Work Text:
Caitlyn wasn’t a stranger to awkward conversation. She unknowingly spent much of her life the source of that awkwardness. She used to think it was a product of being surrounded by adults as a child, then she blamed the vapid young men and women that her mother threw her way as potential matches. After joining the Enforcers and interacting with intelligent, interesting, real people, Caitlyn had to admit to herself that she was the common denominator in all of the awkward circumstances that surrounded her.
“Caitlyn, you need to start considering your future,” Cassandra had told her so many times that Caitlyn sometimes woke up in the dead of night with those words echoing in her head. As if someone in her early twenties needed to procreate immediately.
Her father had told her once there was no shame in her lack of interest in romantic relationships, but the fact her mother was embarrassed by Caitlyn’s lack of experience—which she’d overheard once during a mortifying exchange between her parents—was painful in so many ways she didn’t like to think on it. Of course, Caitlyn’s father hadn’t helped when he teased, “Perhaps the problem is with the partners you choose for her, Cassie.”
“Oh, not you too!” Cassandra had gasped. “I stopped sending boys her way when she told me she wasn’t interested, and I’ve chosen intelligent, interesting, attractive young women of similar background. They’re excellent matches!”
“She wants to be an Enforcer right now, not a wife. I’d say you should broaden your horizons. Perhaps look for a young woman from the Sump.”
Now Caitlyn’s imagination supplied the line her mother might have retorted with: “Can you imagine it? She’d choose some ridiculous brute of a woman with facial tattoos and a criminal record to spite me!”
Caitlyn sighed now, pained by her poor attempt at conversation with a nervous man who had awkwardly excused himself. She looked down the corridor in the direction Vi had disappeared. No one in her life had ever so genuinely stated Caitlyn was attractive; she’d been so flustered she’d let herself be played.
She could retreat back to the street and wait to catch Vi on her way out, but she really didn’t want to pass by the bubble room again. That also ran the risk of Vi exiting a different way than she’d entered. Caitlyn did need information. She knew this was a test, but greater than the selfish desire to prove herself to Vi was the need to find evidence against Silco and return the hexgem to the safety of greater Piltover.
Simply put, this was work. She could talk to people for work.
Caitlyn tugged down her vest, gathered herself, and walked up the hallway. She peeked into the next booth and was relieved to find a young woman alone…a young woman who turned and revealed herself to be what Vi would certainly call ‘hot’.
You’re hot, Cupcake.
It shouldn’t mean anything, not from someone she’d known for a handful of hours. But unlike everyone else in her life, Vi had nothing to gain from the compliment. Caitlyn’s rebellious subconscious whispered that if someone as attractive as Vi thought Caitlyn was hot, she had a chance. At what, she refused to examine.
The woman’s room was an intriguing surprise, full of greenery and several approximations of foliage. It also sported a ceramic stag head mounted on the wall and a decorative bow and arrow statue. The wall behind it was cleverly painted to look like a forest.
The woman gave her a wary look through her pale mask, and Caitlyn sighed, allowing a smile at her own idiocy.
“Hello.”
“I’m not taking customers now.”
“I’m not—” Caitlyn cut herself off, alarmed at the squeak in her voice. “I’m not looking for that.”
“That?” the woman echoed. She studied Caitlyn across her pale mask with more interest. “Then why are you here? Reluctant tag-along? Or the one sober person at a stag party?”
Caitlyn leaned against the doorframe and mustered a smile. “I suppose the former characterization fits.”
“Whoever your date is, he’s an idiot for leaving you.”
The woman’s eyes wandered, and Caitlyn couldn’t control her blush.
“She,” Caitlyn clarified. “And, yes, she is.”
Interest was there. Even to Caitlyn, it was obvious. The masked woman drew closer; her wariness had dropped in favor of a slow smile. The expression was predatory enough that Caitlyn had to push away her instinct to excuse herself and escape. Work. This was work.
Caitlyn gave the woman time to protest before she stepped just past the threshold of the curtains and touched the ferns that took up much of the corner of the room. They were living, which was a surprise. The tree, in contrast, was cleverly crafted—real twigs with delicate paper flowers. A pleasant floral fragrance hung in the air.
