Chapter Text
Three months of rebuilding. Remaking the relationship between Piltover and Zaun. Reforming the council. Three months, and they’ve made so much progress forward, but Caitlyn can’t focus on any of it.
Her tunnel vision, regrettably, didn’t die with Ambessa.
It doesn’t exactly help that since forfeiting her seat at the council, Caitlyn suddenly has free time. While her duties as sheriff certainly take up many hours of her day, much of her work now takes place in an office, behind a desk, filing paperwork and managing schedules and drafting legislation that should – she hopes – avoid the creation of more Jinxes in the future.
Vi throws herself into the creation of memorial statues along with Ekko. She’s good at that – remembering. Since Jinx’s death, she seems to have repurposed her ability to drown in self-loathing, playing events from the past over and over, into an attention for detail and sentimentality. With Ekko’s artistic expertise, the bridge is soon transformed.
And at the end of a long work day, Vi greets her in the office, hands stuffed in pockets and shoulder leaning against the doorframe. “Hometime, sheriff,” she’ll say, and without fail Caitlyn will sigh, and scribble down any notes she doesn’t want to forget, and snap her leather-bound notebook shut, locking it in the third drawer of her ornate desk. Because who is she to deny Vi anything?
It's not enough – it never will be enough. Her atonement is an endless journey, stretching as far into the future as she can ever hope to make it. Vi has stopped trying to tell her that it’s not her fault – of course she knows that the rise of Ambessa and resulting oppression of Zaun was something almost inescapable, a progression cast in stone from a time long before the Kiramman name rose to prominence. It’s not Caitlyn’s fault, any more than it is Ambessa’s really. Each saw an opportunity and took it. And while the other woman was never able to be brought to justice, Caitlyn vows to live the rest of her life making up – as much as she can – for those choices. For the harm caused to Zaun, to the innocents caught in the crossfire, and most of all to Vi.
Which is why she’s been spending a large chunk of her free time tracking down a cargo ship that – if not for the fact that it left the dock a full hour before schedule – would otherwise be entirely unassuming.
“She saved me. Cait, she saved me.”
“I could have ran. I could have stopped her. And I just sat there. I sat there and let her do it – let her fall.”
“And the worst part? She looked… Peaceful. It was like I was looking at Powder again.”
It’s not terribly difficult to track the merchandise to Demacia. The usual trade – copper, textiles. There’s nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever – until, a week later, Caitlyn hears rumour of a complaint from one of the wealthier Demacian family traders. A refund requested, for a silk dress. Bright blue.
She follows the lead down to a small village in the mountainous region. Getting in contact with the residents is hard, but manageable, and once contact is made, the proverbial gossips of the town are all too keen to discuss the newcomer with the obnoxious hair.
But by the time she thinks she’s found her – finally – note comes back from the village that the girl has disappeared again. A stolen goat, a pair of torn purple trousers left behind.
Weeks go by without word. Caitlyn settles more into her life – her new normal. While the 9-5 shift pattern dulls her out of her mind, she finds a sort of tranquillity in the predictability of it. Vi, too, settles into their routine surprisingly well. The lack of fighting, Caitlyn thinks, does her good.
Of course, there is the matter of pent-up energy. Neither woman is used to the feeling of standing still. Of planning, as opposed to preparing, for the future ahead. The absurdity of booking a restaurant for a date, or jumping into the local store for shampoo. The little things that Caitlyn from a few years ago would have taken for granted. Vi still feels a bit like a live wire when she’s in the city, constantly looking over her shoulder and flinching when someone looks at her too long. It’s a sign of awe more often than not – news spread fast of the remaining heroes of the battle, and with her tuft of bright pink hair, it’s not like Vi can blend in with the rest of Piltovan society the way that Caitlyn can. (Or mostly can, when she’s able to part her hair in a way that masks the navy patch over her eye.)
Ekko suggests creating a sort of outreach programme for the local children – an after school activity for those with parents who can’t – or in some cases are simply unwilling – to look after them. It only takes a modicum of convincing for Vi to become involved, and of course Caitlyn dedicates time to pooling resources together for it. By the beginning of that first summer, Caitlyn can’t believe how much time has passed. How much they’ve managed to get done to improve the lives of Zaunites and Piltovans both, simply by working together.
Her leads become sparse, and Caitlyn loses the energy to keep hunting her. For a while, at least, she’ll let her run. Vi seems to be moving on – as much as she can, considering the circumstances – and besides, Caitlyn never knew for definite that she was alive. It was just a hunch. She spent a year hunting her down, part of her believes that she would know if she was truly gone. It’s an itch in the corner of her brain that won’t ever go away, no matter the distractions – good and bad – that life has to offer.
