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It was with Caitlyn that Vi realized, truly, what it meant to have someone.
There’d been ‘serious’ relationships in Vi’s life before in the sense of gravitas—her family, most obviously—but serious romantic relationships were an entirely different ballpark. Prison wasn’t conducive to long term relationships, for obvious reasons, and Vi had never been invested or interested enough in the flings she’d had there to really merit more thought beyond a stolen night of intimacy here and there.
Love was a constant in Vi’s life, and it’d always been, and always would be, but love in its different forms? There was some ways that love manifested itself that made Vi realize she’d never before experienced it like this.
It was with Caitlyn that Vi realized, truly, what romance was like.
It’d started out with Vi thinking of how their relationship wasn’t traditional. In any way.
“Realized I’ve never taken you out for a date,” Vi said jokingly one day, the two lounging on the floor of Caitlyn’s library, a sprawling place with soaring bookshelves that were filled to the brim with the shining, gleaming spines of hundreds of books.
Caitlyn paused in leafing through some ancient tome about land rites in Piltover, and her jaw worked silently for a moment, Vi admiring the slight shift of the sunlight dipping and lining the angles of Caitlyn’s cheekbones.
“What brings this up?” Caitlyn asked slowly.
“Just…looking at all this shit. You have all the biggest families in Piltover like, written down here. Everyone came from some noble family or whatever. I didn’t,” Vi said, gesturing to the strewn about books surrounding them both, years and years of Piltovan heritage, history, and genealogy recorded in every way possible. If there was ever an outsider, it seemed like they’d come from places of high ranking and birth elsewhere. Piltover’s elite had been particular about their matchmaking, clearly. Prestige and wealth were huge factors in the Piltovan dating scene; a far cry from Zaun’s more down to earth and grounded form of dating.
“You know I’m not interested in rankings, or titles,” Caitlyn said, her slight frown a sign she was trying to parse Vi’s thoughts. “Nor am I ever going to be invested in the same rules or manners as the rest of Piltovan society. Vi, what are you really asking?”
“Your parents, you told me they tried playing matchmaking with you. So you went on…dates?”
“By the traditional definition, yes.” Caitlyn’s single eye was calculating, and it was clear Caitlyn wanted to say more, but she refrained.
“I’m guessing there’s like, some kind of Piltovan dating scene where you guys do whatever, uh, courtship rituals you guys do,” Vi said, hearing herself fully now, and knowing completely that Caitlyn shifting closer to her, Caitlyn grasping her arm with firm and steady fingers, Caitlyn holding her gaze without a single bit of hesitation meant Caitlyn saw straight through her. Even with one eye, Caitlyn never failed to see all of Vi’s thoughts, her heart.
“‘Courtship,’” Caitln repeated. “Vi, we’re not some antiquated society. And it’s not as if you’re expected to follow the same rules of engagement as everyone else.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just…”
“Does it bother you, that you and I got together because of…” Caitlyn waved a vague hand. “I admit it’s not traditional, but there’s more to this than you’re saying, correct?”
“I just…” Vi ran a hand through her hair, trying to figure out how to put her thoughts into words. “I wanna try it, with you, you know? Something normal. Since we’re not really normal.”
“Do we have to be normal?” Caitlyn asked, brow furrowed in confusion.
“No, but I wanna try it anyway. I wanna go on a real date with you.”
Caitlyn tilted her head in thought. “I see. You want to try traditional dating with me, not because you feel like society wants you to, but because you…want to see what it’s like?”
“Yeah? Yeah.”
“I’m slightly confused still as to why you’d want to do this, but I’m willing to…date you, or do what you think constitutes as ‘dating’ me.”
Now it was Vi’s turn to frown. “I mean, dating’s just…going out somewhere nice together, right? Just you and me, and I give you flowers at the end or something? Or you give me flowers?”
“Darling, that can count as a date, but I think our definitions of what a date is might differ,” Caitlyn chuckled, and she leaned back on one hand, her hair a lightened shade of navy blue, gold highlighting the ends of the strands, making her radiant in more ways than one. “One might say the more refined definition of dating is, spending time with someone and really getting to know them.”
“Then aren’t we just…dating all the time?” Vi asked, baffled.
“Yes,” Caitlyn answered simply. It was so funny seeing the world through Caitlyn’s eyes. Or, eye. Some things always seemed so certain to her, so unquestionable.
“Then isn’t that what friends do? Is me going out with Steb and Scar to the bar count as a date?”
“I wasn’t aware you were romantically involved with them both at the same time. Oh, Vi, you should’ve told me. Seems like I’ll need to get us a bigger bed.”
“Cait,” Vi said, rolling her eyes.
Caitlyn laughed. “Alright, I’ll change my words a little. Perhaps romantic intentions are necessary, if one is to define dating.”
“Would you count then, the first time I brought you to Jericho’s, a date?” Vi raised a brow in question.
“Was that meant to be a romantic outing between us both?” Caitlyn asked.
“What do you think?”
“You can’t be serious,” Caitlyn said, mouth dropping open in comedic disbelief. “You cannot seriously be attempting to redefine how we first met. Were you genuinely trying to take me out?”
“I mean.” Vi waved a hand. “‘Take me out’ has a lot of different definitions, babe.”
Caitlyn heaved a sigh, but there was a bit of a laugh in the sound too. “It wasn’t enough for you to try and kill me by climbing down into the Lanes. You wanted to kill me with Jericho’s food too, I see.”
“Hey, I just wanted to double check you could survive down there.”