“It’s beautiful. Did you make this?”
Caitlyn turned back to the woman in time to catch the flicker of her gaze down Caitlyn’s legs. “I did.”
“I don’t know if I’m more impressed that the fern is alive or by how realistic the blossoms are.” She gestured to the painting on the back wall. “And are you the artist?”
“Hm?”
“The mural.”
That earned another nod and what Caitlyn interpreted as a shy smile.
“It’s beautiful.”
“You’re sweet.”
Caitlyn wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. She studied the fake stag head mounted on the wall. “Do you hunt?”
“They’re just decorations. But I’d like to one day.”
She ghosted her fingertips over the bow and arrow statue. “I prefer a rifle myself, but there’s a silent elegance to bow and arrow.”
“Sit, please.”
“Thank you. May I ask your name?”
“Arty. You are?”
The embarrassing lie came to her, then Caitlyn decided she’d do far better with a version of the truth. “You can call me Caitie.”
“It suits you.”
At Arty’s gesture, Caitlyn set her rifle pack on the table beside them and settled in the middle of the couch. She took care to cross her leg in the direction of Arty and purposefully kept her posture open. The couch was old, springs squeaky, but it was the first comfortable place she’d rested since she’d left home the morning before. What a wild adventure she’d been on so far. And how wild that this was where she’d found herself.
Her mother would kill her if she ever found out Caitlyn had patronized an Undercity brothel.
“It’s like a true Ionian spring garden in here.”
“Have you been to one?”
“Yes, several years ago. It was springtime, one of the most beautiful times to visit.”
Arty settled on the smaller side of the couch, in the space Caitlyn had left for her. Her knees brushed Caitlyn’s thighs, and she leaned close. Caitlyn discovered the source of the fragrance of the room when Arty’s perfume settled around her. It was a good scent, not too strongly applied. She must have touched it to her neck.
“Will you describe it for me?”
Caitlyn mentally shook herself from her olfactory exploration, turned her gaze from the elegant line of Arty’s neck, and recalled her memories of the gardens. In painstaking detail, she described the smell, sounds, and sights of the handful of spring gardens she’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
“There are even some made entirely out of nonliving materials: rocks and sand and water. But they’re just as beautiful.”
“But surely they can’t smell as sensual.”
“Maybe not, but they’re crafted to reflect the beauty of sound. Water burbling over rock, the clack of reeds together… A wonderful place to just be.”
“You have such a way with words.”
Caitlyn couldn’t help her quiet laugh of disbelief at that statement. Then the mask slipped right off Arty’s face and into Caitlyn’s lap. Caitlyn caught it before it could tumble onto the floor. Arty gasped, giggling with a quiet, “Whoops!” It was startling enough to earn a giggle from Caitlyn too. She stroked her fingertips over the mask as she studied Arty’s face, which was just as pretty as the rest of her.
Arty leaned closer, her forearm brushing against Caitlyn’s. There was no way it wasn’t purposeful, especially not when Arty touched Caitlyn’s arm with her fingertip. “I’ve only ever imagined the gardens. This is all I’ve seen.”
“Your imagination has served you well.”
Arty smiled and scooted a little closer. A part of Caitlyn enjoyed her proximity, but the rest of her was counting the minutes. She was rapidly coming to realize that Vi wasn’t coming back for her. It didn’t take a genius to know she’d been ditched. Surely Vi had a contact here willing to give her information, but Caitlyn doubted she could march through this place and demand information without recourse.
Their conversation continued for a few more minutes before Caitlyn broached the topic. “Can I ask you a question?”
Arty’s smile widened, and she reached out to take Caitlyn’s hand. “You can ask. I’ll let you know if I require…” Arty’s thumb pressed firmly into Caitlyn’s palm. “...persuasion.”
Despite the situation, Caitlyn felt flushed with the sensation of static that tracked up her arm. She’d never felt the kind of physical sensation that Arty’s brief touch evoked. Work. This was work. “This is serious, unfortunately.”
