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A single lamp flashes on, shining bright in the complete darkness of the room around them.
The woman sitting before her squints, blinking as she tries to adjust to the sudden light. Her hands come up to shield her eyes, and the handcuffs around her wrists clink with the movement. “Is that really necessary?”
“I’ll ask the questions here,” Caitlyn replies curtly. “Firstly, what is your name?”
The woman smirks, hands falling to rest in her lap. “Whatever you want it to be, baby.”
Caitlyn grips the back of her head and slams it into the table.
“What the fuck!” the woman sputters, groaning as she picks her head back up to glare at Caitlyn. “What is wrong with you, seriously?”
Caitlyn lifts her chin, icy gaze not breaking. “Let’s try this one more time,” she says slowly. “What is your name?”
The woman’s nostrils flare. “Vi,” she finally grits out.
“And why do you think I’ve brought you in here today, Vi?”
Vi scoffs. “I think you can answer that fine on your own, cupcake.”
Two months earlier
It starts as any other day.
Caitlyn stares at herself in the mirror for a solid minute, carefully crafting her hardened expression. She clips her flashlight, taser, and pepper spray to her belt, checking then double checking to make sure each are in prime position for her to grab in a pinch.
No lowlife would be catching Caitlyn unprepared. Not on her watch.
She straightens her tie and badge, the gleaming gold metal freshly shined and pristine against the white shirt of her uniform.
“Maintain the order,” Caitlyn tells herself, her daily mantra. “Maintain the peace.”
Then she opens the door-
And steps right into a bucket full of soapy water.
Caitlyn hisses out a breath. “Damnit, Gary,” she says, looking over at the janitor mopping just outside the break room bathroom. “I thought we’d talked about this. You can’t be leaving your bucket in front of doorways like this.”
Gary winces. “Sorry, Cait. I have some extra socks in my locker if you want them.”
“No, that’s alright,” she sighs, pulling her foot out of the water. It lands back on the ground with a displeasing squish and Caitlyn grimaces. “I’m sure it will dry eventually.”
Caitlyn goes about her usual morning routine, every other step squelching uncomfortably. She walks the span of the mall, checking that the shops are all still secure from being locked up during the night. Progress Mall boasts exactly 102 shops, and Caitlyn is responsible for the security and safety of each and every one.
The mall opens at precisely 10 AM, some morning crowd folks trickling slowly in as the day goes by. Caitlyn does her rounds, keeping her eyes peeled for any suspicious behavior. At one point a little boy comes up to her, crying about how he’s lost his mother, and Caitlyn spends the next ten minutes helping him locate her. It’s when she’s just reunited them that Caitlyn first sees her.
The Neon Spot is a quiet little art shop located at the far end of the mall. Its patrons are typically on the more creative looking spectrum, naturally: brightly colored hair, tattoos, piercings. Admittedly, Caitlyn never pays it much attention.
Which is why she doesn’t notice the pink-haired woman swiping a can of spray paint off the shelf and shoving it into her hoodie pocket until it’s too late.
Caitlyn narrows her eyes and walks away from the mother and son, tracking her target’s movements. The pink-haired woman is casually making her way toward the front doors to the mall when Caitlyn gets close enough to speak to her.
“Stop right there!”
The woman glances over her shoulder, eyes widening slightly when she realizes she’s been caught. However, instead of stopping like Caitlyn had told her to, she starts running, zipping out the front doors in a flash.
Caitlyn curses and sprints for the exit, automatic doors sliding open only to reveal no pink hair in sight. She paces on the sidewalk for a minute, head craning in hopes of catching sight of her with no success.
With a huff, Caitlyn stalks back inside, mind already going over her mistakes and what she could have done differently.
Next time she saw that woman, she wouldn’t be so easily evaded.
* * *
It’s two weeks before Caitlyn sees the pink-haired thief again; two weeks of skipping breaks and eating lunch while on duty, patrolling the end of the mall near the art store. She’d taken to drinking more coffee, too, in order to ensure she was fully awake and alert if she spotted a familiar pink head amongst the crowds of shoppers.
Their long-awaited reunion couldn’t have come on a more perfect day.
It was a slow day at Progress Mall, typical for a Wednesday afternoon. Wednesdays were also one of Caitlyn’s days with one of the mall’s two segways, which was decidedly a good thing when she sees someone reach out and slip a few paintbrushes into their pocket, their pink hair conspicuously tucked under a black hood.
