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“Look Cupcake, I know you Piltover types love throwing parties to like, one up each other over inheritances or whatever, but is this really necessary?”
Vi’s voice echoes in the empty ballroom, and Caitlyn bites her lip to hold back a smile. There’s a gala tomorrow night for Piltover’s elite class and brightest minds—she and Vi are going to try to persuade more people of Vi’s plan to reclaim the Undercity from the Shimmer epidemic.
“I mean, unless you’re suddenly an expert on Piltover etiquette, I would say it’s quite necessary.”
Vi scoffs, blowing a strand of pink hair out of her eyes. “I still don’t get why I need etiquette for this. I can handle myself just fine.”
“I know you can. But you’re trying to gain the support of these Piltover types —they’re not going to listen if you don’t appeal to them.”
“What do they need fancy manners for, when they could just listen to me? My ideas aren’t enough? The lives of my people?”
“Honestly? No, they’re not.” Caitlyn holds up a hand before Vi can respond, “I understand you’re angry. I would be too—it’s frankly bullshit you need to
convince
them at all. But the Council is made of politicians. They’re not going to agree unless they know there will be a return on their investment—which means you need to win over the aristocrats.”
Vi crosses her arms over her chest. “ Bullshit is an understatement. They’re all cowards.”
“If it wasn’t for Jayce, I’d think there wasn’t a decent person at that table.”
“Like Jayce has always been on our side.”
“He’s been there when it counts. He’s with us now. Which means we’ve only six more people to convince.”
Vi rolls her eyes. “Hurray.”
Caitlyn walks over to her, places a placating hand on Vi’s shoulder. “Hey. We’ll save your people, alright? One way or another. I just want you to have the best possible chance at doing that—and right now, convincing the Council of your new plan is the most effective way for you to succeed.”
Vi looks at here for a moment, expression utterly unreadable even after the year Caitlyn’s known her.
“Fine,” a smirk makes itself at home on her face, “Teach me your ways, Master of Etiquette.”
Caitlyn grins, “That’s more like it. Or, well, it would be, if you were standing properly when you’d said it.”
“There’s a wrong way to stand? ”
This is going to take longer than she thought. “Yes. You’ve got to evenly distribute your weight— right now you’re leaning on your right. The aristocrats will read that as disinterest. You need to keep your back tall, chin up—no, not like that, that’s too far—shoulders square, hands either at your sides or folded at your back.”
Vi shuffles, squaring her posture and making adjustments to the way she’s standing. Caitlyn looks her over critically, clicking her tongue.
“You’ve got your shoulders too far back—here, let me.”
Carefully, she places a hand on either of Vi’s shoulders, shifting them slightly forward. Vi offers no resistance, and even through the layers of clothing, Caitlyn can feel lean muscle, hewn from years of training and fighting. She swallows, and feeling eyes on her, looks up.
Which was a mistake, because Vi is far too close for Caitlyn to function properly. Feeling her ears heat, Caitlyn clears her throat and takes a step backward, dropping her hands.
“Right, well. That looks good.”
Vi grins sharply, eyes half lidded in the way they get when she wants a rise out of Caitlyn. The sight shouldn’t make Caitlyn’s heart skip a beat. “My posture or me, Cupcake?”
Caitlyn wrinkles her nose and rolls her eyes, willing her blush down. “You already know the answer.”
Both , both, the answer is both. But Vi doesn’t need to know that.
Vi clutches her sternum, playing at offense. “Not even going to let me win once, huh, Cait?”
“You win enough already when you’re out fighting the Shimmer gangs. Your ego can take the hit.”
“Ouch, that’s cold, Cupcake, even for you.”
“Shut up. Anyway, I think you’ve got posture down—as long as you practice holding it on your own, you’ll be alright. What do you know about silverware?”
“I mean, forks, knives, and spoons, right? I grew up in a bar, Cupcake, I know what utensils are.” Vi pauses, considering. “If you’re going to tell me not to stab somebody, don’t worry, I won’t. Not in a fatal place, anyway, or unless they started it.”
Caitlyn snorts. “Please don’t pull a knife on anybody.”
“No promises.”
“You’re going to get us booted out of the city, aren’t you?”
Vi only grins at that, raising her arms in surrender. “I mean, I’ll try not to.”