“If you’re genuinely attempting to gaslight me into believing you had any form of romantic intentions for me the first time we met, Vi, then I’m going to adamantly deny that anything we did that day was a ‘date.’”
“Alright, alright. Fair, fair,” Vi said, but she couldn’t help her own grin. That time felt so long ago—it was funny, looking back on it, that fated day when their lives first began to intertwine, and it’d started out with a messy meal and cutting remarks. Relationships have been shattered for less, and yet, despite everything the two had been through—hell and back, a dozen times over—they’d still remained together. “Seriously, Cait. I want a real date with you. Give me some time to think on it, alright? I’m gonna think of something nice and special for us.”
Caitlyn’s smile was so warm; the woman leaned in towards Vi, pressed a quick kiss to Vi’s cheek, and said, “Then I look forward to whatever it is you have planned for our first date.”
—-
From what Vi understood of traditional dating, was that she was supposed to go pick up Caitlyn at her front door and whisk her away in either one; a shitty truck that had rustic charm and historic nostalgia that symbolized Vi’s working class heritage or two; a fancy ass ride that was sleek, hot, and representative of Vi’s suave personality. What threw an obvious wrench in all this was that one; Vi literally lived with Caitlyn and two; everything in Piltover worth going to was generally within walking distance or roof-running distance, which made the necessity of some car pickup rather useless.
Vi improvised.
She stood on the doorsteps to the manor, smoothing out the wrinkles to her Ionian-inspired black linen shirt, a thin waist belt tied around her midriff to neatly keep the shirt fastened and close to her chest. She double checked the lapels again, then shrugged her shoulders, relieved that the shirt had short sleeves; she’d always found long sleeves a little too suffocating to her tastes, and she never missed how Caitlyn’s eye always seemed to trail along her arms whenever she thought Vi wasn’t looking. Matching color linen pants completed her ensemble, and Tobias had puffed out his chest with pride once he’d seen Vi standing tall and bold in the mirror. (“Honestly, I think Ionian fashion should be more of the rage around here, but unfortunately, Demacian white seems to be the new ‘in’ thing, but I suspect next year Noxian black might make a comeback,” Tobias had rambled to Vi, Vi nodding like she pretended she understood Piltovan high fashion.)
Vi had tried taming her wild mane of hair but it’d staunchly refused to flatten or be anything but spiky and ruffled, so she’d given up on it and let it be.
Caitlyn came out the front door a moment later, her eye turning to Vi, her lips pursed and eyes glinting with both warmth and amusement.
“You look quite dapper tonight,” Caitlyn said; she’d donned a gorgeous, tailored, double-breasted, dark navy vest with sleek, notched lapels. It complimented her figure perfectly; the vest revealed the strength of her sinewy and lean arms. Beautiful matching pants and pristine black heels finished off the rest of her outfit—and she’d smoothed her hair back today, looking every inch like Piltover’s most finest and most polished one-eyed woman for leagues around.
“And you look hot, cupcake,” Vi said with a wink. “Anyway, got our ride ready. Ready to go?”
They moved to the gates, where Vi’s ‘ride’ was waiting, leaning against one of the brick columns.
Caitlyn stared at it. “We’re seriously going to the restaurant in this?”
“What’s wrong with it?” Vi asked. “Ekko let me borrow it, and he told me it’d fit the both of us. You just have to kind of like, stand on the back a little bit, here, on this part.” She pointed to said part, a tiny, small platform behind the driver’s seat. “S’why I told you to wear pants.”
“I’m not sure this is street legal, Vi.”
“Well, you’re the sheriff. Gonna arrest me? We could have our first real date in jail, if you want.”
Caitlyn gave her a look. “Vi, you can’t continually pull the ‘are you going to arrest me’ card anytime you do something that you think I disagree with. It’s getting old. You could stand to come up with a better defense.”
“You wanna call up a public defender right now? I know I’m entitled to one.” Vi winked.
Caitlyn wasn’t having it though; she met Vi on her level. “Oh? Not strong enough to mount up your own defense? Perhaps you have less brawn and brains than I thought.”
Oof. Rough one. Sometimes Caitlyn shot her in ways that she wasn’t expecting.
“Okay, fine. I still have something up my sleeve,” Vi said.
“I’m listening.”
“Caaaiiiitt. Do you really not like it?” Vi asked, instead switching tactics and pulling out another card—the puppy-dog eyes, the pouting mouth, the hands tucked behind her back as she mustered the most pleading look she could possibly make.
Caitlyn rolled her eye. “Really, Vi?”
“Is it working?” Usually this worked. About half the time. Vi was certain she’d practiced this look in the mirror enough times—it made Caitlyn cave so easily sometimes.
“Darling, I’m fine with utilizing a disc runner to get to the restaurant. But I’m driving.”
“What?” Vi scoffed immediately. “Why? I should be the one driving, I got the runner here—”
“Don’t think I haven’t missed the five complaints submitted to my desk this morning about how some rowdy hooligan was doing donuts with this thing yesterday afternoon in the main plaza,” Caitlyn said. “I’m driving the disc runner. End of discussion.”
“You don’t even know how to drive it,” Vi argued.
“I can learn. I’m a quick learner, you know this.”
Vi had her doubts, but she let Caitlyn get into the driver’s seat of the disc runner, Vi leaning down behind her, grasping a handle on the wheel’s inner rim as she placed her feet firmly on the tiny platform behind the driver’s seat. She started to point out how to get the disc runner going, the buttons and levers to pull, but Caitlyn batted her hand away, scoffing and telling Vi, again, she was a quick learner and she’d figure out how to drive this contraption without needed assistance.
