Chapter Text
“So, home?” Caitlyn asks as she climbs into the cab of the truck, moving slower than she had when she’d gotten out to go talk to her mom, and Vi doesn’t miss that she’d said “home” and not “your apartment.”
“Yeah.” Vi makes sure that Caitlyn’s buckled before she puts the truck in drive. “Just got a quick stop to make first.”
______
Caitlyn looks out the windshield…and through the open passenger window…and across Vi through her open window…and is perplexed.
Their stop is apparently not on the way to Vi’s apartment - it’s in the opposite direction, toward Piltover - and unless she’s very much mistaken, which she isn’t, they’re driving to Soleil.
“Are we—?”
Vi just grins and turns up the radio before signaling the left turn that confirms Caitlyn’s bewildering realization.
Rolling her eyes, Caitlyn relaxes into the seat and waits to arrive at their destination for whatever Vi’s planned for her “quick stop.”
It does, indeed, turn out that the stop is quick, because Chef Girard comes outside with two mysterious boxes and hands it through the window himself with well-wishes and a knowing wink, and then they’re on the road again.
After Vi’d squinted, playfully menacing, at the way Caitlyn had immediately started fiddling with the tape on the top box, Caitlyn had been left to try to figure out what’s in the boxes by their weight and smell.
They’re both fairly hefty - the one on the bottom moreso - and whatever’s in them smells divine.
Vi had clearly ordered both something sweet and something savory, but, beyond that, Caitlyn really can’t tell what’s in them.
She’ll admit to being a bit irked, as a detective, about not being able to figure out the contents of the boxes, but she doesn’t know enough about Vi - yet - to know precisely what she’d be most likely to order, and she also doesn’t have x-ray vision.
So, she’s in suspense until they get back to Vi’s apartment.
The drive, at least, is lovely, even with the food-related suspense and her lingering anxiety from her discussion with her mother.
It had at least been helpful to go see her mother; it wasn’t a wasted trip, despite the unpleasantness at the end.
She has a stenographer to interview, which should lead her in some sort of helpful direction.
All she needs to do now is track down the Council’s retired stenographer for an interview.
Interviews can be hit or miss in terms of what can be gleaned, and tracking down the old stenographer will require discretion - and likely time, which is the one thing she’s very short on, of late - but it’s at least another potential path toward answers.
Frankly, she’s nearly giddy at the thought of shining even a little light on the missing pages, especially since finding them, regardless of whether or not they’ve been removed from the Archives, is likely impossible.
Interrupting the contemplative silence, Vi comments, “So…the cigar was a surprise.”
Vi had made her remark off-hand and without any particular inflection, so Caitlyn isn’t sure exactly what the right response is, here.
She could tell at the party that Vi and her siblings all disapprove of Vander’s smoking, but whether or not it’s specifically a sore subject for Vi, Caitlyn has no idea.
So, she goes for a noncommittal response, “Oh?”
Vi’s nod is slow, and her motion to flip on her turn signal seems very deliberate. “Yeah. Didn’t expect you to be a smoker.”
Deciding that trying to parse out whether or not there’s some sort of implication hidden in Vi’s words is pointless, Caitlyn goes for the truth. “Mm, I don’t really smoke. I used to, because I’ll admit to being a bit of a rebel, and then, honestly, everyone in the military does, but now it’s a rare, social thing - or in the instance you saw, a party trick. Does that bother you?”
Shrugging, Vi replies. “I guess not. The uh…the thought that you might be a smoker bothered me, because that’s a pretty big deal-breaker for me, but if it’s occasional, no.”
Noticing that Vi does, indeed, seem to have particular parameters under which she tolerates smoking, she asks, “Do you mind if I ask why it bothers you?”
“It’s a lifestyle thing, mostly. And then also because I don’t like to watch the people I care about slowly kill themselves.”
Ignoring a particular set of five words in that sentence and how they might pertain to her, Caitlyn instead responds to what she knows Vi must mean. “Mm. Chief Vanderson won’t quit?”
Letting out a heavy sigh - Caitlyn must have found a sore spot - Vi answers, a muscle in her jaw ticking, “No.”