“I’ll take what I can get. Anyway, Piltover silverware is a lot more complicated than just forks, knives, and spoons.”
“I thought rich people society couldn’t get any more stupid. Guess I was wrong about that, too.”
Caitlyn smiles wryly and pulls Vi over to one of the circular tables set up at the side of the ballroom. Vi’s fingers link comfortably with her own, and they walk together. Thankfully, whoever was meant to set up the room for the gala had already done their job, because the full regalia of Piltover silverware is present and lined up precisely. Vi’s eyes seem to bug out of her head as she takes in the display, and Caitlyn laughs at the sight.
“Do you know how much a set like this would go for in the Undercity when I was growing up? God, I bet that’s all real silver too. Just when I’m getting used to all this rich people shit, I see something like that, and— damn .”
Caitlyn… doesn’t really know how to reply to that. Even after all the time they’ve known each other, occasionally Vi will say things that remind her of just—all the privilege that she’s had, growing up how she did. She doesn’t want to seem like she’s ungrateful, or like she’s pitying Vi—that would only make things worse. Still, she clears her throat.
“Yeah. It—”she hesitates, choosing her words carefully, “We’ll get this wealth to your people, eventually. We’ll make things better for everyone.”
Vi looks at her then, and smiles openly. Caitlyn feels pressure on her hand, and belatedly realizes she’s still holding Vi’s. She squeezes back, unable to help the soft expression that crosses her face then.
Honestly, they’ve been dancing around each other so long Caitlyn would be surprised if Vi didn’t know how she felt. They’ve never done anything about it, though, so it sits silently between them, an open secret neither are willing to touch.
Sometimes, Caitlyn wants to break the silence. Scream her feelings until one of them finally does something about it.
For now, though, she takes her hand back and tries to explain cutlery etiquette in the easiest way she knows how.
“Alright,” she begins, “Silverware is easier than it looks, I swear. There’s a trick to it—just start by using whatever is on the outermost ends, and change what you’re using for every course. It’s laid out so you move inward a set every time a new dish is brought out. When you’re finished with a dish, just put your fork and knife parallel to each other on your plate, and that’s essentially all you need to know.”
“Why would you ever need that many spoons, though?”
Caitlyn shrugs. “Don’t ask me. I didn’t come up with this.”
“I wouldn’t put up with you if you did.” Vi pauses, “Is there anything else I need to know for tomorrow night?”
“Other than rhetoric? Not much, honestly. And even concerning the way you speak, you’ll probably be fine if you use the proper greetings and honorifics, and as long as you aren’t too rude.”
“Agh, Cupcake, being rude to Pilties is my specialty. Practically my trademark.”
Caitlyn raises an eyebrow. “You can deal without a trademark for a night. Call it an investment.”
“Jeez, now you’re beginning to sound like one of the council assholes.”
“I mean, I
was
raised by a councilmember.”
Talking about her mother still hurt, even in the two years since she’d died in Jinx’s attack, but Caitlyn could at least bring her up in casual conversation now without feeling like the world was ending. Vi brushes her arm against Caitlyn’s, and knowing the contact is there because Vi wants to reassure her brings a soft smile to her face.
“Well,” Vi says, “That’s a relief. At least one of us will know what they’re doing at this gala.”
“That’s not true—you better know what you’re doing now, or I’ll have been teaching you for nothing.”
Vi laughs. “Don’t worry, Cupcake. I’ll make you proud.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Vi’s answering smile is something Caitlyn has seen thousands of times before, but the apprehension that cuts through it is much newer. Vi’s brow furrows almost imperceptibly for a moment before her grin shrinks into something smaller, something nervous that looks so out of place on her even as it makes the hair on the back of Caitlyn’s neck stand on end.
“You sure you aren’t forgetting, uh, other things that people do at fancy parties like these?”
Caitlyn tilts her head, “Other things?”
“You know—it can’t all be talking and eating, right? You’ve gotta do things for fun at these things, or nobody would come, right?”
“I mean, I suppose. I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
Vi takes a breath, and confidence overcomes her like a mask as she leans into Caitlyn’s space, smile crooked in its daring even as it makes Caitlyn’s mouth go dry. “I’m asking you to teach me to dance, Cupcake.”
To— oh . Caitlyn is an idiot, and has signed off on her own execution. She can’t stop the heat that fills her face, and she knows that she’s bright red.