They ended up late to their restaurant reservation because Caitlyn repeatedly kept reversing the wheel’s drive, or jerking it forward and back, the woman caught off guard at the sheer force at which the disc runner accelerated with just the barest touch of the pedal—several times Vi had to throw her weight side to side to make sure Caitlyn made a turn, else they’d both collide straight into a brick wall and then Vi would really have to give Ekko that money she’d bet that she’d totally get the disc runner back to him in one piece.
Still, on the way there, Vi couldn’t help but burst out laughing—Caitlyn managed to find her own breathless laughter on their chaotic route to the restaurant, and the flush to her cheeks in the light of the golden lampposts made Vi see sunlight, even in the evening.
How Vi’s heart felt so full, then. How Vi could predict Caitlyn’s erratic turns, how she’d skid her boot on the ground to get them to swerve at just the right second. How Caitlyn would glance back at her, grinning, checking that Vi was still in one piece and grinning right back. How they’d argue over left or right and they’d miss the turn anyway because they were too busy trying to keep the disc runner balanced just right.
Vi didn’t know the name for it just then, too busy trying to keep up with her fast-paced partner. She knew it was love. She just didn’t know that in those chaotic moments of pure delight, of blissful laughter, that this was what falling in love was like, what a literal, whirlwind romance was like. It wasn’t traditional, no, and only later would Vi realize they’d never be a traditional couple in the normal sense, but it was their special way of falling in love. They wouldn’t be Caitlyn and Vi without this—this mess, this chaos, this off-the-cuff way they tackled both life and love.
The valet was understandably confused when they arrived, their hair windswept, their clothes ruffled, but the disc runner thankfully in one piece.
“Feel free to park it where you like,” Caitlyn said, breathless, as she and Vi walked past the perplexed valet.
They burst out laughing as they sat down in their seats, wide grins mirroring the other’s.
—-
Dinner managed to sober them up, only just the slightest bit, because Vi remembered that this restaurant she’d picked had been one recommended highly by many of Piltover’s finest food magazines and critics, but it’d also meant the place was one reserved for the elite and prestigious—more than once, pairs of eyes would glance at them, just barely hiding their disdain and offense at someone like Vi intruding on such a place like this. Silent judgment was reserved for Caitlyn, terse gazes squinting at Caitlyn for a brief second before darting away, none daring to publicly call out one of the most powerful women in Piltover.
Vi had long since ceased caring for society’s opinions—she had more than enough self-confidence in both herself and Caitlyn to not doubt their relationship—but all of this, all these people, this fancy place with bright chandeliers and grand paintings on the walls still gave her food for thought. Figured she’d find something at this upscale restaurant to detract her from the literal, delicious food on her plate.
“Something on your mind, Vi?” Caitlyn asked, stirring in her hand a mocktail of bright blue color. Vi had taken a sip of it earlier, trying it, wondering at the sour taste it left behind on her tongue, the fruitful burst of flavor in her mouth as she’d returned the glass back to Caitlyn.
That was one thing Vi noticed about Caitlyn, when they went out and about to have a meal together. Caitlyn always offered her a bit of hers, always shared. Vi did the same in turn. A sip of a drink here, mouths sharing the same straw. A bite off a fork there, using the same fork again to spear another piece of food. It seemed like an obvious thing to do—hell, in Zaun, family-style meals were common—but there was something about the way Caitlyn so immediately gave and offered anything of hers to Vi, even just bits of food, sips of drink, or, if Caitlyn particularly disliked something but Vi liked it, Caitlyn would instantly give Vi the whole plate or cup to have.
Caitlyn so readily shared her life with Vi. Her home. Her food. Her body, even. So much of Vi’s life was also Caitlyn’s, and Caitlyn never mentioned it.
Was this what having a partner was like? What truly having someone was like? Their lives not just intertwined, but bleeding into the other’s, like paint on a canvas mixing with other colors to create a new whole.
“Just…thinking, again,” Vi said, trying to figure out how to put her feelings into words. “Is this…what they all do? What…Piltie people do?”
“Go to restaurants and eat food, you mean? Then, I believe yes,” Caitlyn said. “I wasn’t aware Piltovans didn’t eat food. Someone should have informed me. I’ll have to arrest every person in this building.”
“Cait.”
“Vi,” Caitlyn said, gentle. “What are you really asking?”
“I guess…I’m just wondering about people that aren’t like us. How they got together. They were normal, they did normal dates, they probably go out to restaurants like this and just talk about each other. And…that’s how they fall in love? That’s how it works for them? For other people?”
Caitlyn chuckled, raising her glass to her lips as she too looked around. “I suppose not everyone has…our kind of history. My parents, actually, met at a gala. My mother, as I’m told, made the first move, and as far as I’m aware, it’s as you described. They went on outings together, got to know each other.”
“How’d they figure out they were in love with each other?” Vi asked.
It took Caitlyn a moment to answer, her expression pensive. “I think…my father described it as, once, they were at my family’s summer home. My mother…remembered exactly how my father liked his tea. She’d woken up early to get it steeped long enough so that by the time he woke, she’d have the tea ready for him.” She glanced at Vi, a slight blush to her cheeks. “I know you do the same for me, Vi.”
Vi shrugged, a little sheepish. “Yeah, well. Need something to get you up and going in the mornings.”
“True,” Caitlyn chuckled. “Never quite like mornings. But…I suppose, for others, even if their relationship was far more banal than ours, their love is still true.”
