her.”

“You were watching?” A cheeky grin appeared on Vi’s lips. “Couldn’t keep your eyes off me, could you?”

“No,” Caitlyn agreed.

Vi opened her mouth and closed it, a look of surprise passing over her face. She must have expected a sarcastic retort, and at any other time that was what Caitlyn would have given her.

Vi cleared her throat. “So, you must have noticed something then, right? I saw you sprinting towards us the second she attacked me. Did your detective sense tell her that something was wrong, or…”

Vi trailed off when Caitlyn stepped closer towards her.

"I don't want to talk about that woman any more. She has taken up enough of the evening."

Her answer was another teasing smirk. “Do I hear some jealousy there, Cupcake?”

“In your dreams, Vi.”

“Guilty as charged.”

She was absolutely impossible. Vi would still flirt if both of them were on death’s door, and probably beyond that. It was her modus operandi. But she never saw the flirting through to its conclusion.

Apparently that was incumbent on Caitlyn. She took another sip of wine and looked Vi once over.

There were the tattoos showing themselves at her arms and collarbone. There was the red dress that looked perfect on her, in spite of the long gash over the stomach and the wound dressing poking up from underneath. Perhaps because of it. There were the dirtied street boots underneath that Caitlyn had not been able to make her part with and that nobody seemed to have noticed.

There was the mouth that was always ready to spit out a witty retort or an insult, or something comforting when Caitlyn needed it the most. There were the eyes that always saw more than they let on and that were now looking at Caitlyn with mirth, a hint of surprise and, almost hidden, something more that Caitlyn didn’t think she was imagining.

Caitlyn nodded to herself. She took a deep breath: “So, hypothetically speaking…”

“Oh, now you’re bringing out the big words.”

“…if I did enjoy the evening with you, and if I didn’t care for sharing you with others, but wanted your company for myself…”

Vi smirked. "Is this where we're going with this?"

Caitlyn nodded, determined. For her part, she had made up her mind. She leaned a little closer, their noses almost brushing, erasing her last out to pass this off as harmless flirting.

She could see the exact moment when Vi realized it too, when her breath escaped in an audible gasp and her eyes widened. Caitlyn said, quietly, as if her heart wasn’t pounding madly in her chest, "It is. If you want to. With me."

Vi looked stunned. A myriad of emotions seemed to flit across her face in a heartbeat as she stared at Caitlyn. Caitlyn didn’t look away. She hoped Vi could read in her face how much she was not joking about this; how much she wanted this.

Perhaps she could. Something softened in Vi’s gaze and her reply, when it finally came, was uncharacteristically quiet: "Do you really have to ask?"

It was a Yes, and it shot straight through Caitlyn's brain and into her chest and hands. Her wine glass was in the way. She set it down on the night stand without looking and brought her hands up to instead cup Vi's face.

"I’m just...being polite."

A low laugh, accompanied by a giddy smile: "You're such a Piltie."

Any further dry remarks were smothered by Caitlyn's lips on Vi's.

They were chapped and tasted of alcohol and smoke, and Caitlyn imagined that her own must taste similar at this point. Then she stopped imagining and pressed herself flush against Vi, deepening the kiss. She took a step forward. Vi took a step back. Vi’s hands were in her hair, undoing her ponytail. Caitlyn shivered when they succeeded and trailed her falling hair down to her neck, coming to a rest over her collarbone. Caitlyn reciprocated by placing a hand on Vi’s back and pulling her impossibly closer, until she could barely tell whether that thundering heartbeat was Vi’s or her own.

“Wow,” Vi breathed once they had to break apart for air.

“Yes,“ Caitlyn agreed. She wasn’t sure what she had expected for her first kiss – until a few months ago she hadn’t really expected anything, because she’d been too busy for things like crushes or longing glances – and now her entire body was buzzing too much for her to overanalyse it. So she did the only thing that felt right in the moment and leaned in again.

She had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t Vi’s first kiss. Either that or her confidence was astronomical. Nonetheless Vi seemed content letting her set the pace, which was surprising, but Caitlyn was very happy to lead. Before she knew it she had pushed Vi back another step and they hit the wall of the hallway. There was a gasp that was more pain than pleasure and, too late, Caitlyn remembered Vi’s injured shoulder. With a low “Sorry,” she leaned down and peppered light kisses around the bandage in an attempt to make it better, pointedly ignoring Vi’s little peals of laughter.

“This is so sappy.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.”

Caitlyn kept going. She moved up a bit to Vi’s neck, relishing in the way her breath hitched in response.

“Ah. Cupcake. Earlier, when you said, quote, ‘I’d become a beacon for all the attractive men and women in Piltover’: Were you worried, perhaps?”

“Shut up.” Caitlyn pulled back to give Vi a stern look, saw her tousled hair and swollen lips and ended up immediately diving back in again. “Maybe a little,” she conceded between kisses. “You’re beautiful. In so many ways. I may have gotten possessive.”

She felt more than saw the blush on Vi’s cheek. Caitlyn’s own felt just as heated admitting it. She did want Vi to be hers – until today she hadn’t realized how much she wanted that. It wasn’t just her clinging to the woman who had gotten her through the time after her mother’s death, nor was it her interpreting too much into a fleeting crush on said woman.

Kissing Vi felt right in the same way that trusting Vi to have her back when they busted into a smuggler’s den felt right. Caitlyn wanted this to last, under whatever label Vi was willing to put on it.

"Cait?" The sudden seriousness in Vi’s tone made Caitlyn pull back and look at her. Vi gave her a hooded look and Caitlyn was struck by the vulnerability of it. "Are you sure about this? You know I'm a complete mess."

