Work Text:
“You and I both know it’s long past your bedtime. Why’re you still up?”
Caitlyn doesn’t know if she’d simply been so focused that she hadn’t heard the door opening or if sleep deprivation had finally started dulling her senses, but Vi nearly startles her out of her skin.
“I’m not a child, Vi, I don’t have a bedtime.” Arms work their way loosely around her shoulders. It only takes Caitlyn a brief glance up to find that Vi looks distinctly unamused. “I slept, don’t you worry.”
“It’s four in the morning,” Vi points out, not buying her excuses for a second. “You couldn’t have slept more than a few hours at most. We didn’t get home ‘til after midnight.”
“Mmm. I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep,” Caitlyn explains, turning her attention back to her paperwork. Some days it feels as if the pile of it on her desk simply never stops growing. As soon as she finishes with one file, three more always seem to show up out of nowhere—each thicker than the last and all equally important. “I thought I might as well use the time productively instead of just lying about doing nothing. I don’t exactly have a shortage of things to do right now, as I’m sure you know.”
“Oh, I know. And trust me, I have thoughts on that too, but that isn’t something that’s up for discussion at ass o’clock in the morning. You know damn well that there are better ways to deal with not being able to sleep than going back to work.” Warm breath brushes Caitlyn’s shoulder as Vi lets out a small sigh and asks, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Caitlyn hums. “You needed the sleep,” she says, as if it were obvious.
“So did you,” Vi counters, “and yet for some reason you’re still up and about at night like a misbehaving teenager. How curious.” Lips gently press against Caitlyn’s jaw for a chaste kiss before pulling back and asking, “How about explaining that one for me, Sheriff?” The lilting way Vi says her job title borders between proud and teasing and she pauses for a moment before she adds, “Do keep in mind that anything you say can and will be used against you in court.”
“I already did. I couldn’t sleep and I have work that needs doing. Why are you up?”
Vi’s answer is near instantaneous. “Had to piss, you weren’t there when I woke up to take said piss, and wrong answer. Try again.”
By now Caitlyn knows Vi well enough to know that any answer she could give won’t cut it. “What do you want me to say, Vi?”
“It’s not so much what I want you to say, cupcake, as what I want you to do,” Vi pulls back and moves to rub at Caitlyn’s shoulders with her hands. “And what I want you to do right now is to get your ass up out of your big, fancy chair in your big, fancy office and back into your big, fancy bed asleep where it should be.”
Caitlyn lets out a hum. “And if I say no?”
“If you said no it’d be a shame,” Vi informs her, dead serious, “because I’m not asking.”
As much as Caitlyn would love to oblige, she can’t. Not tonight. “Neither is the council, unfortunately. They’ve been breathing down my neck like rabid dogs for the past few weeks. They want detailed plans and policies laid out, and soon.” Vi's not stupid, she knows this as well as Caitlyn does.
“Sucks for the council then, because I don’t really give a shit what they want. You. Bed. Now.”
“Alright, alright,” Caitlyn acquiesces. “Give me just a moment to finish what I’m working on.” If she finishes this, it should be enough to hold things over until tomorrow morning, at the very least. And if she gets up early, she should be able to make sure everything is well in order before—
As she’s done many, many times before, Vi cuts off Caitlyn’s train of thought.
“Warmer, but still not quite the right answer.” She leans forward as if to peek down at what Caitlyn had been working on before reaching over with one arm and snatching it out from under her. “This can wait ‘til the morning.”
“No, Vi, you don’t understand, I really need to—”
“Go to bed? You’re absolutely right.” Vi finishes for her, shutting the file—without saving her spot on page four, much to Caitlyn’s dismay. “Glad we’re finally on the same page. Here, let me help you.”
And then Caitlyn’s chair is abruptly pulled back from her desk and turned around—all while she’s still in it.
“Hi, beautiful.” Vi grins at her before turning around and squatting down slightly, hands working their way under Caitlyn’s legs to grab at her thighs. Once she’s satisfied she has a good grip, Vi stands up again with a grunt and an, “Up you go!”
Caitlyn’s arms move to loosely drape around Vi’s neck as if they have a mind of their own, the traitors that they are. “This is really rather unnecessary,” she grumbles.
After adjusting her grip and shifting Caitlyn slightly on her back, Vi raises an eyebrow and glances over her shoulder for a moment to check that Caitlyn is secure before starting the trek back to their bedroom. “So you’re telling me you would have gone to bed on your own? I know you can’t lie for shit, but even for you, this is a pretty bad one.”