Caitlyn waits, the heavy, single-syllable word lingering in the cab of the truck, and it’s only when Vi’s grip on the steering wheel looks semi-relaxed that Caitlyn says, “I can refrain entirely, if you’d prefer.”
“From smoking?”
“Yes.”
There’s a long pause, and then, “You’d do that?”
“There’s not much to do, in all honesty. I really don’t smoke anymore, and if it bothers you, that’s more than enough reason not to.”
Even though her heart hammers harder at revealing that Vi’s feelings would affect how she conducts herself, Caitlyn doesn’t qualify it or try to explain.
She also doesn’t tell Vi that it’s nothing.
Because, the truth is, it’s not nothing.
The smoking, Caitlyn can easily do without. That piece isn’t a big deal.
The burgeoning realization that she can’t - or, doesn’t want to - do without Vi…that is a big deal, especially for someone like Caitlyn, who’s been staunchly averse to the idea of needing anyone else practically since infancy.
Finally, Vi says, “Thank you,” and while her words are both brief and simple, Caitlyn understands them for what they are.
“Of course.”
Caitlyn looks firmly out the front windshield to avoid confronting whatever might be in Vi’s expression at Caitlyn’s easy adjustment to her needs.
Because, even if it’s not nothing, it is easy.
It’s easier to factor Vi into her life than she’d expected, really.
That thought gives her pause.
She doesn’t…well, she doesn’t factor other people in.
It had been clear for a long time that factoring other people into her decision-making was a one-way ticket to misery - her countless hours assisting her father with his surgical practice and on aid relief trips, as well as her (brief) tenure in medical school before she got up the courage to do what she actually wanted to do were stark reminders of the necessity of living for herself and no one else.
If people fit into her life, that’s one thing, and Caitlyn has always made time for her friends and family when they needed her, but she’d learned the hard way to consider herself first. …and here she is, feeling entirely okay with making a change for Vi’s comfort.
It had been a long time since she’d been confronted with how quickly and unexpectedly things can change.
Her thoughts consume her enough that she doesn’t realize that they’ve already arrived at Vi’s apartment until her door is opening and Vi’s reaching for the boxes of food.
Like everything else so far, it feels oddly natural to hand over the boxes and then accept Vi’s hand down.
When she turns to retrieve her cane from inside the cab, Vi pinches her arse, and even though she gives an innocently whistling Vi a disapproving look over her shoulder, she can’t help but smile at the casual, playful intimacy.
______
Dinner turns out to be a delicious selection of tea sandwiches and pastries - as well as the cake Vi’d apparently been sent home with that neither of them got to eat - and they eat it on Vi’s couch, straight out of the containers.
It’s…well, it’s bliss.
They’d changed into comfortable clothes practically as soon as they’d gotten through the door, and Vi had, again, very kindly rubbed salve into her leg, and as they sit here, trading bites of the little sandwiches back and forth so that they can each try everything, Caitlyn finds herself not even thinking about work or her mother or all the missing pieces.
She’s just…content.
When they’ve both eaten their fill - which, frankly, is the entirety of both boxes - Caitlyn melts into the couch and enjoys the way Vi’s mindlessly stroking her hand up and down the outside of her thigh over the heating pad. The light movement is soothing, and the fact that Vi has, again, let her stretch her legs out over her lap is sweet and leaves her a little boggled.
Hating to break the companionable silence, Caitlyn admits, “I really do need to get to work.”
Vi’s grin is beautiful in the low light from the lamps scattered around her apartment and the flicker of the television. “You really don’t take any time off, do you?”
Chuckling, Caitlyn regretfully starts to get up. “In truth…no. I’ve had more time off in the past few weeks than I have since I started on the force.”
Vi looks so genuinely surprised by that that Caitlyn laughs again.
“And that would be why Grayson’s and my code word for ‘something’s badly amiss’ is ‘vacation.’”
Vi grins at that as well, and then it fades as it becomes clear she’s thinking about something. “I was wondering about that. She put you on speaker when you called and I knew it was code, but I didn’t hear the very beginning of the conversation.”
Caitlyn assesses Vi as she gets up to help her up off the couch without being asked. “I’m sure that was difficult to listen to.”
Vi squeezes her hips and leans up to kiss her jaw. “It was.”