She has Vi backed against the door, trailing kisses down the side of her neck, nipping at the skin when Vi squirms.
“God, cupcake, didn’t you get enough at the bar?” Vi laughs breathily, smoothing a hand over Caitlyn’s hair and prompting her to look up. She smirks.
“The bar was just a little… Crowded, for my tastes.”
“Your tastes, huh?” Vi wraps her arms around Caitlyn’s waist, pulling her closer. Caitlyn, for her part, doesn’t resist, melting into the other woman’s touch. “And what are your preferred tastes?”
Caitlyn curls a finger into the collar of Vi’s shirt, tracing the smooth line of her collarbone. “Well, that depends on the activity. For something like this, I prefer a little more privacy.” She deftly pops the first button, delighting in the way that Vi tilts her head back, barely suppressing a grin. “Somewhere I can take my time without worrying about the other women undressing you with their eyes.”
“Cait, you-“ Vi starts, but Caitlyn cuts her off with a kiss. She manages to unfasten the rest of the buttons before she has to pull away to breathe. Vi chases her lips, and pouts when Caitlyn steps back, tugging her hair free of the loose knot at the back of her neck. She doesn’t miss the way that Vi swallows, her eyes following the tumble of Caitlyn’s hair over her shoulders.
“And preferably a bed, though that particular one…” She casts her eyes over Vi, drinking in the sight of her. The black tie loose around her neck. The stutter of her chest as she breathes in. The minute flex of her fingers at her sides, like her decision to hold back is a physical challenge for her. “Can certainly be forgone, in the right circumstances.”
“I’ll say,” Vi huffs out a laugh and pulls Caitlyn back in, fisting one hand in her hair and trailing the other up, feather light, over the silk fabric of her dress and towards the zip between her shoulder blades. Caitlyn shivers at the sound of it, Vi grinning shamelessly as she tugs the zip down slowly, one tooth at a time, ignoring Caitlyn’s manoeuvres to try and get her to hurry up. “You know, Cait,” she starts, dipping a finger into the gap between the dress and Caitlyn’s skin, “you’re pretty insatiable.”
Tired of the game, Caitlyn closes the distance between them, impatiently tugging at Vi’s hand to unzip the dress and yanking her arms out of the sleeves as soon as she can. She runs a hand down Vi’s tie, before yanking it sharply – Vi stumbles towards her, and Caitlyn captures her lips with her own.
Vi drags her hand across Caitlyn’s exposed stomach, pushing at the fabric pooled around her hips, and Caitlyn is just about ready to take a step back and rip the thing off of her herself, fanciness be damned, when a loud THWUNK interrupts.
Vi jumps back instinctively, whirling around to face the door. “What the hell was that?”
It takes a second for Caitlyn to place the noise. It’s not one she’s used to hearing in her home, after all, ever since Vi encouraged her to keep her work at her workplace instead of the bedroom. She laughs, despite herself, and runs a hand soothingly over Vi’s back.
“It’s just a message, see? It’s nothing.”
Vi huffs. “Booty call?”
“Vi-“
“Hey, hey,” Vi struggles to put on a serious face, shrugging, “I can’t exactly blame them, cupcake. Look at you.” She takes Caitlyn’s hand, guiding her towards the bed. The backs of Caitlyn’s knees hit the edge of the mattress, and she sinks down, sighing when Vi covers her with her own body.
“I could say the same about you, you know.” Caitlyn uses the momentum of Vi lowering herself over her body to flip them, straddling her girlfriend’s waist. There’s a glint of anticipation in Vi’s eyes, followed by a stupid grin that Caitlyn makes sure to kiss off of her face.
Needless to say, the message had been long forgotten. It’s not until Caitlyn wakes up, around 4am, sweaty and spent and totally parched, that she remembers.
Vi mumbles something in her sleep as Caitlyn tries to untangle herself. While she’s sure that Vi is most definitely unconscious, Caitlyn responds to her mumbled “where?” anyway, whispering, “water” as she places a kiss on the top of her head.
As she pads over to the bathroom, running a finger over the rim of the glass, she stops by the tube fixed against the wall by her old writing desk. The message sits there, undisturbed. Caitlyn fills the glass of water, but curiosity gets the better of her, and she places the glass down gently on the desk, opening the hatch of the messenger tube with a soft hiss.
When she unfurls the scroll tucked neatly inside, there are only two words scrawled across the centre of the page.
Stop looking.