With a smirk, Caitlyn turns on the segway’s police light and steers herself over to the art store just as Pinky is walking out. Her siren gives a little wop-wop and the thief looks up in alarm, blue lights flashing across wide eyes. Now that she’s closer, Caitlyn can make out her features better: pale skin, lightly freckled cheeks, a roman numeral VI tattooed under one eye.
Shame. If she weren’t such a dirty rotten thief, Caitlyn would almost call her attractive.
“Hand over the stolen merchandise,” Caitlyn orders her in a clear voice. On the segway she towers over the other woman, and she uses that to her advantage, glowering down at her. “Or I will be forced to pursue more aggressive measures.
The thief – Six, Caitlyn resorts to calling her – snorts, evidently getting over her earlier surprise at being caught. “This is cute,” she says, gesturing at Caitlyn’s segway. She reaches out a hand to touch the blue flashing light with a smirk. “Did you add the night light on yourself?”
Caitlyn jerks the segway back, away from Six’s touch. “This is an official security transport,” she informs the woman, eyes narrowing. “And I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you in for questioning.”
Six shows no visible concern at Caitlyn’s words. “Yeah, not gonna happen, cupcake. In fact, I’m not sure I even know what you’re accusing me of here. I’m just trying to get some shopping done.”
Caitlyn’s nostrils flare and she steps off the segway, stepping closer to the thief. She’s still taller by a good few inches, and she uses those inches to look as imposing as possible. “Empty your pockets,” she says. “Now.”
Six’s smirk doesn’t waver. She leans in close, close enough that Caitlyn can make out little flecks of blue in her grey eyes, and says, “I’m gonna have to pass.”
And then she’s sprinting away, weaving effortlessly between the people around them. Caitlyn curses and hops back on the segway, siren whooping as she chases after her. She pulls off the walkie talkie attached to her shoulder and clicks on the call button. “We have an active hostile en route to south end side,” she barks into the receiver, eyes locked on her target, “first level, Request for immediate backup, over.”
When the only response she gets is static, Caitlyn scowls and clips the walkie talkie back into place. “Guess I’m going solo,” she mutters to herself, and urges the segway to go faster.
Six is surprisingly and frustratingly agile. She dodges people and trashcans alike, sidestepping and leaping over anything in her way. Whenever she glances behind her to see how far back Caitlyn is, there’s always a smug smile on her face, which only infuriates Caitlyn and pushes her to move faster. She’s almost caught up when they reach an escalator, which Six bounds up without hesitation. With another curse, Caitlyn leaps off her segway, abandoning it in favor of following the thief on foot.
“Out of the way!” Caitlyn barks at two women standing in the middle of the escalator, startling them as they press against the sides of belt. Six darts through them a moment later, taking the steps three at a time, Caitlyn hot on her heels.
Six doesn’t bother reaching the top of the escalator, opting to vault over the side and onto the railing above, landing smoothly and nimbly running along the railing with her arms out on either side of her for balance. Caitlyn barrels through the top of the escalator, making a beeline for the thief, only for Six to flip over her head and make run for the food court.
“Bloody hell,” Caitlyn grumbles, panting lightly, and continues her pursuit. It quickly becomes clear, however, that she’s totally out of her depth as Six bounds from table to table, all the while smiling and snagging people’s fries right out of their hands as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Meanwhile, Caitlyn struggles to navigate the crowded eating area, apologizing both for herself and on behalf of the thief while she squeezes between tables.
Just as she’s beginning to wonder where, exactly, Six plans to go – they are on the second floor, after all – she gets her answer: a window panel has been removed for replacement, the old one having had a hairline crack running through it for the past few weeks. Caitlyn curses the timing of the whole thing and gasps out a warning to the workers surrounding the window. “Block that exit!”
It's not the best warning, Caitlyn can admit that much. The workers look around in confusion, clearly looking for a door with an exit sign above it, but Caitlyn is far too exasperated and out of breath to think of a clearer explanation. Moments later, Six is trampling through the workers and leaping through the opening without hesitation.
Caitlyn races to the window and sticks her head out, chest heaving as she watches Six tuck and roll against the pavement below, popping back up smoothly without breaking her stride. Then, in a clear act of defiance, she turns and salutes up at Caitlyn, jogging backwards with a grin on her face for a few seconds before turning back around and sprinting around the corner, out of Caitlyn’s sight.
“Shit,” Caitlyn hisses, breathing slowly evening out. Behind her, she hears one of the maintenance workers let out a noise of understanding.