Before Caitlyn can sort through the mix of feelings that particular interaction had caused, Vi pulls away.
“You good to work at the dining table?”
______
Vi keeps the TV on low volume as she scrolls through channels to try to find something she wants to watch.
She’s not coming up with anything, and she hasn’t for a while.
It’s probably a better idea to go grab a book, but she’s not really sure what she’s in the mood for, and she’s not sure she even could focus on reading a book right now with how much she’s trying not to be interested in what Caitlyn’s working on.
She can hear a pen scratching on paper behind her, and papers shuffling, and Caitlyn muttering to herself, and Vi really, really wants to know if she’s found something, but it seems rude to interrupt.
So, she’s sitting on the couch, distracted as sh*t.
Her phone buzzes on the cushion next to her, and Vi grabs it too fast, almost fumbling it.
It’s a text from Pow.
And…Vi peeks over the back of the couch to see Caitlyn staring at a single sheet of paper. She hasn’t heard her move much in the past few minutes, so she figures it might be safe to interrupt.
Caitlyn probably wants to hear this.
______
Caitlyn’s pulled from burning a hole in one of her countless papers by Vi’s voice, which is filled with some kind of secret amusem*nt,
“So…Pow just texted…”
There’s nothing on the paper she hasn’t read a hundred times by now, so she looks up at Vi, instead, whom she enjoys looking at much more than dull bank account reports.
“Apparently, she and Jayce are having a romcom marathon while my brothers pretend not to be invested.”
Vi to find what she’d said more funny than anything else, but Caitlyn can’t help her incredulous expression. “He’s still there?”
Caitlyn had left him the keys to his ridiculously fancy car, and she’d assumed that after some hair of the dog or some other Zaunite remedy, he’d give back his borrowed shirt and be on his way, but…
Vi shrugs. “Apparently, yeah.”
“Is that…alright? I can tell him to bugger off if he’s being a nuisance.”
The last thing Caitlyn wants is for anybody she knows - let alone anybody from Piltover - to overstay their welcome.
“Nah, it’s fine.”
“You’re sure?”
Caitlyn’s dubious, but…Vi really does seem sure, which she reiterates.
“‘Course, Cupcake. They’re having a good time - and I promise my dad doesn’t mind.”
Concerns assuaged - and mental note taken to give Jayce sh*t about staying so long - Caitlyn goes back to the papers in front of her.
______
“What are you looking for?” Vi asks, sensing the subject change as Caitlyn’s eyes focus on the table in front of her and the million papers she’s got laid out in what’s clearly a very specific order, even if Vi has no f*cking clue what that order is.
“I’m trying to figure out what happened to the stock of Shimmer after the chembarons were arrested.”
Vi’s impressed - and a little surprised. She hadn’t considered that.
But…yeah, there’d have been stock of the drug…
“Any leads?”
Caitlyn makes a “so so” gesture. “I’ve done enough looking by now to be confident that any records of Shimmer disposal aren’t where they should be.”
Vi knows that’s not a good thing, but, weirdly, Caitlyn doesn’t seem that concerned. “So, that means…what? We’re sh*t out of luck?”
Vi feels her heart skip as Caitlyn smiles co*ckily. “No, it means someone’s hiding something.”
Swallowing so she can be f*cking normal about this (“this” being the insanely hot woman in her apartment solving crime and being really f*cking good at it) and ask actual questions because she is curious, in addition to being turned on by Caitlyn being good at her job, Vi asks, “So the records are gone, or?”
Tilting her head back and forth, Caitlyn hums. “More or less - the Archives are closely watched by the librarians there—“
“The old guy you mentioned? The one who likes his coffee how Pow likes hers?”
Pointing at her as if to say “got it in one,” Caitlyn continues, “—and no materials are allowed to leave the Archives. You can sometimes make copies, but those have to be done by the librarians to ensure no tampering, and he’s the slowest man alive, so I tend not to ask for those unless I really need them. For instance, I asked for some of these bank records since they’re not technically sensitive information, and there’s so much to go through–” Caitlyn taps a stack in front of her, “--but I usually don’t. And, regardless, the librarians can’t be everywhere, and once you’re inside, you can look at whatever you wish, so I’m inclined to think that the ‘tamper-proof’ system isn’t as flawless as everyone would like to believe.”
