Work Text:
This was not a good plan. This was a categorically awful plan. This might have been Caitlyn's worst plan in the history of plans (and she'd spent most of her life planning everything out in detail).
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Her mother was hosting another 'gathering' to build connections for her re-election campaign, and she kept making veiled comments about Caitlyn always showing up alone. Caitlyn hated these formal events with a passion, and needed someone to help her survive them. Vi was Caitlyn's co-worker and best friend, and thus the obvious choice for a plus-one. And she'd agreed easily, provided she didn't have to wear a dress.
It had all seemed like a great idea. That is, until right this moment, when Vi had turned up at the door wearing a suit that demolished all of Caitlyn's logical thoughts. Because of that one tiny detail she might have forgotten to consider, i.e. her very inconvenient and very non-platonic feelings for her aforementioned best friend. Which Vi did not know about. And almost certainly did not return.
It wasn't like she hadn't thought about this, but she was usually passable at hiding how she felt. She just hadn't expected this. She'd never seen Vi in a suit before, and. Well.
“You okay there, Cupcake?”
Right. She was just standing here, holding the door open, staring, like someone with absolutely no manners to speak of. She coughed, blushed, wondered what the hell was wrong with her, and finally stepped aside to let Vi in. “Sorry, yes, I'm fine. You look... good.”
Good was an understatement. Vi's outfit fit her perfectly, the sleeves of the tuxedo jacket tight enough to hint at her muscular figure, the top buttons of the shirt left undone, showing off the tattoos winding up the side of her neck. She'd forgone a fastened tie, leaving it trailing either side of her collar, and the overall effect was a mixture of casualness and formality that made Caitlyn's mouth feel dry. Oh, this was a terrible plan.
Vi grinned at her with some mix of confidence and awkwardness. “Thanks.” She trailed her eyes up Caitlyn's outfit, a dark blue dress she'd picked out weeks ago, and the appreciative look on her face made a flush rise to Caitlyn's cheeks again. “You too.”
Caitlyn nodded her own thanks, not really trusting her voice right now, and glanced awkwardly around at the room to avoid any more inconvenient thoughts about undoing a few more of those tuxedo jacket buttons, or any other related daydreams that did not belong in her mind, not here, not now, and certainly not about Vi.
“So, what are we doing?” Vi asked, and Caitlyn started, carefully avoided looking at her to keep her train of thought from wandering again, and cast about for something to say.
“If we're going to survive this, I think we should get a drink.”
Three hours later, the hall was filled with people, all of them talking in small clusters, taking elegant sips from their wine glasses and engaging in endless political posturing, small talk disguising hidden agendas Caitlyn was too exhausted to try and decipher. Her mother had pulled her into one too many such conversations already, casting Vi judgemental looks as the pair of them hovered at the edge of each gathering.
The glow of the lights, the hum of conversations, the endless social pressure, and the few glasses she'd downed in an attempt to lift some of the weight off her shoulders... all of it was getting close to being too much. Caitlyn could do this, she had done this, time and time again, but it would drain her energy for the rest of the week if she had to stay here much longer.
Particularly with the added difficulty of attempting to focus on the event and not on how ridiculously hot her friend was, or how Vi's shoulder had been pressed up against hers most of the night, or how close they got when Cait stumbled on her heels and almost fell, only for Vi to catch her without any effort, despite the fact that Caitlyn was a good six feet tall.
Point is, it was all too much, and she was wondering how to escape when Vi caught her eye, grinned, and leaned in close to ask, “You want to get some fresh air?”
Caitlyn sighed, nodding. “Please.”
They headed quietly for the side door, slipping out and closing it firmly behind them. The grounds beyond were far quieter, lit sporadically and softly, only a few people meandering down pathways, talking in low voices.
Caitlyn leaned her back against the wall and exhaled, finally able to breathe. “Thank you. It's so... much in there. I don't know how I'd survive it if you weren't here with me.”
“The things I do for you,” Vi said lightly, nudging her with an elbow. “This is the opposite of my idea of fun.”
“I'm sorry. You didn't have to agree. I wasn't expecting anything. I don't want you to feel like you need to stay, or...”
“Cait,” Vi said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder gently. “I don't do things for you because I think I have to. I do them because...”
“Because?” Caitlyn prompted, suddenly breathless, watching her. The moonlight picked out the grey in Vi's eyes and sparkled off the silver of her nose ring, and she was looking at Caitlyn with a softness in her expression that made Caitlyn swallow, wondering if it was possible that maybe her feelings weren't quite as unrequited as she thought they were.
A cold breeze rippled across the garden before Vi could answer, and Caitlyn shivered, wishing she'd worn something more substantial.
“You're cold,” Vi said, already shrugging off her jacket and reaching up to drape it carefully around Caitlyn's shoulders. It was a little too wide and a little too short, but Caitlyn slipped her arms into it gratefully, wondering how to read the action.
“Don't you need this?” she asked, glancing at Vi, now just in her shirtsleeves, and oh, that was another mistake. The thin white fabric fit closely around her biceps, translucent enough in the moonlight that Caitlyn could see the faintest outline of her tattoos, intricate dark ink that she wished she could trace with her fingers, learning all the patterns off by heart.
“I'm good, Cupcake,” Vi said, glancing away. The reinstating of the nickname felt purposeful, laying a modicum of distance between them, breaking whatever soft closeness had built up in the dark, and Caitlyn couldn't help the flicker of disappointment. There was nothing unfriendly in Vi's voice, but it was light, joking, not earnest in the way it had been a moment ago.
Vi reached to unbutton the cuffs of her sleeves, like she needed to distract herself, and Caitlyn found herself staring again, because she'd never really figured out how to look away from her. Like this, jacket missing, cuffs and collar undone, her tie hanging loose around her neck, the formality of Vi's outfit felt undercut by something, as if she'd been distracted, caught up in a moment. In a kiss, perhaps, Caitlyn's imagination unhelpfully supplied, and she shook her head and drew the cold evening air into her lungs, trying to recentre herself before she imagined anything more.
“Thank you, then,” she said softly, drawing the warmth of the jacket closer, and Vi shot her another smile, rolling her sleeves up to her elbows like she was sick of the constraints of them, and god, Caitlyn wanted to kiss her so badly.
No. No, she wasn't going there. Not tonight.
Vi shrugged. “It's nothing. I couldn't let you freeze to death on my watch. Your mother would kill me, for one.”
“Doubtless she'd give some speech at my funeral about how it was all my own fault,” Caitlyn said, rolling her eyes, trying to go along with the joke to distract herself.
“Both of ours, probably,” Vi agreed, and Caitlyn laughed, wondering why she'd never thought about that, about how nice it would be to be with someone who made her laugh. “Why do you keep coming to these things?”
“It's my 'Kiramman family obligation',” Caitlyn said dryly, shaking her head. “One day I'll be brave enough not to show up.”
“And till then, you've got me to bring with you.”
The sudden slip back into earnestness left Caitlyn's head spinning a little, and before she could overthink it, she reached for Vi's hand. “There's no one else I'd rather spend this kind of awful night with.”
Vi squeezed her hand back, her palm a little rough, scars on her knuckles where Caitlyn ran her fingers across them. “Me neither.”
They didn't talk much more, just standing there in silence for a while, close together, their hands clasped between them. But Caitlyn felt the warmth of the jacket around her shoulders, the feeling of Vi's fingers tangled with hers, and found herself feeling hopeful.
Maybe this thing between them wasn't so one-sided, after all.