“Ohhh, that exit!”
* * *
The next month and a half of Caitlyn’s life proceeds in an unfortunate cat-and-mouse game- the mouse in this instance having messy pink hair and an inclination towards theft. It seems that every few days Caitlyn finds herself running after the pink-haired woman through the mall, surely looking as though she was on some sort of wild goose chase all the while.
Too many animal analogies. Caitlyn needed to stop watching Tom and Jerry before bed.
To make matters worse, it seemed as though Six enjoyed their little game. She was getting sloppy in her tactics, putting on a show. Before swiping something off a shelf, she’d look around until she made eye contact with Caitlyn, knowing she was always watching close by, then that stupid, sly grin would slide onto her face and she’d waltz out of the store, completely unbothered.
It reminded Caitlyn eerily of the way her cat would make sure Caitlyn was watching before pushing a cup off the table.
Okay, really, no more animal analogies. Because now Caitlyn couldn’t decide if Six was the cat or the mouse and- ugh. Never mind.
The woman always had something to say to purposely rile Caitlyn up, too. Always a flirtatious quip that would leave Caitlyn flustered just long enough for her to get away. Always a comment of “At least buy a girl dinner first” or “You’re really pretty for a mall cop, you know.”
If Caitlyn wasn’t so gay, and if this woman wasn’t so criminally attractive, Caitlyn is positive she would have caught her by now.
Hours have been devoted to strategizing on how to catch this thief, routes mapped out in the break room over coffee and donuts. Gary the janitor becomes her closest confidant, acting as a sound board for Caitlyn to bounce ideas off of and giving suggestions in return.
“Why don’t you just wait inside the art store for her?” Gary says as he’s refilling the vending machine, two months after Caitlyn’s first encounter with Six.
Caitlyn turns away from the map pinned to the wall, red strings highlighting all possible exits and escape routes that their target could take, and stares at Gary with wide eyes. “Gary,” she says, amazed.
“Probably a bad idea, I know, I know,” Gary says, stuffing a trail mix into its slot. “I should just let you do the strategizing.”
“No. Gary!” Caitlyn says again, excitement blooming in her chest. “You’re a genius! I can’t believe I haven’t thought of that before!”
Gary blinks at her in surprise. “Really?” he says.
Caitlyn strides over to him and places a hand on his bald head, grinning madly. “Genius,” she whispers before rushing out of the room, too full of anticipation to wait.
Gary smiles after her, nodding at himself. “Genius,” he says proudly, then turns back to the vending machine, whistling happily.
The Neon Spot owner doesn’t seem to mind Caitlyn staking out in the store, but then again, they haven’t seemed all that concerned with the frequent shoplifting that’s been taking place in their store, either. Caitlyn decides to post up near the back, hidden behind a display of paintbrushes but still with a clear line of sight to the door, and waits.
And waits.
And waits some more.
After a good few hours of diligent door watching, just as Caitlyn is beginning to wonder if Six will come at all today, she finally sees a familiar head of pink hair slink through the door. A smirk forms on Caitlyn’s lips.
“Gotcha,” she whispers.
Six wanders the store for a minute, obviously pretending to peruse the different displays before making her way over to the spray paint on the far wall. She looks down at her phone – texting someone, by the looks of it – and Caitlyn takes that as her chance to silently creep up behind the thief.
“Hands behind your head,” Caitlyn orders, handcuffs at the ready. “No sudden movements.” Six freezes, thumbs hovering over her phone keyboard before locking her screen and slowly slipping the device in her pocket.
“Kind of a weird way to ask a girl out, cupcake,” Six says, but does as Caitlyn’s said, slowly lifting her hands until her fingertips are resting lightly on the back of her head. Despite her show of nonchalance, her eyes dart around the store, searching for a way out of this.
As soon as Caitlyn has the handcuffs securely locked around Six’s wrists, Caitlyn shoves her out of the store, ignoring the “kinky” that the woman mutters under her breath. And just as Caitlyn had expected, as soon as they’re out in the open, Six tries to bolt, jerking away from Caitlyn’s grip and only making it two steps away before falling flat on her face, body jerking from the jolts running through her arms and legs.
Caitlyn stands above her, still sparking taser in hand. She blows on the end of it, satisfied, and clicks it off before moving to finally bring this criminal to justice.
* * *
A single lamp flashes on, shining bright in the complete darkness of the room around them.