“So what you’re saying is…what?”
“Any record of Shimmer disposal is likely still in the Archives, just misfiled.”
“A needle in a haystack,” Vi murmurs. The Archives house literally all of Piltover’s history from its founding up to present day. That’s a lot of files.
“Exactly.”
“Is there any other way to get the disposal records?”
“I’m trying other avenues. My mother was actually fairly helpful on that point, but I can’t do anything about the information she gave me until tomorrow, at least. And, as you know, Grayson has barred me from spending the sort of hours in the Archives I need to–”
“Yeah, what an asshole, wanting to keep you alive,” Vi teases sarcastically, and Caitlyn frowns at her.
A smile pulls at her downturned lips as she continues, “Anyway, since I can’t be in the Archives as much as I’d like to be, that leaves me with attempting to figure out some of the other, not-Archive-dependent pieces. For instance, is there any information about how Shimmer even could have been disposed of in the first place? If it couldn’t be - or wasn’t - destroyed, where might it have gone? And, not related specifically to that, who was Marisa Russell? Why was she receiving checks from someone in Piltover? Was it alimony? Child support? Payment for her services, of one kind of another?”
She gestures broadly at the papers spread in front of her and takes off her glasses, setting them down on the table and rubbing at a spot on her eyebrow. “And, the biggest piece - the one that troubles me the most - why target the buildings that have been attacked? What’s the goal? And…where will they - whoever ‘they’ may be - strike next?” Caitlyn sighs. “There are still too many unknowns. There actually might be more unknowns now than there were a few days ago, even with new information.”
There f*cking are a lot of unknowns, but as Vi thinks back over the list, she realizes that she’s actually very f*cking qualified to answer - or try to answer - one of Caitlyn’s questions. “You uh…you said you needed to know about chemical, or uh, hazardous waste disposal?”
The way Caitlyn freezes, thumb jammed into her eyebrow, to look at her is kind of funny. But, Vi kind of figures this is a bad time to laugh at her, even if it’s because she’s really f*cking cute, so she just answers Caitlyn’s unspoken question.
“There are a few companies that we work with for disposal of hazardous materials. We - well, I do it for the team, but yeah - we assess what we can, and we treat some fires differently than others, because you need to be using the right mitigation techniques, but then after everything’s put out, we bring in outside contractors to deal with anything dangerous. It’s mainly just my job to identify if what we’re working with is dangerous and then advise about how to move forward.”
Caitlyn hasn’t moved - her thumb’s still jammed into her eyebrow, and Vi’s not sure she’d blinked for that entire explanation.
“What?”
“…I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask you more about this before, Violet Vanderson, Hazmat Tech.”
“I’ll try not to be insulted,” Vi tells her, laughing.
Caitlyn doesn’t really join her, but Vi doesn’t mind, because she’s put her glasses back on and has her distracted, “solving sh*t” voice on. “You said there are ‘a few’ companies that do disposal?”
“Uh, yeah - we work with one company, and I think a few of the other stations work with somebody else.”
It isn’t until Vi notices that Caitlyn has her notebook out and a pen in her hand that she realizes that Caitlyn probably wants names and actual sh*t to go on.
“Right, so we work with Chemical and Toxic Waste Disposal, Inc., and then I know there’s Chemicals R Us, and Make Safe Waste, and I think The Poison Experts went out of business, but I’m not sure. We used to use them but stopped because their rates just got insane and they never had anybody at the front desk we could really talk to, so we switched.”
Caitlyn writes down everything she’s said, and then she turns and starts digging in her briefcase, pulling out her laptop, so Vi leaves her to it.
She’s glad she could be of some help with all this. Caitlyn had only brought home some bank records - the stack isn’t that big - and Vi knows there’s way more that she’s been having to comb through at the Archives.
Vi goes into the kitchen to make some tea for both of them because she needs to do something.
She’s getting an up-close-and-personal look at how f*cking slow this process is, and the memory of pulling Caitlyn and Ekko out of the apartment building fire makes her want to do something - f*cking anything - to push this along.
And she f*cking can't make this go any faster, but she can make some goddamn tea, so that’s what she’s going to do.