Seeing her like that sobered Caitlyn from her buzz. "So am I," she returned.

“I mean it. You’ve been around me for long enough to know that. What if I fuck up again and drive you away, or you get blamed for me and…”

“Vi.” Caitlyn put a silencing finger to her lips. “Don’t. I could die tomorrow. Or you. There is enough to worry about already. I don’t want to spend however much time we have worrying what problems this could bring – not when it could be something good.”

Her hand moved from Vi’s lips to her cheek, feeling the tension there. “I want to have you by my side. And I don’t know how that’s going to look like or if it’s going to work, but…I want to try. Don’t you?”

“…Yes.” It came out in a harsh breath that seemed to rise from deep in Vi’s chest. “All of that.”

Caitlyn smiled at the flustered look on her…partner’s? Her partner’s face. “Good. I’ve wanted to ask you that for a long time, Vi.”

Vi’s reply was a huff that tried very hard to sound indignant: “What was the hold-up, then?”

“Restraint, overthinking, stupidity, fear of commitment and a lot of trauma – pick your poison.”

“The same over here.”

They were joking, but somehow it all landed differently now with only inches separating them and with that perfect smile on Vi’s face.

Caitlyn didn’t waste their time thinking of anything else witty to say, but moved closer to Vi, the movement both familiar and excitingly new. She leaned her head on Vi’s shoulder – the uninjured one – taking comfort in the firm feeling of her.

“I’m glad I found you”, she said simply. “The world is crazy. Sometimes I think you are the only thing that makes sense.”

“That’s it. We’re doomed.”

Caitlyn laughed softly, feeling Vi’s chuckle reverberate through her. The gear tattoo on her shoulder shifted right in front of Caitlyn’s eyes and she idly thought that she really wanted to investigate how far down it went now. If Vi let her, perhaps she could close that investigation tonight.

Tomorrow would be a mess. The attendees of the abruptly ended gala would demand to know what exactly was going on. Caitlyn would need to have a long conversation with Mel and then probably interrogate her assassin. They’d need to prepare for further attacks. Some in Piltover would undoubtedly point the finger of blame on Zaun, and some elements in Zaun might use it to stoke the flames once more, all of which would need to be kept under control.

It was the dance Caitlyn and Vi had done since she had become sheriff – or probably long before then. She would need a good plan.

Tomorrow. Right now she was content staying in Vi’s arms and listening to her breathe.

Vi’s arms are the only thing keeping her upright.

The night around them is loud and far brighter than it should be. The normally dark waters of the Pilt are dancing red in front of her eyes. Across the isthmus the skyline of Piltover looks wrong, and impossibly far away still.

Caitlyn can barely walk. Her head is pounding like a drum and feels like it’s going to crescendo and explode at any minute. The darkness on the corners of her vision is compelling her to slip into unconsciousness, but she can’t. Her gaze keeps getting drawn to the towering, burning ruin in the distance. The ruin that has once been the council chamber.

“Keep going. That’s good. Just one foot in front of the other.”

Flames are licking from the hole in the building. Caitlyn can hear the sirens of Piltover sounding their warning in the distance; a warning that has come far too late. She’s not sure whether she is imaging the screams.

“Hey.” Something blocks out the view of Piltover; something pink and grey and insistent. “Cupcake. Caitlyn. Look at me.”

“Vi.” This word, this woman, at least makes sense when everything else seems to have stopped doing so. Caitlyn reaches for it like for a fixed point in a raging sea, trying to right the world along its axis. The words tumble from her lips, seasick: “It’s… it’s gone.”

They’re gone.

Maybe there wasn’t a meeting today. Maybe the council didn’t convene. Maybe her mother had gotten sick, too sick to attend. Maybe Jayce had chosen his workshop over politics. Maybe they weren’t in the building when the rocket hit.

Maybe they were.

“I’m sorry,” Vi says. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Caitlyn looks at her, uncomprehending. Now Vi has stopped making sense, too. She didn’t do this. None of this is her fault. Perhaps there were ways of preventing this that they missed, but Caitlyn can barely summon the focus to consider them. Somewhere in the back of her mind a part of her is aware that she is in shock.

“I’m sorry,” Vi repeats once more. “We’re not safe here. You can hate me later, but I can’t let you go catatonic on me right now!” She steps in front of Caitlyn and takes her face in her hands. “Look at me. Treat this like it was an earthquake or something. It’s happened. There are victims. You’re not the kind of person who runs or does nothing about it, are you?! So what can we do now?”

The words along with the warmth of her hands break through Caitlyn’s stupor. She finds herself nodding. Just an earthquake. Nothing personal. People are in danger and you are an enforcer. Think.

“We…we need to get to the bridge,” she says. “Find a kit to bind our wounds. Then to the city. Most, uh, most of the destruction will be in the city centre, but there’ll be chaos everywhere. If we can, we have to stop people from panicking. Organize the enforcers to bring order instead of searching for new threats. Direct citizens to shelters until things have calmed down.”

She is compartmentalizing and she knows it. She’s skirting around the place where she needs to be, where she should be going. But Vi is nodding to her suggestions, affirming, and it enables Caitlyn to start moving her legs forward once more. She stumbles and after a few feet Vi slings her arm over her shoulders again and steadies her.

Vi’s free hand finds hers; firm and insistent. Her words the same: “That’s good. We’ll make it, Cupcake. See, all you need is a plan.”

Caitlyn squeezes her hand to the point of bruising. The one thing that makes sense, and Caitlyn knows she’ll fall apart on the spot without it. Her voice is rough to her own ears: “Please stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”