Six squints, blinking as she tries to adjust to the sudden light. Her hands come up to shield her eyes, and the handcuffs around her wrists clink with the movement. “Is that really necessary?”
“I’ll ask the questions here,” Caitlyn replies curtly. “Firstly, what is your name?”
Six smirks, hands falling to rest in her lap. “Whatever you want it to be, baby.”
Caitlyn grips the back of her head and slams it into the table.
“What the fuck!” Six sputters, groaning as she picks her head back up to glare at Caitlyn. “What is wrong with you, seriously?”
Caitlyn lifts her chin, icy gaze not breaking. “Let’s try this one more time,” she says slowly. “What is your name?”
The woman’s nostrils flare. “Vi,” she finally grits out.
Ah, so the culprit finally has a name. “And why do you think I’ve brought you in here today, Vi?”
Vi scoffs. “I think you can answer that fine on your own, cupcake.”
“I’d rather hear it from you,” Caitlyn says, beginning to pace the length of the table. “Along with your reasoning behind your actions. Because the way I’d tell it, you’re a kleptomaniac who not only enjoys your own criminal behavior, but also revels in making a deliberate mockery of the law.”
Vi rolls her eyes. “I think calling me a klepto is going a little too far,” she says, pausing for a moment, thinking. “Which is really saying something. You know, considering…” She shrugs, eyes taking in the room around them.
Caitlyn stops her pacing to lean over the table. “So why do it? Why steal all those items from The Neon Spot?”
Vi sarcastically bats her eyelashes a bit, a flirtatious smirk crossing her lips. “Would you believe me if I said I did it to get your attention?”
Caitlyn’s eyes narrow and she reaches for her taser again. Vi flinches back.
“Fuck, okay, okay. My little sister is an artist, alright? And money’s tight at home, so I like to bring her stuff every now and then that she can’t get herself.”
That makes Caitlyn stop short. “The art supplies… weren’t for you?”
Vi shakes her head. “Jesus, no. That’s definitely my sister’s thing; I’m more of a brawn than brain type, you know?” She lifts a shoulder and eyebrow. “Clearly.”
It takes Caitlyn a moment to process this new information. So Vi was stealing, but not entirely for malicious purposes, not just because she was being selfish. In a way, she was almost being a… good person?
Caitlyn shakes herself of the thought. No, her intentions don’t take away the crime. Vi has still stolen several items over the past two months- possibly longer. She sniffs and stands to her full height, staring Vi down. “Still, you must answer for your crimes,” she says. “If we just let anyone around here do whatever they very well pleased, there would be no order, no peace, no-”
The door opens suddenly, followed by a heavy sigh. “Again, Caitlyn? Really?”
The overhead lights flip on, revealing the rest of the break room. The wind rushes out of Caitlyn in a huff. “I was almost done,” she grumbles.
Marcus, the head of security at Progress Mall, shakes his head. “No, this is- I thought I told you to cut it out with this interrogation stuff.” He glances over at Vi and lets out a noise of exasperation. “Is she handcuffed? Who gave those back to you?”
“Gary,” Caitlyn mumbles. Marcus rolls his eyes.
“Gary,” he says, moving over to unlock the cuffs from around Vi’s wrists. “Of course. Now I’m going to have to have a talk with him, too.” The handcuffs fall open with a clank against the table, and Vi smiles, looking very pleased by this turn of events.
“Do you know how long it took for me to catch her?” Caitlyn protests, but Marcus ignores her.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he tells her tiredly. “You’re free to go. I’m sure this was all just a big misunderstanding.”
Vi nods politely. “It was a big misunderstanding,” she says innocently, face set in a proper look of compassion. “But that’s alright, these things happen, right?” She heads for the door, looking back one last time to give Caitlyn a two-finger salute. “Later, cupcake,” she trills, then slips out of the room, leaving Caitlyn alone with her boss.
Her boss who looks very displeased at the moment.
After a tense moment of silence, Caitlyn figures she may as well try and defend her actions. “If you would just let me explain-”
“Your walkie and your badge,” Marcus interrupts, holding out a hand. “And your segway keys.”
Ice settles in Caitlyn’s veins. “Sir, I was only trying to-”
“Your walkie and your badge and your keys,” Marcus repeats, more sternly than before. “You’re done here, Caitlyn. I warned you what would happen if you pulled something like this again.”
Caitlyn hangs her head as Marcus continues to hold out a hand, expectant. Slowly, she unclips the walkie talkie from her shoulder and pulls the keys from her pocket, unpinning the badge from her chest last. She stares at the shiny gold surface one more time, her own dejected reflection staring back at her, before placing all the items in Marcus’s outstretched hand.