“Mm. Just…hard to imagine.” A normal life. Vi couldn’t quite fit the image of something like that in her head. Even the date they were on now felt somewhat surreal; peace still didn’t quite sit comfortably on Vi’s shoulders as it did for most others. Often Vi would feel that pang in her shoulderblade, roll her shoulder back, and wonder if she’d always feel a reminder of the war, of loss, of a past she could never quite forget. Maybe not every romance was forged in fire and war, but for Vi, it was all she’d ever known.
“Is it…different, in Zaun? Dating?” Caitlyn asked, drawing Vi from her thoughts.
“It’s definitely less fancy restaurants like this,” Vi chuckled, gesturing. “Probably more like, bars, clubs, hookups and shit. More fast, more furious.”
“Is that truly a Zaun thing or is that just a you thing?” Caitlyn shot her a look.
“Okay, maybe both. I mean, my parents—they met as miners, working. Think that’s probably how a lot of the working folks down there meet—they meet on the job, and work together long enough, guess that works out as ‘dating.’ Not really the same as you topsiders, but, same idea I guess. You just gotta work on getting to know somebody well enough, and then you figure out if you’ll work out together.” Get to be around someone for enough time and eventually you’d figure out who they were, what they were like, whether or not you worked well together. Zaun played heavy into connections, into community; it was the only way to survive down there. Ekko’s Firelights base was just a prime example of Zaunite culture as a whole—the strength of many.
“Do you think we’ve known each other long enough?” Caitlyn asked.
Vi glanced at her; Caitlyn’s single eye was on her, unwavering.
“I feel like we’ve been through a couple lifetimes together, Cait,” Vi said softly.
“It feels that way, doesn’t it?” Caitlyn swirled her glass once more, her eye glancing down at the blue liquid within. “This has made me realize something, though.”
“Yeah?”
“I know you, Vi. You,” Caitlyn said, meeting Vi’s gaze again, but her expression came weighted with such a gentle kind of love and affection that Vi felt the breath leave her lungs. There were times when Caitlyn looked at her—really, really looked at her—and Vi could feel the strings of her heart unravel, tugging, pulling, the threads of her life stitching themselves in a different way, a different direction, blue and red sewn together. When this woman said she knew Vi, Vi knew she did.
“But…” Caitlyn pursed her lips. “I’m realizing, I don’t know a lot of little things about you.”
“You know I like coffee. Sometimes with sugar. Sometimes not.”
“I do,” Caitlyn chuckled. “Three cubes, precisely. Too much is too sweet. But sometimes you need a real kicker in the morning and a simple black is enough. But, I suppose, I’m talking about—your favorite color. Your favorite time of day. If you like dogs, or cats, more.”
“Huh.” Vi rested her elbows on the table, chin resting on her hands. “Favorite color? Red. Favorite time of day? Nighttime, when you can go up on the roof and see all the lights in town on, and see how big the moon is. And I think I like dogs more.”
“I should’ve figured with the dogs,” Caitlyn said under her breath. “Your jacket.”
“How ‘bout you, Cait?”
“Mm? Favorite color. White. My favorite time of day—I have to admit, I haven’t thought about this. I don’t know, just yet. My family had dogs as both my parents were partial to them, and I loved them, but I actually quite like birds more. I enjoy birdwatching at the summer estate—my father and I have a journal, to document which birds settle or pass over when we’re visiting.”
“Birdwatcher, huh. I’m surprised though, about the color white. Why’s it your favorite?”
“It fits with anything,” Caitlyn said simply. “Black’s a little too dour for my tastes, though it looks good on you—and me. And it’s light. I like how it feels. I may not wear white often—but I do appreciate its simplicity.”
Little things. Not the most important, but they were parts of who they were, too. Pieces of the whole.
They spent the rest of the dinner poking and prying at these little parts of them both, things they didn’t normally think about, things that weren’t needed in both of their lives on a daily basis. Caitlyn loved hearing the sound of the ocean in shells she’d pick up along the beach, and she liked the smooth and round texture of the shells in her hands. Vi liked the feel of mud or slime between her fingers, how it could be molded into anything, be slung around and thrown around. Caitlyn disliked earmuffs, hated how they muffled sound, made her feel suffocated in a way, and she’d rather just freeze her ears off in winter than put a pair of earmuffs on. Vi could tolerate most bugs, most insects—you had to grow a tough skin to all kinds of critters if you lived in the basement of a bar in Zaun—but Vi drew the line at roaches, and she’d always made Claggor toss those buggers out if she saw one.
Maybe Vi wouldn’t describe all this as seeing Caitlyn in a new light, but it brought new angles to her that Vi just hadn’t thought of or considered before. If they were paintings, in a way, Vi felt like the colors were sharpening between them both; there was more definition to their outlines, their shapes, their tones. The detail brought out more of the whole. Vi knew Caitlyn, but now she felt like she could see just more of the woman underneath, the girl who liked to watch birds and listen to conches on the beach, and maybe Caitlyn got to know Vi as the girl who liked to play around in the mud after a long rain and who stood on stools in indignation when she saw a roach.
After they’d finished their meals, Caitlyn gestured for the waiter to bring their check, and Vi paid before they left.
—-
They got on the disc runner once more—Vi this time took charge of the wheel, literally and figuratively—and within minutes they were at an ice cream shop open late in the night, willing to cater to all the sweet tooths craving their late night fix.