At Caitlyn’s tone, Arty hesitated. Her smile dimmed. She gave a half nod that Caitlyn took as permission to continue.
“Does Silco ever come here?”
That resulted in an abrupt retreat. Arty sat back. Her expression went wary. “No. Not him.”
“Someone else within his circle perhaps?”
Arty glanced at the hallway and lowered her voice. “Sevika.”
Caitlyn’s automatic question was to ask who Sevika was, but that profession of ignorance would immediately cut off communication between them. Caitlyn leaned in, closing a fraction of the distance Arty opened between them. She kept her voice soft.
“Does Sevika patronize a particular employee here?”
For some reason, her words earned a snort before Arty hesitated and firmed. Gone was the giggly girl who’d been flirting with Caitlyn. “Miguel. He may be available. Stay here; I’ll be right back.”
It could be a trap. For the minutes that Caitlyn waited on the couch, she turned that possibility over in her mind. Then the room across the hall caught her attention despite her best intentions. She immediately looked away before positioning her hand so she could peek between her fingers more discreetly. It took her a moment of curious study to realize she saw not two but three women in various stages of undress sharing a pipe and…other things.
It was then that Arty stepped back through the vines that shrouded her booth. She followed Caitlyn’s shocked gaze and smiled impishly. “Come back tomorrow night if you’re looking for that experience.”
“Oh, I…” Surely it was rude to say that she would die of shock before she’d ever do whatever those women were doing with each other. The thought of just one woman was intimidating enough. It was a professional offer, perhaps, so... “Thank you?”
“I have an appointment in ten.” A man pushed into the room, brushing aside vines irritably. He studied Caitlyn with rising interest before he stepped past the threshold of the room. His brusk tone smoothed as he eyed Caitlyn. “But I could find an opening after that.”
Arty lowered her voice. “She doesn’t want you for that, Miguel. Do you know where Sevika is?”
Miguel’s irritability was back. “You’re the second person to ask me that tonight.”
“Who was the first?” Arty asked.
He’s gaze moved from Arty to Caitlyn. “Vi.”
Arty didn’t seem to recognize the name until Miguel said, “One of Vander’s.”
Caitlyn filed the name away, along with Arty’s reaction of surprise. More pertinent for her current situation, Caitlyn wondered how much time she had to catch up to Vi. “Did Vi say what she wanted with Sevika?”
“No, but it’s Vi,” Miguel scoffed. “The answer’s nothing good.”
Which meant Vi was going to do something reckless. Even with what little Caitlyn knew about the woman, it seemed par for the course. “Please, tell me what you told her. No one will know your involvement. I came here with Vi.”
Miguel exchanged a dubious look with Arty, but whatever he saw on Arty’s face made him roll his eyes and slump back against the wall. “Fine. It’s your funeral. Sevika has a group she plays cards with on seventh nights, down behind the old refinery.”
Based on Miguel’s abrupt retreat from the room, that was the end of his voluntary information, aside from his parting statement: “She’ll kill you. Better to spend the night with Arty and forget about Vi.”
“Where’s the refinery?” Caitlyn asked Arty.
In the time it took for them to return to the brothel’s back door, Arty filled in the information that Caitlyn needed, describing two turns, a few landmarks, and a stairway to avoid. Then with an abrupt smile, Arty stretched up to press a kiss against Caitlyn’s lips—lips catching lips and what Caitlyn realized a few seconds too late was the brush of her tongue.
“Come find me again, Matilda, granddaughter of a pirate. With or without Vi. Just leave the badge Topside.” Arty winked as Caitlyn’s heart went cold then hot all in one.
She’d been a mark from the start. Then again, Caitlyn had gotten exactly what she needed with the bonus of a kiss and the promise of future...pursuits if she chose to return. With her lips tingling pleasantly and the knowledge that her surname hadn’t been part of the transaction, Caitlyn couldn’t find it in herself to be upset. She watched Arty sashay away, closed her mouth, and shook her head to gather her wits again.
Time to rescue Vi from whatever trouble she’d gotten herself into.