Chapter Text
It started off fairly simple: nothing more than a challenge. It had been a longstanding VILE tradition; if anyone could steal the mops from the Cleaners, they would win the ultimate prize. Fame.
Tigress thought this was all a childish, stupid game, one that only blossoming criminals in blossoming criminal mating rituals ever did. She was above all of this - that’s what she told herself at least, to make up for her fear of doing it. Sure, she might’ve been a hardened criminal who didn’t blink twice about destroying anything she needed to, but she was also… in a precarious position, is all.
Possibly slightly afraid of pissing off the faculty. She wasn’t anyone’s favorite, which made her fair game for expulsion.
So she avoided all of those stupid dares, quite happy with where she was in the VILE hierarchy.
That was, at least, until Little Miss Pippi Punkstockings walked up to Tigress’s table, dropped the Cleaners’ mops, and grinned. “Your move, kitty cat,” she sneered, and skipped away.
…Perhaps Tigress had lied a little bit about where it actually started.
About three days prior, Tigress might’ve called Paper Star a Carmen-chasing coward who didn’t know first thing about being a real thief. There was a distinct possibility she’d glued all of Paper Star’s sticky notes together before challenging her to a fight.
It was easier to imagine this was all Paper Star’s doing, though.
Tigress unfortunately understood that Paper Star was ruthless, however. As much as she wanted to be Carmen’s nemesis, she often felt like she was Paper Star’s - never able to top her in destructive power nor in fights with Carmen.
They were similar, in ways, though Tigress would never admit it. Careless in ways, but incredibly determined to suceed in others. Though she could never be so effortlessly creepy, she was intimidating. A well placed snarl or cutting look worked wonders on the wash-ups and die-hards VILE employed.
This meant she was confident that Paper Star would blame the disappearance of the mops on her, getting her in trou-ble with the faculty. In order to prevent this, she had to do something just as difficult as getting the mops out, perhaps even more - returning them.
While Tigress snuck into the Cleaners’ closet so she could complete the task, she just knew that Paper Star was watching her. She felt those eyes, as sharp as her origami, her ghostly presence that haunted her even when Paper Star wasn’t near. Her stomach growled at her - she was skipping lunch for this, but she knew Paper Star was as well, just to watch her. How difficult could that little punk be?
She was so frustrated with the effort, she wanted to claw the door down - but that’s just what the freaky goth wanted, she was sure. Easy enough to blame that on her, and get her in trou-ble with the Faculty.
Instead, she stuck a claw into the lock, poking around until she heard the soft click of success. It rang triumphantly in her ears as she slipped inside and plopped the mops back into the bucket. Her body twisted to leave, but a flash of purple caught her eyes.
A sticky note was sitting at the bottom of one of the buckets. A small, petty thing, barely, certainly not worth the effort of placing it there.
Tigress was sure she hated Paper Star.
As Tigress peeled it off the bucket and dropped off the mops, her eyes fell upon the curly handwriting on the back. I dare you to top this.
Who would she be to resist?
Paper Star was very proud of herself for pulling off that mini-heist, thank you very much. More so due to the very small fact that she was showing off Tigress, whom she considered to be the only other contender of Carmen’s nemesis.
What she had not expected was to find a shredded jacket stuffed into her pillowcase. Not just any shredded jacket, she realized as she sifted the material between her fingers, but one of Maelstrom’s blazers.
Paper Star was Maelstrom’s favorite operative, and she wanted to remain as such. Going through the lengths of stealing it, just to shred it, and stuff it in here - it was almost insulting.
Almost, if Paper Star wasn’t smirking at the idea of Tigress stewing over how to get back at her and settling on this.
She yanked it out, making mental preparations to burn it. Her gaze dropped to the cardstock drifting slowly onto her bed, and the messy scrawl on top of it.
I beat your dare. Meet me at midnight.
“As if I would know where to meet her,” Paper Star huffed to herself, but it was obvious. There was only one other famed dare of VILE island - and it included the docks and fishbait.
Paper Star had always considered these dares to be baseless drivel, nothing more than childish boasting. That was, of course, before Tigress had insulted her. Now it was on.
As she prepared for the night, she watched Tigress out of the corner of her eye at all times. Tigress got her food. She sat alone. She went to the boxing gym. She did yoga, looking more and more catlike with every pose (seriously, did she not have a spine?).