Vi purchased ice cream cones for them both—Caitlyn getting her usual favorite of strawberry flavored ice cream—while Vi got her favorite, an atrocious-looking flavor nicknamed Blue Monster for its vivid blue color intermixed with chunks of chocolate and vanilla cookies.
As they sat on a bench in a nearby park, enjoying their dessert, Caitlyn reached up with a napkin to wipe away the mess of blue ice cream around Vi’s mouth.
“You’re such a messy eater, love.”
“You love it.”
Caitlyn rolled her eye, but Vi didn’t mistake the blush on her cheeks, which made Vi burst out laughing.
“You know, though,” Caitlyn started, and Vi braced herself for this conversation they’d had several times—each time they went out and about and Vi insisted on paying. Publicly, in front of others, Caitlyn never said a word, but it always seemed like immediately after Caitlyn would bring up the subject.
“Cait, if you’re gonna say, again, that you’re willing to just pay for all this shit, then again, my answer’s a fucking no,” Vi said, tugging a piece of cookie chunk from her ice cream with her teeth and crunching on it.
“I just…”
“Does it bother you that much?” Vi asked. “You know you’re my boss. You know how much I fucking make on the Wardens. It’s not like I’m going bankrupt anytime soon, babe.”
“I—I know,” Caitlyn said, gesturing with her free hand, the other still gripping her ice cream cone. “It’s not that it bothers me. It’s just that…I don’t know. I have all the means in the world for us to indulge in anything and everything, Vi. I spend ages looking over our investments, my returns, everything—my family’s finances are more than enough to fund everything you could want, three times over. And—I understand you, I know, that my wealth is an obvious imbalance between us both—”
Vi listened to Caitlyn’s diatribe for another minute, because one; she really wanted to eat her ice cream before it melted because Caitlyn’s strawberry ice cream was already dripping a bright pink down her cone and onto her fingers, to which Caitlyn seemed to endlessly dab at with a napkin and two; she’d heard this before, dozens of times. Fuck, one of their first ‘arguments’ after the war had been just about this subject—their finances, their money. More accurately, Caitlyn’s.
Caitlyn shared everything with Vi. Literally. There wasn’t a single thing about Caitlyn’s house and home that Vi didn’t intimately know by now. Caitlyn was never shy about discussing her work and business life with Vi at anytime—work was obviously intertwined in not just their lives individually, but together, given their roles on the Wardens—but sometimes they’d spend time in Caitlyn’s office, looking over records, over receipts, over deeds and bills and what not that detailed every bit of the Kiramman family’s wealth. (Caitlyn argued Vi should learn about all this, and though Vi saw the merit in learning about it, damn, was it a lot of shit to go through.)
It always seemed to chafe on Caitlyn, just the slightest bit, when Vi refused Caitlyn’s offers to spend in her stead. They never seemed to quite hit a concrete compromise, other than Caitlyn agreeing tersely to letting Vi make the decision to spend her own money on her own time, and to inform Caitlyn when and if she needed Caitlyn to make the purchase on her own Kiramman dime.
Vi tuned back into the conversation, only to hear and see Caitlyn still rambling. Something about how Caitlyn had the means to take care of Vi forever—
“Why do you wanna take care of me forever?” Vi asked simply, continuing to lick her ice cream.
“I’m sorry?”
“Why do you wanna take care of me forever?” Vi repeated. “That’s what you just said, right? Why?”
“Why?” Caitlyn, taken aback, stared at Vi, aghast. “Vi—because I love you. I want—I want you to never worry about—anything, I remember how your parents lived back in the Sumps, I recall what you’ve told me about your upbringing, how you and the others had a single bedroom to share, I—”
In any other situation, Vi would’ve thought it funny to see Caitlyn sputter like this. Only Vi could do this to her, could make Caitlyn stammer and stutter and lose her composure.
“If your goal is to like, never make me worry about anything, you know that’s impossible, right?” Vi asked, still nonchalant as she managed to whittle down her ice cream down to the cone—her favorite part. She loved the crunch of the cone and the taste of the ice cream in between.
“I just—I never want you to feel wanting—”
“And that’s also impossible,” Vi said breezily with a smile. “I’m always gonna want my sister back, somehow. My family, too. You gonna try and buy those back?”
That hit Caitlyn like a slap, and maybe Vi had half-intended for it to be.
“I…no,” Caitlyn said, ice cream still fast melting in her hand. “Vi…I genuinely just…”
“Eat your ice cream, babe. It’s melting,” Vi said gently.
Caitlyn took a minute to gather her thoughts, furiously—and comedically, from Vi’s point of view—digging into her ice cream cone. Vi had to admit it was cute, how frantically Caitlyn attempted to keep herself clean while consuming a fast-melting ice cream cone; the pile of napkins next to them steadily grew into a miniature mountain, all the while Vi calmly and leisurely finished off the rest of her own cone.
Finally, Caitlyn finished her ice cream. Vi had admired her all the while, all the messy parts of her, the still somewhat windswept hair, the tussle and ruffle of her clothes, the shadows of moonlight dipping into the wrinkles.
“I want to talk about this seriously, Vi,” Caitlyn started.
“I know. And I’m listening,” Vi said.
Were conversations like this per the norm, too? Surely other people talked about shit like this. That was what people did, when their lives collided, combined, when planets started orbiting each other instead of running off into random trajectories. The mesh and merge of two lives like theirs wasn’t the norm, sure, but Vi did wonder how others did this, how ocean met sand, how storm met sky, how push met pull. Was there anyone in the world more opposite than them? How did they work out?