“I was only trying to do my job,” Caitlyn whispers.
Marcus sighs once more. “This is the mall, Caitlyn,” he says. “If you want to go chase criminals and perform interrogations, go join the actual police force. But I can’t have you accosting random patrons here just for throwing their trash on the ground anymore.” He tilts his head toward the door. “It’s time for you to go.”
Caitlyn wants to make some last great stand, wants to say something about how she’s too good for this institution, or about how he’s going to regret this later, but no words come to fill the hollow feeling inside her chest. So, without fanfare, Caitlyn walks over to the door, takes one last look at the break room, and leaves.
* * *
Caitlyn wonders if there’s some sort of statistic that shows how long you can sit outside your former place of employment before it verges on pathetic.
Her guess is about 10 minutes.
Caitlyn’s been here for 30.
She’s still in her uniform, and the ice cream she bought to cheer herself up is sitting forgotten in its cup on the curb next to her, nothing more than lukewarm sugar soup now.
“Well, look who it is.”
Caitlyn doesn’t look up at the familiar voice, only tightening her arms around her legs where they’re curled up against her chest. “Not now, Vi,” she mumbles.
Deciding to ignore her completely, Vi drops down to sit on the curb next to her. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but Caitlyn can feel her eyes boring into her. “Where’s your badge?” Vi eventually says. “Never seen you without it on, and I’m pretty sure I saw you at the grocery store once where you still had it on.”
Caitlyn’s shoulders tense. “Badges are for official mall security,” she sighs. “And as of 32 minutes ago, that no longer includes me.”
It takes Vi another moment to understand what Caitlyn is saying. “Wait, they fired you?” she asks, incredulous. Caitlyn finally turns her head enough to look at her, and finds Vi’s face matches her tone, eyes wide and mouth gaping open.
“Apparently I’m too intense.” Caitlyn says the words bitterly. “And I take this job too seriously.”
Vi shakes her head in disbelief. “That’s- I mean…” She shakes her head again. “That’s bullshit.” Then she shoots to her feet and starts walking toward the mall doors. Caitlyn shifts around to watch her go, confused.
“Vi?” she calls out, but Vi doesn’t answer. “Vi!” she tries again, to no avail. When the automatic doors slide shut behind Vi, Caitlyn scrambles off the curb to hurry after her, doubling back to throw her melted ice cream in the garbage.
Vi marches them all the way to the back rooms of the mall, somehow finding Marcus’s office with ease. Anxiety leaps in Caitlyn’s chest and she grabs onto Vi’s shoulder to stop her from entering, but it’s too late. Vi is barging through the door to the office, Caitlyn hot on her heel, and Marcus looks up at the two of them in bewilderment.
“Can I help you?” he says, slowly rising to his feet from behind his desk.
“Give Caitlyn her job back,” Vi says.
Marcus scrunches his face together in confusion. “I’m sorry?”
Vi steps forward and leans over the desk to shove at his shoulder. “Give Caitlyn her job back.”
“That’s not- hey! What is your problem?”
“I’ve been shoplifting from this place for years,” Vi says. “And in all that time, Caitlyn is the only one to have ever noticed, or at least had the balls to do something about it. Sure, she may be a little intense, and a kind of cringy, and super fucking weird-”
“Get to the point, please,” Caitlyn mutters.
“But she’s also dedicated,” Vi finishes. “And for some reason, she really fucking loves this job. She’s the best one you’ve got, and apparently you’re either too blind or stupid to see it.”
A flutter of appreciation goes through Caitlyn’s body, and she looks at Vi gratefully. Vi looks back at her and shoots her a quick wink.
Marcus stares impassively between the two of them for a moment, trying to sus out the situation. “I feel like we should probably address you admitting to several accounts of theft-”
“Mmm, I don’t remember that,” Vi says. “Pretty sure that never happened.”
“-but as far as Caitlyn is concerned, I suppose you’re right,” Marcus acquiesces. He turns to Caitlyn. “Kiramman, you’re one hell of a security guard, especially if you’ve been dealing with the likes of her.” He juts his chin in the direction of Vi, who smiles winningly back at him. “I suppose, if you promise to dial back the intensity a little, I’d be happy to take you back.”
Caitlyn smiles widely. “Thank you, sir! You won’t regret this, I promise.”