Even under her careful watch, the night crept on. It lurked in shadows, waiting for Paper Star to leave her spot in the trees and join Tigress upon the docks. The night settled into the doubts creeping at the edges of her mind and told her to breathe deeply, that this was Tigress, that she had nothing to be afraid of.
Her eyes followed Tigress’s steps across the docks, then back again - over and over, silent swishes of an invisible tail. A smile slowly rose to Paper Star’s cheeks, her face pink in what she hoped she could blame on the tropical chill of the island.
Her own silent footsteps joined Tigress’s, her hum soaring through the air into Tigress’s ears, who turned to face her. They regarded each other, almost reveling in the patheticness of it all. But, like it or not, they were in this now.
“You’re here.” Tigress wouldn’t break the gaze.
“So are you,” Paper Star hummed. She had reapplied her best waterproof eyeliner for this, because - that’s right - the other most famous was skinny dipping in the ocean.
“Did you bring the supplies?” Tigress asked, her voice final. Realizing what she had done, perhaps.
“Enough for me.” Paper Star plopped the bag of fish food on the ground between them. Tigress nodded, satisfied.
Skinny dipping, surrounded by bait, among the many carnivorous fish that roamed the waters. The first operative to flee was the loser. The winner got what anyone would want - the ultimate bragging rights.
Their gazes did not falter, and an agreement was reached. Simultaneously, they pulled off the VILE stealth gear, stripping down to their undergarments - and then even those were gone. Paper Star refused to allow her gaze to drop, but neither did Tigress. Words weren’t necessary - they had both accepted at this point that their pathetic battle wasn’t going to end soon.
The water was cool, but not cold. Paper Star didn’t bother dipping a toe in - she jumped, grabbing her fish bait and swimming after Tigress to about twenty feet away from the dock. It was a bit murky, so there wasn’t likely to be an incident of eyes slipping - still, Paper Star kept her eyes trained on her enemy, her rival, her partner in this probable crime.
“I thought cats hated water,” said Paper Star cuttingly, breaking the silence that had settled between them. She tugged at the strings of the bag, spilling the bait into the sea.
“Actually, tigers are excellent swimmers, and can swim up to seven miles in a day,” Tigress sniped. Paper Star almost found herself smiling at the change in Tigress’s tone - obviously she was excited to share this bit of information with Paper Star, before remembering who exactly she was talking to.
“You’re as bad as Carmen,” Paper Star said to herself, but her voice carried over the water. Tigress stiffened, and simply dumped the rest of her bait into the sea. “Too far, kitty-cat?”
“Shut up, my chemical romance freak.” Tigress glared, but her gaze soon shifted to the water unevenly. Paper Star, too, felt the chill of anticipation shivering deliciously up her spine - or maybe that was the cold of the water.
They waited in the water. Then they waited longer. This was an embarrassing amount of time. Really, they should’ve gotten out sooner. Better yet, not even gone here at all, deciding to resolve their problems in ways other than petty tricks.
“I’m starting to doubt whether the carnivorous fish in these parts are even active at night,” Paper Star said, feeling increasingly stupid. Of course they weren’t. These things were usually done at dusk, with a hoard of screaming teenagers. She knew that. Why didn’t she think this through?
Her gaze slid to Tigress. She was why. Tigress was the one who invited her out here. Tigress seemed to come to this conclusion as well, because she sighed a long-suffering sigh that turned into a groan. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. This was a bad idea. But-”
“Quit while you’re ahead, kitty.” Paper Star slowly swam back to the docks, her face almost turning red. Almost. She had more self-control than that.
Despite her so-called self control, as she got to her feet onto the docks, she turned back around, sticking her hand out to Tigress. They made eye contact again - Tigress was quite determined to show that she was intimidating, always flexing her (admittedly impressive) forearms and baring her teeth at everyone. But now there were no false proclamations of grandeur; they were just two young adults, a little lost, but trying to find their way in the world.
Tigress took her hand, and pulled herself up. Paper Star almost stumbled forward, causing the two to get very close to each other, their thumbs interlocked. Tigress inhaled loudly, and Paper Star was suddenly very aware of their lack of clothing, of their closeness, of the warmth radiating off of Tigress’s skin. In fact, it almost seemed like she was… leaning closer.
“Thank you.” Tigress’s voice was sudden as it was begrudging, and it seemed to surprise even her. “Paper Star.”
Paper Star chuckled and turned around, waving goodbye as she went to retrieve her clothes. “We’ve seen each other naked, kitty.
“Call me Tammy.”