“Vi, as to why I so deeply wish to care for you—in every way, with every means at my disposal…The world’s just been so cruel to you,” Caitlyn said, fragile. “You’ve been punished for—for so many things that wasn’t your fault. I can’t…I can’t stand the thought of you facing anymore hardship than you already have. I’d love nothing more than for your life to be—calm. Easy. Simple. I want for you to know comfort. Peace. Forever. If I could rid the world of trouble, or even, inconvenience for you, I would.”
Vi stuck a tongue in her cheek, glancing away. The park was bathed in silver moonlight, the fountain in its center sparkling and gushing with water that shone bright, cascades of white shimmering.
This was one thing about Caitlyn that Vi finally had the words to describe. She was always so—so thorough. The woman could never half-ass something. She’d endure, work, fight tirelessly to achieve an absolute end that could never exist. People called Vi headstrong but sometimes Vi wondered if it were Caitlyn that were the more hardheaded of the two. If Vi solved problems by punching them with her fists, then Caitlyn solved problems by blasting them into atomic smithereens. (“We must remove the roots of a problem to solve it,” Caitlyn argued often, in Council meetings, in Wardens operation rooms, in literally any situation that had her taking command.)
“What if I said the same to you? I don’t want you to have to worry about anything either. Including me,” Vi said.
“That’s not—”
“That’s what? Not the same?” Vi asked, amused. “Cait, I get what you mean. But it’s a bit fucked up of you to say that to me but not accept that I can’t say the same to you. Right?”
“I…”
Vi could see it, though. The dawning realization on Caitlyn’s expression. The shift of balance between them both. Wealth was a form of power, sure, even a gauntlet one might say, but there were ways to put weight elsewhere in a relationship.
“You’re really fucking impossible sometimes, you know?” Vi leaned back against the bench, expression pensive. “Cait, you’re so—one thing I’ve learned about you, from being with you, is you don’t let people do things for you. You always have to do things, because you feel like just because you can means you should. That ain’t it, babe. It ain’t it.”
Caitlyn worked her jaw, hands clenched into fists in her lap. “I…Don’t tell me. You’re giving me back the same spiel I always give you, aren’t you? When you run in, without thinking? This is the same.”
“Hah. Yeah. Took a leaf out of your book. I do learn from all the lectures you give me about goin’ in first, you know.” Even if she didn’t really apply said lessons often, she still did remember it.
“Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should,” Caitlyn repeated under her breath, the mantra no doubt embedding itself into her mind.
“Look, Cait.” Vi nudged Caitlyn with her elbow. “I wanna do all the same for you, too. You think I don’t think the same of you? That you’ve been through enough? That—that I, personally, haven’t put you through hell?”
“It wasn’t your fault—”
“Sure,” Vi said, shrugging. That wasn’t the topic she wanted to stick on, though. “Does it kill you that bad to think that you deserve something nice, too? That someone else should care for you, the way you do everybody fucking else? Does it kill you? Does it really, really kill you?”
“No.” It took Caitlyn a minute, but she said it. “No, it…it doesn’t. I suppose I’m trying to reconcile these thoughts I have on both you and I, Vi. I don’t want to make it a competition between us both on who’s suffered the most—it’d be pointless.” Caitlyn glanced at her, and Vi nodded in agreement. “But I see your point. It’s a bit unfair of me, isn’t it? To insist that I care for you, without allowing you to do the same for me. Even in your own way.”
“S’alright. You were an Enforcer, once,” Vi said, half-chuckling. “Kinda part of your job to force your opinions on other people.”
“That’s not how I want us to work,” Caitlyn said immediately. “Don’t even joke about it like that, Vi.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
Sighing, Caitlyn leaned forward on the bench, hands clasped in front of her as she said, “And…what you said, about me deserving things. I…find it hard to believe I do, sometimes.” Quieter, she added, “I sometimes find it hard to believe I deserve you, even.”
That got Vi’s attention, and she straightened up, leaning forward to be closer. “Cait. You can’t seriously be believing in this woe-is-me bullshit—”
“It’s not bullshit,” Caitlyn snapped. “Vi, can you just believe me for once? I can’t—you can’t just quip or insult your way to making me believe that I deserve more after everything that’s happened. You can’t erase what I’ve done, and I can’t forget it, ever. I’m not—I’m not constantly self-flagellating myself or ‘woe-is-me’-ing every second of my life but there are times I think of how incredible my life is now, with you, and I think—this is just so impossible. You and I. If you told your younger self that you would be with me now, would you believe it? Would you have believed your life would be like this, now?”
“No,” Vi said honestly.
“Precisely my point.”
“But we’ve done the impossible, you know,” Vi said, still as truthful as she’d ever been. Maybe only people from Zaun could be this grounded, this real with the world they lived in. Maybe Piltover was up too high in the skies, and maybe Caitlyn just couldn’t see things from Vi’s perspective. Maybe that’s what partners were for; to not just cover your back, but to cover your blindspots too. “And, you just said, you and me are impossible, but here we are, on a date, having probably the most fucked up first date conversation ever—,” that earned her a snort from Caitlyn. Vi continued, “—and I want you to consider doing the impossible for me now. Let me take care of you when I want to, on my own terms. Let me give you nice things. And I’ll let you take care of me, on your terms, when you want, and you can make the world nicer for me that way. That’s how we’ll work. I love you, just as much as you love me, and I think it’s only fair if we get to take care of each other in our own ways. Right?”