Her tea selection is way less varied than Caitlyn’s - she’s got like two kinds, and she doesn’t have a kettle - but she figures it’s better than nothing.
______
“I’m sorry we’re not doing something more…celebratory for your last night of leave,” Caitlyn remarks, looking at Vi, who’s got one hand on the ankle Caitlyn has stretched over her lap, and the television remote in the other, idly scrolling through channels.
Caitlyn had moved from the table to the couch once searching on her computer had started to make her eyes cross, and now she’s just…looking at the same things she’d been looking at for the past few days, trying to see something different.
The fact that this is Vi’s last night off had occurred to her in a burst, and, now that it’s on her mind, she can’t help but think it’s a shame that they’re just…sitting here.
She should be taking Vi out for dinner, or…bowling, or something.
Caitlyn barely avoids wincing as she thinks about how desperately single she’s been. She can’t even think of good date ideas.
Vi’s grin is relaxed. “Nah, I’m good, Cupcake. Happy to chill at home before all the chaos.”
Caitlyn has no response to that aside from a hum, since she can’t help but feel that Vi’s usage of “home” might apply to her, in addition to Vi’s place of residence.
She also has no response because she’s actually looked up from the papers she’s been combing through for the first time in a long while, and the sight of Vi sprawled comfortably on the couch in loose clothing, letting Caitlyn use her as a footrest, is…mouth-watering.
Clearing her throat as subtly as she can, Caitlyn goes back to the papers in front of her, doing her best to ignore the hand on her ankle that now feels hot, rather than comfortingly warm.
After what a glance at the clock tells her is an agonizing twenty two minutes later, Caitlyn can’t take it anymore.
In the time Caitlyn had been trying to use to read these papers, Vi had done more sitting on the couch, she’d decided on a cooking show to watch, and she’d gotten up to get herself a bowl of cereal.
And, now, she has the absolute audacity to just sit there, bicep flexing obscenely and the strong lines of her forearm standing out as she lifts a spoonful of colorful, sugary cereal toward her mouth.
Vi flips to another channel, oblivious to the fact that Caitlyn is currently finding the tendons flexing in her neck as she chews with her mouth open much more interesting than work.
Swallowing her bite of food, Vi frowns at her hand, setting her spoon in her bowl before popping her thumb in her mouth and sucking it clean.
“Oh, for the love of–”
“Cupcake?” Vi questions, clearly startled.
Her lower stomach squeezing hard, Caitlyn tosses her pen and papers onto the coffee table, her glasses following more gently after them, before she scrambles clumsily across the couch and swings a leg over Vi’s lap, leaning around the accursed bowl of cereal to kiss her.
“Whoa, hang on, my cereal’s gonna get soggy–”
Exasperated, Caitlyn leans back to look her (stupidly, painfully attractive) firefighter in the eye, trying to communicate how desperately she does not care about dubiously nutritious breakfast foods right now. “Vi, if you put down the bowl right now and f*ck me instead, I promise you that I will reimburse you.”
Vi looks more hesitant than Caitlyn had expected, despite the fact that she hadn’t really gotten as far as expectations.
“I mean, but it’s such a waste of food–”
Astounded, Caitlyn blinks down at her. “…you really want to eat cereal more than you want to f*ck me, don’t you?”
A laugh at the absurdity of the situation bubbles out of her at Vi’s conflicted look.
“…the answer to that is ‘yes,’ isn’t it?”
The noise Vi’s makes is nearly pained. “I mean…it gets really soggy…”
Shaking her head fondly, if not a bit exasperatedly, Caitlyn sits back, still hopelessly turned on and now also hopelessly enamored.
As Vi very slowly - conflictedly - goes back to eating her cereal, Caitlyn has a spark of inspiration that involves a great determination to fight off self-consciousness.
She narrows her eyes, giving Vi a challenging look that she hopes covers the anxious anticipation fluttering through her. “I’ll just get started, then.”
Caitlyn stays exactly where she is, watching Vi’s eyebrows raise as her heart hammers in her chest.
She leaves one hand braced on the couch behind Vi’s head…and moves the other to hike her borrowed shirt over her breasts before sliding her fingertips down her stomach to slip without preamble underneath the waistband of her oldest pair of sweatpants.