“You—you want me to dance with you?” It comes out higher pitched than she’d like, but Vi only nods.
“You did say you’d teach me how to act at these things. I don’t want to literally step on anyone’s toes.”
“That’s… I did say that.” She can’t think straight like this, with Vi in her space talking about dancing together—
“Look,” Vi says, leaning back, face slightly pinker than usual, “If you don’t want to, that’s fine by me. Just don’t blame me when these assholes call me rude for not like, dancing with them, or whatever.”
“No! No, it’s not that. I’ll teach you.” Caitlyn considers, “We’re going to need music, though. I’ll put something on.”
It doesn’t take long for Caitlyn to walk over to the jukebox at the head of the room and pick out a record. It’s likely to have similar songs to the ones that will be performed live at the gala, and she listens as the sound of harpsichords and violins fill the air. When she turns, Vi stands there, posture perfect and head held high.
“May I have this dance?”
Caitlyn nods, smiling “You may. Where’d you learn the proper saying?”
“Believe it or not, my parents used to dance with each other in our kitchen all the time before they died. It was what they’d say to each other before they did.”
“That was sweet of them.”
“Yeah. I… don’t actually know what to do now, though, so if you could like, show me?” Vi rubs the back of her neck.
Caitlyn swallows. “Right. I guess I’ll lead then, so I can teach you properly.”
She steps closer, guiding one of Vi’s hands to her shoulder and holding the other between them, intertwining their fingers. Her other hand comes to rest in the curve of Vi’s waist, pressing gently against the muscle there. They’re a little less than a foot apart, which shouldn’t be a problem—they’ve certainly been closer before. The air here is different though, in the ballroom. The silence of the things they don’t say crackle between them, almost given voice by the melody of string instruments. Almost given voice, but not quite.
“It’s a three-step dance, a waltz. You shouldn’t need to know anything more complicated than this tomorrow.”
“Right.” Vi sounds almost distracted, but Caitlyn wills herself to focus. It actually is a good idea for Vi to know how to dance, and she’s determined not to ruin this with her feelings. The silence is there for a reason. If Vi wanted it, she would’ve done something by now.
“Okay, so, I’m going to step forward with my left foot, and when I do, you should step backward with your right. Then I’m going to step sideways with my other foot, and you should follow me. The only thing left after that is to bring your feet together.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
“Let’s hope you don’t break my toes.”
Vi grins, “I’ll try not to.”
Caitlyn steps forward, gently guiding Vi backward, and they’re off. It doesn’t go terribly—they’ve sparred with each other enough times now that they know the way the other moves, but it certainly isn’t the smooth movements that Caitlyn knows can only come with more practice. Vi keeps looking at her feet, so cautious in her movements that she’s stiff.
“Hey,” Caitlyn says, more quietly than is strictly necessary, “you don’t have to keep staring at your feet. Even if you do mess up, it’s just me.”
Vi laughs, but it’s more subdued than usual, and Caitlyn knows she feels the silence too. “That’s exactly why I don’t want to fuck up, Cupcake. It’s you.”
Caitlyn feels her blush come back in full force. “I won’t hold it against you. You can look up.”
Vi does, and from this close, Caitlyn can count the freckles on her skin, see each pale eyelash and scar and blemish. She’s beautiful, and it steals her breath away.
Vi does step on her toes once or twice, but Caitlyn’s too caught up in the blush on her face to really mind.
As they step together, their movements meld into one another—they’re fluid now, giving and taking in equal measure. Perfectly in sync. They’re not as elegant as professional dancers—how could they be? But there’s beauty there, in the way they move together, in the echo of violins and the negative space of things left unsaid.
The song fades out eventually, transitioning into something much slower, something heavier with implication and suggestion. Caitlyn can feel the composer’s emotions in the initial crescendo of violins, the sound of want carrying over even through the tinny jukebox speakers.
She goes to move away, certain that Vi will not want her there, not to a song like this—surely she can feel it too, the affection in each note—but as she disentangles their fingers, Vi’s arms move to wrap slowly around her neck. When it becomes clear Caitlyn doesn’t know what to do, Vi huffs and guides Caitlyn’s other arm to loop around her waist before dropping her head onto Caitlyn’s collarbone.