Burying her face in her hands, Caitlyn said nothing for a long moment. After a long, long exhale, she straightened up, her one blue eye glistening in the night—but Vi saw resolve there, too. Understanding. It was the glint in Caitlyn’s eye that she got whenever she was on the case, ready to pursue an end.
“I agree. It’s fair,” Caitlyn said. With a weak smile, she added, “It feels like every time we argue, you always seem to come out winning. How?”
“Three siblings,” Vi said dryly. “A dad that’d whoop my ass if I said something stupid.”
“Fair.”
—-
They headed home soon after, taking a more scenic route back. The heavy weight of their prior conversation dissipated from their shoulders, lightening them both as they laughed along the road next to the bridge, the disc runner revving down the streets with a speed unmatched. The wind tangled itself playfully on their clothes, their hair flying out behind them both as they zoomed through Piltover, grinning with their bit of newfound freedom.
Back on the doorsteps of the manor, Vi dramatically bowed and politely held the door open for Caitlyn as she entered; to which Caitlyn rolled her eye and chuckled, but then reached a hand out, dragging Vi in by the lapels.
“So, good first date?” Vi asked, the two of them tossing their shoes off in the entrance area.
“A wonderful one. I look forward to more dates with you, Vi.” Caitlyn began heading off down the hallway to their bedroom, Vi following after. “But I’d like to plan the next one.”
“Oh? Gonna surprise me?” Vi asked.
“I have some ideas. Especially now that I know you’ve never gone birdwatching before.”
“Trip to your estate sounds fun.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve gone. I think it’d be nice to bring you there.”
It was Caitlyn’s turn to hold the bedroom door open, and she too did a little polite gesture of her arm to wave Vi in.
When Vi headed to the closet to take off her clothes, she felt Caitlyn’s hand at her shoulder, abruptly turning her around.
“Excuse me?” Caitlyn asked, brow furrowed. “Where are you going?”
“To…take off my clothes? And get ready for bed?” Vi said, confused.
“You take a woman like me out on a nice date and don’t even try suggesting something more?” Caitlyn asked, looking mockingly offended.
“Oh.” Vi recomputed the night, then looked down at herself, her outfit, then at Caitlyn, and her outfit. “I mean, yeah, I was thinkin’ about how hot you looked all night, but isn’t this like, a first date? Do normal people usually have sex after a first date? Seems a bit fast, right?”
“I thought we’ve clearly established that you and I are not normal. I was under the impression as well that most people don’t have sex with their partner for the first time in a jail cell.” Caitlyn’s hands were already undoing the thin waist belt at Vi’s midriff.
Vi stood still, contemplating while Caitlyn began to undo the buttons of her linen shirt. “You know, one thing I’ve learned about you that I wasn’t expecting to learn, is that you’re kind of a freak, Cait.”
Caitlyn paused at undoing the topmost button of Vi’s shirt, and her single-eyed gaze painstakingly, slowly, dragged itself up to Vi’s. “And one thing I’ve learned about you is that you’re absolutely terrible at flattery,” she said, deadpan.
“Worked on you,” Vi said, making an obvious gesture at how Caitlyn was removing her clothes just then.
Tossing Vi’s shirt aside and moving to the buttons of Vi’s pants, Caitlyn shook her head, amused. “You’re lucky I think you’re cute.”
Caitlyn paused so Vi could toss aside her pants too, but then Caitlyn’s palm pressed flat against Vi’s abs, pushing her towards the end of the bed; as Vi half fell, half sat on the end of the bed, hands already reaching out to try and take off Caitlyn’s clothes, Caitlyn straddled her waist.
Swiftly unbuttoning Caitlyn’s vest, Vi said cheekily, “Am I just cute to you? Or do I got other things goin’ on that you like about me?”
Caitlyn shrugged off her vest, throwing it aside—damn, her bra. Clearly Caitlyn had definitely banked on getting laid tonight, but Vi only had a second to admire the fine lingerie before Caitlyn swiftly undid her bra and threw it aside too.
Eyes fixated on Caitlyn’s bare breasts and thinking of how she’d love to lean in and get a taste, mouth watering, Vi barely heard Caitlyn’s reply.
“I like,” Caitlyn breathed, leaning in, hands reaching up to cup Vi’s face, turning her face up so Vi could see and think of nothing but Caitlyn’s blue gaze on her own. “that you have a big heart, so full of love. And I love how beautiful you are, when you look at me so.”
“I’m pretty,” Vi said, a little dazed. Caitlyn. She was just—she was just so beautiful. It was hard to put thoughts together right now when Caitlyn was shirtless in her lap.
Vi genuinely had to wonder if anyone else ever felt insane just looking at Caitlyn. The woman’s beauty was, literally, breathtaking. Sometimes, in public, Vi had to loosen her collar or look away for a brief second just to get her lungs working again, and she’d have to retread her own mind to find where she’d lost her train of thought—how easily it could barrel off the tracks in an instant if Caitlyn so much as glanced at her, robbing her of both heart and brain. And they called Vi the criminal out of the two of them; if only they knew just how many felonies Caitlyn’s committed against Vi’s poor soul. Theft on a scale unimaginable.
“You’re lovely, Vi,” Caitlyn murmured, her lips ghosting across Vi’s.
If Vi had had any sense just then she might’ve replied with ‘You, too,’ but Caitlyn kissed her then with all the tender adoration and affection she had in her heart, her soul.
Vi’s heart could’ve burst from her chest just then, from just how big it was, how it felt. Caitlyn was right. Vi was full of love, filled to the brim with it, and she had so much of it to give—and just now, Caitlyn was here to have it all.