______
Vi’s jaw goes slack as her brain tries to catch up to what in the f*ck’s happening right now.
She’d just been eating cereal…and now she’s in a position she couldn’t even have dreamed up.
And the real f*cking kicker is…it’s not a dream.
This is actually happening.
The most gorgeous woman she’s ever seen actually is on her lap, touching herself with her tit* out while Vi’s grip starts to go slack on her cereal bowl.
Caitlyn notices - because of course she does - and her voice is higher, breathy, as she comments, almost casual, “You’d better get to eating that. It would be a shame for your cereal to go soggy.”
Vi feels herself clench, and her heart starts to f*cking race as she finally figures out what’s happening.
“Oh, you are evil.”
Caitlyn’s quiet chuckle is breathy and trails off into a moan as Vi watches her forearm angle and dip lower, and then–
Vi’s spoon rattles against the bowl as she nearly drops it, because she can f*cking hearCaitlyn f*cking herself with her fingers.
Mouth watering, Vi leans forward to taste Caitlyn’s perfect tit*–
–only to be stopped by a strong hand on her shoulder.
Caitlyn doesn’t say anything, but her blue eyes flick to the bowl of cereal, and Vi almost f*cking combusts on the spot.
This might actually be the hottest, most torturous thing that’s ever happened to her.
Hand shaking with anticipation, Vi holds her spoon firmly enough to eat with it and does her best to shovel cereal into her mouth as fast as she can as Caitlyn’s hips start to rock into her hand, the movement making the muscles in her abs flex and contract.
She’s done in record time - including gulping down the rainbow-infused milk - and Vi lunges forward as soon as she finishes swallowing, wrapping her lips around Caitlyn’s nipple and practically throwing her bowl onto the coffee table as she hoists the detective up into her arms to carry her to the bedroom and show her what she thought about her (f*cking hot) little stunt.
Caitlyn’s fingers are wet as they grip the back of her neck, and Vi almost f*cking drops her as the sensation registers.
This woman is going to be the death of her.
______
Vi had opted to go to bed after ravishing her - and letting Caitlyn do a fair amount of ravishing herself - and after a quick nap, Caitlyn had come back out to the dining room to do some more staring at paperwork.
Finally, after making a negligible number of notes, she decides that she’ll resume work tomorrow at the Archives, looking through business records for companies like the ones Vi had told her about, and also combing through any results that had come up from the searches she’d left to run on the department computers. She’s interested to see whether or not cameras had picked up any of Miles Russell’s presence, or if, more likely, he was a ghost even before his death.
Grayson hasn’t gotten back to her about anything on her end, which means she hasn’t found anything yet…and all of that leaves Caitlyn with absolutely nothing to do but sigh heavily and cap her highlighter before getting up very slowly to go take more pain medication and get ready for bed.
As she brushes her teeth and takes care of the other necessities, she enjoys the quiet of Vi’s apartment.
When she’s finished with everything she needs to, she makes her way as silently as she can into Vi’s bedroom, surprised when a lamp is on and her firefighter is awake.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Caitlyn asks, keeping her voice low.
The shake of Vi’s pink-haired head is sleepy, and she reaches out an arm as she answers, “Nah. I’m a light sleeper. Heard the sink.”
As she crawls into bed - into Vi’s waiting arms - Caitlyn apologies again. “Really, I’m sorry. I hope you can get back to sleep easily.”
“I’m good, Cupcake. Really.”
Caitlyn can tell she means it, even if she still feels bad about her nightly routine being disruptive.
Nevertheless, she curls into Vi’s side without further comment. Sighing into the warmth surrounding her, Caitlyn snuggles a little closer.
Vi kisses her on the forehead once she’s settled, and Caitlyn hums, the tension of the day leaving her as her pain medication starts to work and Vi’s presence has its usual effects.
Vi lets go of her only long enough to reach up and turn off the light, and then Vi laces their fingers together over her stomach, her thumb tracing hypnotically back and forth over the back of Caitlyn’s hand.
Caitlyn fights sleep for a moment out of…well, maybe out of pride, or some sense that this level of comfort and relaxation is unnatural or undeserved or some damning example of “too good to be true,” but very quickly, she loses the battle, slipping into sleep easily to the sound of Vi’s even breathing.