The rhythmic warmth of breath against her neck sends blood to Caitlyn’s face, and she’s thankful that Vi cannot see it.
“I don’t know if you have slow dancing Topside, but it’s pretty common back in the Undercity.” Vi’s voice is softer than usual, barely audible over the music. “Let me teach you something. Make up for all you did today.”
Caitlyn forces herself to swallow, gingerly resting her cheek against Vi’s head. Her hair isn’t particularly soft, but it’s ridiculously nice against Caitlyn’s skin.
“I’d like that.”
Slow dancing isn’t anything like waltzing. She and Vi turn in slow circles to the rhythm of the music, steps slow and languid and almost formless in their composition. It’s awfully nice, and Caitlyn’s eyes slip closed, getting lost in the feel of it, the unhurried press of Vi’s body against her own. She can almost pretend, when they sway like this, that the silence isn’t there.
Everything is warm and honeyed and unmoored from time. They could have been swaying there for five minutes or thirty, and all Caitlyn knows is that when they finally stop, the music is no longer playing, and hasn’t been for a while.
Vi moves away, no longer flush against her, and Caitlyn tries not to mourn the loss of warmth. Her arms remain wrapped around her neck, though, and so Caitlyn makes no effort to remove her own. Vi stares at her then, that same unreadable expression from before settling on her face, this time for longer.
Her eyes seem to roam all over Caitlyn’s face, making her feel almost naked under Vi’s gaze. She tracks the movement from her own eyes to her cheeks, down, down, until they settle on—
Settle on—
It can’t be right, can’t be possible given the oppressive silence, given the two years of nothing , given everything that hasn’t happened between them, but Vi’s eyes settle on Caitlyn’s lips.
They settle, and they stay there, and then slowly, inexorably, Vi is leaning in, closer and closer. She pauses a hair’s breadth from Caitlyn’s mouth, and Caitlyn cannot move, cannot speak for fear of breaking the moment.
“Can I?”
The request is barely a whisper, but the silence is broken.
Caitlyn nods, already dizzy on the feeling of warm breath against her mouth, and then their lips meet and oh , she should’ve broken the silence herself years ago, because she could’ve had this.
It’s so warm, even warmer than the dancing had been, and Caitlyn feels floodgates open within her, or a dam break, or a torrential fall of rain because she’s never felt so full on happiness. It drips through her blood and pools in between her ribs, intoxicating and hearty in equal measure, and she must never have been kissed properly before, because it’s never felt like this .
Time truly must not mean a damn thing anymore, here in this untethered ballroom, because Caitlyn genuinely cannot gauge how much of it has passed when they finally pull away from each other for want of air.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for too damn long, Cupcake,”
“You—I…we just. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Vi laughs, hearty and loud, and Caitlyn can feel her shake between her arms. “Did I kiss the brains out of you? Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve been flirting with you for more than a year!”
“You’ve what? ” Caitlyn feels like she’s losing her mind, suddenly recontextualizing every interaction they’ve ever shared. And… that is quite a lot of mounting evidence that Caitlyn is stupid .
Vi steals a soft kiss from her that quickly turns into several before she pulls away again. “Mmm, I didn’t think you were that dense, Cupcake. You kept blushing when I did flirt, so I figured you must’ve liked me. I didn’t want to push it too far though. Thought you just didn’t want anything to happen between us.”
“I’m an idiot ,” Caitlyn says with feeling.
Vi’s grinning now, wide and victorious. “You’re good at nearly everything else, cut yourself some slack. We figured it out, yeah?”
“ Yeah . God, I just—we could’ve been doing this for so long.”
“Well, I don’t plan on going anywhere. We have all the time in the world now.”
Caitlyn knocks her forehead against Vi’s, reveling in the fact that she can do that now, without the silence breathing down her neck. “We’d better, Darling.”
Vi pulls away as though she’d been shocked, eyes wide and face coloring. “Darling?”
Caitlyn can’t help her smile, and shrugs. “You call me Cupcake. I figured I should return the favor. It’s polite. Plus, I’ve been wanting to call you that for a while.”
“I mean. Politeness is a part of etiquette lessons, right?”
Caitlyn snorts. “You can just say you enjoy it, Darling.”
Darling , Vi mouths again, disbelieving. Caitlyn only grins.