Vi palmed at Caitlyn’s breasts first, then slipped her mouth down—breathily chuckling at Caitlyn’s slight whine at ending the kiss so soon—before leaving kisses against the Caitlyn’s throat, her collarbone, then further down until Vi finally got a taste, sucking and teasing on the taut peaks of Caitlyn’s breasts, moaning with satisfaction—just as Caitlyn’s hands tightened in Vi’s hair.
It didn’t take long to tear off Caitlyn’s pants, too, and then another short second to rip off the rest of their underclothing before they were back at it, Caitlyn straddling Vi’s waist, Vi’s hands all over Caitlyn’s body, palming, touching, tracing the woman’s gorgeous curves. She so fucking impossible—in every way. Vi could remember every inch of Caitlyn’s body and still feel like she couldn’t have enough.
When Vi slipped her fingers down between Caitlyn’s legs, she heard and felt Caitlyn’s hot gasp at her ear. It took barely any effort to sink two fingers in, wetness coating Vi’s fingers as Caitlyn bucked her hips against Vi’s hand. Vi started her rhythm out slow, but then—
“Don’t tease,” Caitlyn hissed, a furious blue eye meeting Vi’s gaze, before her mouth crashed into Vi’s.
Vi didn’t need to be told twice, but she couldn’t help grinning against Caitlyn’s mouth too; Caitlyn riding her fingers like this, needy, wanting, Caitlyn’s nails dragging through the tangles of Vi’s hair, drawing lines against the back of her neck, her skin, marking her too, it was just so—fuck.
Caitlyn wanted her. Caitlyn loved her. Her, alone.
And when they broke apart to pant, to breathe, Caitlyn had her blue eye on Vi. Despite the sharp words earlier, there was a happiness shining bright in that deep blue too.
The digging of Caitlyn’s fingers at the nape of Vi’s neck; Vi could tell Caitlyn was close, the woman’s panting increasing in tempo, her whines higher in pitch. Fuck, if the feel of Caitlyn hot and wet against her hand weren’t enough to already make her crazy, Vi would say the sounds Caitlyn made made Vi mad with love and obsession too—there was something about pleasing Caitlyn like this, making her happy, in this way, in a way only Vi could do that triggered something in Vi’s brain that drove her to the ends of the earth to get Caitlyn to fall off the edge.
A thumb against Caitlyn’s clit, then a third finger, and Caitlyn unraveled, collapsing onto Vi, weight and all. Vi slowed her pace just enough, letting Caitlyn ride out the rest of her orgasm as she caught her breath, her pants hot and heavy against Vi’s shoulder.
After a minute, Vi pulled out, and then rolled them over just so Caitlyn fell back on the bed, Vi hovering above her.
Proudly grinning, Vi asked, “Good?”
Navy hair splayed out in a messy tangle around her head, Caitlyn breathily chuckled, looking like heaven. “Adequate. You should try again. You might get a passing grade this time.”
“Harsh. You fail me a lot, teach.”
Caitlyn’s hands reached up again, cupping Vi’s face, lightly tugging to bring Vi down to her. With her lips brushing Vi’s, eye half-lidded, Caitlyn said, “Practice makes perfect.”
Another thing Vi loved about Caitlyn. Her stamina? Crazy. Vi really was damn lucky. Caitlyn could meet her at every level—in every way.
—-
They cuddled afterward. They always did. Even with sweat-covered skin, ruined sheets and exhausted bodies, Vi still liked having Caitlyn in her arms, the warmth of her, the softness of her.
Arms wrapped around Caitlyn’s torso, her lips ghosting the nape of Caitlyn’s neck, Vi murmured, “Fuck, I really do love you, Cait.”
Fingers brushed against Vi’s arm. “I know, love. I know.”
Just as Vi was about to doze off, though, Caitlyn shifted in her arms, and Vi blearily blinked, loosening her arms just enough for Caitlyn to turn over.
“What?” Vi mumbled.
“I was just…thinking, about tonight.”
Incredible. Incredible that Vi could fuck Caitlyn senseless and the woman would still find time to make her brain work after. Maybe Vi really did need lessons if Caitlyn so clearly wasn’t as worn out as Vi was after sex.
“About what?” Vi asked, pulling Caitlyn flush against her. Warm. Soft. So warm. So soft.
“I was thinking, about our date. I was originally a bit skeptical that you and I would need to do that,” Caitlyn said. “But I’ve realized—you’ve made me realize—that I like this, like spending time with you like this. I like purposefully knowing I’m choosing you. Choosing to spend time with you. Loving you, with intent, with purpose.”
“Yeah,” was all Vi’s brain could come up with in response.
Amused, Caitlyn said, “Tired, love?”
Closing her eyes and settling into Caitlyn’s embrace, Vi could only nod. “Let’s go on another date, babe.”
Maybe it was just her subconscious summoning the coherence needed to reply, but somewhere else in Vi was a proud approval, an understanding of what love was now between them both—their love was with intent, with purpose. They chose each other, despite everything, despite the world, despite all that had happened. In the end, they’d chosen each other.
And there was comfort in knowing they’d continue to do so after this, too. They’d choose each other, they’d choose to know and learn and acknowledge all these parts of them—big and small—that made them whole, and they’d choose to love every bit, every piece, every part.
The last thing Vi heard was Caitlyn’s soft chuckle, and the last thing she felt was Caitlyn’s hands, comfortably rubbing Vi’s back. “We will. And we’ll have more dates after, too.”