“I likely would have gone to bed soon,” Caitlyn protests, resting her head to the steady up and down rhythm of Vi’s footsteps. “Maybe not now, but soon.”
“Uh huh,” Vi says, not at all convinced. “And by ‘go to bed soon’ do you mean grab a cup of tea in fifteen minutes and pass out at your desk around five? Because that’s what happened the last time you said that.”
While that may be true, it had only happened once. Work late a few times and you’re a hard worker, but pass out at your desk once and you’re apparently branded a workaholic forever. Ridiculous, really. “It wouldn’t have happened this time,” she insists, before she’s interrupted by a yawn. Her eyes are painfully droopy, she realizes. Perhaps she could close them for just a little while. “Promise.”
“I’ll believe you the day I actually see you hold a promise like that. For now, you need sleep, okay? No more arguing. Just rest.”
The only answer Vi gets is a hum and a mumble of something unintelligible that vaguely sounds like something along the lines of “okay.” With a huff, she picks up the pace slightly. The sooner she gets Caitlyn back into bed and off to sleep, the better.
Caitlyn hasn’t said anything in a few minutes by the time Vi nears the edge of their bed. “Alright, show’s over, time to get off, sweetheart.”
There’s no response but for slow, soft breaths by her ear and the steady rise and fall of Caitlyn’s chest against her back.
The last time Caitlyn woke up to sunlight peeking through her curtains, everything had gone to hell the night before. Early to rise, early to work has been a philosophy she’s lived by since she was old enough to set her own schedule and choose her own career path, so she won’t lie, when she wakes needing to squint away from the sun, she panics a little bit. Because if the sun’s already up—and far enough up in the sky to shine through her window at an angle that directly hits her eyes, to boot—she should have been at the office hours ago. Shit.
She moves to sit up, but an arm not-so-loosely wrapped around her stomach keeps her from getting very far.
“And where do you think you're going? You’re sick today,” Vi says, “lie back down. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Excuse me? I'm not sick, I feel fine.” Aside from the fact she’d woken up horribly, horribly, late, that is. That decidedly does not have her feeling fine.
“According to everyone at the office, you caught a nasty stomach flu. You know, the throwing-up, constantly on the shitter kind. Not really something you want to go spreading around.” With a knowing smile, she adds, “Should be gone by tomorrow though, from what I hear. You can go back to work then.”
Oh, she did not. “Vi, I have a meeting with the council today, you can’t just—”
“I can just, actually. Wonder Boy’s got it on lock. The only thing you need to do today is sit here and look pretty. Everything else is already taken care of.”
“What? How?” Surely she can’t be serious. “The council meeting couldn’t be rescheduled—I tried, multiple times, but they insisted it had to be today because their time is apparently more valuable than mine—and Jayce can’t present for me when he hasn’t done any prepwork, or… or anything of the sort, really.” Caitlyn wants to continue with a slew of other issues, but she's quickly cut off.
“He didn’t, but you sure did.” Vi uses her free hand to prop her head up on her elbow. “I didn’t really look at 'em, but you wrote a fuckin’ textbook’s worth of notes for today. Pretty Boy’s got more than enough to work with; he’s a smart guy, between him and his boyfriend he’ll figure it out. Besides, even without your notes, I’m pretty sure he’s got like, half the council wrapped around his finger right now. Hopefully he can get the rest of them to stop riding your ass constantly.” The arm around Caitlyn squeezes tighter for a moment and Vi confidently proclaims, “I really hope he does, ‘cause that’s my job, not theirs.”
Caitlyn lightly smacks Vi’s forearm and groans. “Really? This early?”
Vi barks out a laugh. “Hate to break it to you, but it hasn’t been early for a few hours now. Good afternoon, princess. How’d you sleep?”
“Well, actually.” Better than she has in a while, if she’s being honest. She’ll reluctantly admit that Vi had made the right choice in dragging her out of her office, but not to her face. Not that that really matters when Vi can read her like an open book, but to her pride, it’s everything.
“Good. You definitely needed it.” The hand draped over Caitlyn’s torso gently moves to wrap around her hand and gives it a small squeeze. “You’ve gotta delegate your work, Cait. You’re gonna work yourself to death if you keep this up.”
“I do delegate.” And it’s the truth—almost everything that she can hand off, she does. The fact that there’s still as much work to do as there is even given that makes her shudder to even think of what her workload would look like otherwise.
The look she gets in return briefly makes Caitlyn feel like a scolded child. “Clearly not enough. I know you always get all up in a twist that things won’t get done to your standards if you don’t do them yourself, but you’ve really gotta learn to ask for help sometimes.”