Marcus waves hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Now get out of my office, both of you. Before you start chasing each other around my desk or something.”
Caitlyn salutes, which makes Marcus roll his eyes. Vi also salutes, albeit more sarcastically, which causes Marcus to glare at her.
They find themselves back in the break room. Vi immediately zeroes in on the map covered in red lines with an appreciative whistle, examining it with a grin. Caitlyn watches her for a minute, a smile on her face that she can’t keep at bay, a question niggling at the back of her brain.
“Why’d you do it?”
Vi turns to face her with a questioning eyebrow.
“Help me, I mean,” Caitlyn clarifies. “Why help me when all I’ve ever wanted to do is get you in trouble?”
Vi shrugs and takes a few lazy steps closer to Caitlyn, hands sliding into the pocket of her hoodie. “Would you believe me if I said it was because I like having your attention on me?”
Caitlyn’s heart flips in her chest, this time with none of the animosity that went along with it before. “You know, I can never tell when you’re being serious,” she replies, sounding more flustered than she would’ve liked.
“Oh, I’ve been serious all along,” Vi says, stepping even closer to Caitlyn. She’s close enough now that Caitlyn can see that her eyes are a grey-blue color, the shade shifting every time she moves.
Feeling her cheeks flush, not knowing what to say in response to that, Caitlyn says, “How can I ever repay you for what you’ve done?”
Vi leans in until the tip of her nose is nearly brushing Caitlyn’s. A flirtatious smile slides onto her face, her eyes slipping down to look at Caitlyn’s lips. “Well, I can think of one way,” she says.
* * *
Tires screech against linoleum as Caitlyn tears down the main floor of the mall.
She can hear Vi closing in on her right, her own segway’s flashing lights keying Caitlyn in on how much her lead is shrinking. They both keep flooring it, dodging benches and kiosks and garbage cans. It’s much easier to do this when the mall is closed, Caitlyn thinks, thanks to the lack of pedestrians in their way.
When their designated end point comes into view, Caitlyn risks a glance over at Vi, feeling fairly confident that she had win in the bag. Vi’s face is screwed up in an intense look of concentration, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in on the path in front of her. Caitlyn smirks and turns back to ensure her victory, only to be met with a wet floor sign appearing seemingly out of nowhere.
“Shit!” Caitlyn veers sharply to her left, narrowly avoiding the sign, but in doing so loses her momentum, allowing Vi to sail right past her and across the finish line.
“Yes!” Vi shouts, fist pumping and siren blaring as she spins in tight, celebratory circles. Caitlyn blows some hair away from her face with a frustrated puff of air, glaring at Vi as she continues reveling in her victory.
Caitlyn steps off her segway to glare at it, too, just because, and Vi glides over to her, smile wide on her face. “Maybe I should join the force, cupcake,” she says. “Bet I could catch a few dirty rotten criminals with these moves.” She swivels back and forth on the segway, obviously pleased with herself.
“Being a security officer is more than just riding around on a segway,” Caitlyn huffs.
“Oh, you’re so jealous of my skills,” Vi says, moving to turn in circle around Caitlyn. “But you think I’m so sexy up here, don’t you? You like a woman on segway.”
Caitlyn crosses her arms, but the blush on her cheeks makes Vi smile even wider.
“You wanna kiss me,” Vi croons, coming to a stop directly in front of Caitlyn. With her up on the segway, they’re almost exactly the same height. “You wanna have my segway babies.”
To shut her up, Caitlyn grabs the front of Vi’s shirt and kisses her.
What? It’s not like Vi’s wrong.
Vi is the one blushing when they pull apart. Her eyes are still closed when she murmurs, “So, like, do you think it’s possible to have sex on one of these things, or…”
“Shut up,” Caitlyn groans, stepping closer to kiss her again. Except, her foot slips on the slick floor – apparently that sign had been put up recently – and she loses her balance, hand clutching tighter in Vi’s shirt in an attempt to save herself to no avail. She falls, taking Vi down with her, both of them crashing to the floor with grunts.
Caitlyn hears laughter coming from above them, and Caitlyn lifts her head just enough to spot Gary leaning against the railing on the second floor, looking down at them gleefully.
“Snitches get stitches,” he calls down to her, nodding firmly once before walking away. Caitlyn lets her head fall back to the ground just as Vi is pushing herself to sit up.
“You have a really weird job, you know,” Vi says, glancing down at Caitlyn.
And really, Caitlyn can’t disagree. But she also wouldn’t have it any other way.