Caitlyn leans her head back to shoot Vi an incredulous look that all but screams, Pot, meet kettle.
“Okay, okay, fair. I’m not exactly the best at asking for help either. It’s not easy, y’know? Having to admit you’re out of your league—it’s a shitty feeling.” Vi’s fingertips run a soothing trail across Caitlyn’s knuckles and she gives her hand another squeeze. “Not that you’re out of your league here. You’re fantastic at what you do, you’re smart, you’re capable, and like a bajillion other things I don’t have the words for right now, but even still, you’re only one person. And one person can’t do everything.”
“I know.” Caitlyn lets go of Vi’s hand and rolls over to face her with a small sigh. “I just don’t have anyone else to hand things off to right now.”
Vi raises an eyebrow. “I am literally right here.”
“I…” Caitlyn wants to explain herself, but finds that she really can’t. Because Vi’s right. She is literally right there. And she’s capable, and brave, and trustworthy, and a bajillion other things Caitlyn doesn’t have the words for right now. Ideally she had wanted to wait for all of the bureaucracy to be sorted out before doing this, but perhaps bending the rules just once more wouldn’t hurt. “You’re right. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to lend a hand for a bit? Just until things get settled?”
“Why stop at just one? I’ve got two hands, you can have both.” Vi pauses for a moment and smirks. Caitlyn lightly smacks her arm again. “I didn’t even say anything!”
“You were thinking it,” Caitlyn tells her. She purses her lips and frowns ever so slightly, but there’s no furrowed eyebrows or scrunched up nose to go with it. (The blush creeping its way up to Caitlyn’s ears says everything Vi needs to know. It's the real reason she takes such joy in things like this: Caitlyn's reactions never fail to be entertaining.)
“My bad, didn’t realize thoughts were illegal now too. I’ll keep that in mind.” Vi shakes her head slightly before leveling Caitlyn with a determined stare. “But jokes aside, of course I’ll help you. I was just waiting for you to ask.” If there’s one thing Vi knows for a fact that Caitlyn despises, it’s being underestimated. It’s one thing they have in common—they both hate being looked down on, and neither of them want any part of anyone’s charity. “I’m always happy to watch your six. Even if that means doing some of your stupid, shitty paperwork every once in a while, I’ve got you covered.”
Lowering the elbow propping her head up, Vi sighs and rolls over to lie flat on her back and puts her arms behind her neck. “I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she continues, “I hate desk duty, but these days patrols kinda suck, y’know? You’re stuck in the office what feels like all the time, the crime rate’s way down thanks to some hotshot new sheriff’s hard work so I’m not getting quite as much action as I used to—” (This time, Vi manages not to smirk, but only just.) “—and I’ve discovered that things get real boring real quick when I can’t look at your pretty face all the time on the clock. Without you, it’s just not the same.”
Heat rushes to Caitlyn’s cheeks. “Flatterer.”
“No flattery here. Just callin’ things like I see ‘em.”
“Part of the reason I’ve been so busy lately, actually,” Caitlyn admits, “is that apparently designating someone as deputy sheriff takes a lot of paperwork—and a lot of people’s approval.”
Vi blinks and takes a moment to process before it hits her. “Then the council meeting today was…?”
“Was about you, yes,” Caitlyn answers with a nod. “It’s why I wanted to make sure it went perfectly. As you can probably guess, some of the councilors weren’t exactly thrilled about the idea of having you as deputy sheriff, so I wanted to make it clear that I’m not asking. In this case, I don’t really give a hoot what they think. If I get bumped up in rank, you come with me—no exceptions. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
The grin that curls its way upon Vi’s face threatens to split her face in half. “I hope you know that the same goes for you.” Springing up in an instant, Vi’s arm wraps around Caitlyn’s torso again and drags her closer—closer, until they’re all but pressed against each other, closer, until Vi can make out all the little streaks in the irises of those beautiful blue eyes she’s come to be so obsessed with. “I’m afraid,” she says, attempting to mimic Caitlyn’s usual manner of speech at first before promptly giving up, “that you’re gonna have to put up with my bullshit for quite a while longer.”
Caitlyn hums. “My schedule’s been quite packed recently, but I think I can manage to fit you in. Are you free, perhaps…” she twists up her face as if seriously thinking about it before finishing her question with, “now? My day’s been suddenly freed up, apparently.”
“Funny,” Vi says, leaning forward and pressing a smile and a chuckle into the crook of Caitlyn’s neck, “I was about to say the same thing about mine. Came down with a nasty stomach flu that’s been going around the office—the throwing-up, constantly on the shitter kind. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it?”