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The fight is over before it even starts. Her opponent has no chance. With relative ease, the Commander knocks down the person who has been following Doctor Reveck. Ambessa’s moves echo in Caitlyn’s own as she keeps the intruder’s hand away from their body. She presses their chest to the ground with her other hand, using her body weight to restrain someone noticeably more muscular than her.
Knowing she has won, she finally takes a good look at her opponent’s face, ready to start the interrogation.
What she finds instead takes her breath away. She doesn’t expect to be facing two very familiar grey eyes. Panting as recognition dawns on her, she takes in the new eyeshadow framing those eyes, the unfamiliar hairstyle shaping the feminine face, and the same beaten-down, puppy-like expression she had left crying in a pit.
“On the job, I see,” Vi says, contempt spilling from each syllable. The voice sends shivers down Caitlyn’s spine. She looks around.
Vi is alone.
“You can’t be here,” Caitlyn spits out, already exasperated.
“Oh, here where I landed when this rich, unhinged mongoose tackled me?” Vi asks sarcastically, pushing Caitlyn away and sitting up, turning her back to the taller woman.
“ Mongoose ?”
Although initially confused by the choice of words, Caitlyn determines the comparison is meant as an insult. She looks at the muscular back now facing her, at the wolf’s jacket, trying to find something to say back. Black dye now covers the pink hair she once tucked behind the pierced ear. She decides to return the insult in an equally ridiculous manner.
“Your hair. You look… like an angry oil slick.”
Vi scoffs. What a lame excuse for an insult.
“Don’t sugarcoat it, Cupcake,” Vi mutters.
Caitlyn doesn’t know if it’s the sadness in Vi’s voice or the use of the old nickname, but her eyes water slightly. She can’t continue this conversation. The guilt will eat her alive if she lets it. So she shoves those feelings aside and decides to really dig into the reasons the Zaunite is there.
Despite the tension, Vi confides in her the details of what has happened to Vander. A plan begins to take shape. It involves Caitlyn hitting Vi with her rifle, using handcuffs, and covering Vi’s face.
If you ask Caitlyn, all of it—except the rifle part—could’ve been part of one of those dreams that have plagued her sleep for months. She feels Vi’s complicity in the whole ordeal. It feels like old times, even though it hasn’t been that long and they were barely anything before Caitlyn left Vi crying in a pit.
This time, the Commander is determined not to fail. To stick by Vi.
Vi gestures at her. “Come at me.” Then, with a smirk, “C’mon, Cupcake, show me what you’ve got.”
Caitlyn swings her rifle and hits her perhaps a bit too hard. Vi looks at her, incredulous. “What the fuck, Cait?” she mutters.
Caitlyn shrugs, feeling a bit guilty. Except that this time, she knows better than to hit and not soothe. She steps closer, closing the distance between them. Moving slowly, as if afraid to scare Vi off, she cups her face and lightly brushes her thumb over the forming bruise.
Vi is startled, eyes wide. (Un)fortunately, she cannot bring herself to push Caitlyn away. And the warm touch on her cheek does soothe the pain. So she allows it to continue. Whatever it is. She leans into the touch, her shoulders relaxing just a bit, and almost imperceptibly nods. She keeps her eyes open, holding Cait’s gaze, daring her to act on whatever is happening between them. Caitlyn moves closer, slowly, measuring Vi’s reaction—just like she did the first time they kissed.
Although the scarred lips catch her attention, she places a soft kiss on Vi’s cheek, where her rifle struck seconds ago. She cups Vi’s face with both hands and feels her cheeks heating up. As she pulls back, she notices a pink blush and can’t help herself. She places another feather-light kiss on the same spot. Deliberately waits a couple of seconds, then plants another kiss. Then another. And another. On the other cheek. On the nose ring. On the face tattoo. Soon, she’s kissing Vi’s entire face, deliberately avoiding her full, scarred lips.
Vi shuts her eyes, tears threatening to spill. God, she has missed Caitlyn’s softness. She lets the other woman kiss her face, numbing the pain in her cheek and her soul . So many things are wrong between and around them. But the kiss and the tenderness feel right. It feels like them, even if momentary and fragile.
Caitlyn stops and presses her forehead against Vi’s. The last kiss, on her closed eyelids, tastes slightly salty. It forces Caitlyn to acknowledge the unspoken concern lingering between them.
“Vi,” the Commander manages to say. It comes out more choked up than she intends. “I’m sor—”
Vi silences her with a kiss—on the lips, unceremoniously. She isn’t ready to hear apologies. Or to forgive Caitlyn. And she suspects Caitlyn isn’t ready to forgive her either. Or to forgive Jinx for what she’s done. For what they’ve both done.
Caitlyn responds to the kiss—painfully aware that her apologies will likely never be enough. She accepts it silently, savoring a faint peach taste.
After what feels like just a few seconds, Vi stops the kiss as abruptly as she started it and clears her throat. They step away from each other. The moment dissipates.
Vi gives Caitlyn a small, pained smile, trying to offer an ounce of reassurance.
The kiss isn’t forgiveness. But it’s a start.
Caitlyn is not proud of herself when she impulsively kisses Vi on the lips before covering her face with the bag. She’s definitely not proud of herself when she deepens the kiss and straddles Vi, clutching onto the soft pink hair as if holding on for dear life. The sound that escapes Vi’s lips anchors Caitlyn further into the strong, muscular thighs beneath her, and she melts into the kiss. Ok, maybe she could be a little proud.
“Cupcake…”
It seems like a warning. They should stop this incredibly reckless course of action. Caitlyn tries to move away from Vi’s lips. But Vi’s powerful torso follows her, unwilling to break the kiss. She kisses Caitlyn messily, all tongue and desperation—raw want mixed with anger.
Something warm builds in Caitlyn’s chest, expanding to her lower belly. “I’ll stop if you ask me to,” she whispers. But Vi doesn’t ask her to do so.
The physical barrier encourages Caitlyn to be bolder, to plant open mouthed kisses in the gear tattoo, and take off the black jacket covering Vi’s athletic physique. It helps them both not deal with the impending reality they’re facing. It helps them not face each other with the truths they’ll eventually have to say to each other. The bag stays on. Caitlyn unbuttons Vi’s pants as easily as she would disassemble her own rifle. Despite the months apart, she still wears the same enforcer pants. Oh, Vi.
Vi pants when the long, refined fingers finally touch her. Under all the clothes and hurt, Caitlyn finds the bundle of nerves that begs for attention. Vi is glad she cannot see Caitlyn’s expression when she finds her wet, hot, and embarrassingly ready. Would she be surprised? Delighted, even? For the time being, she is relieved she can at least hide the blush in her cheeks, and imagine Caitlyn’s expression leaning towards something positive and not repulsed.
Neither of them acknowledges how easily Vi could undo the handcuffs. They both know (their whole plan depended on it). But neither wants to change the dynamic.
Caitlyn’s hand is at an uncomfortable angle, and she’s still wearing her gloves. She can barely believe what they’re doing, and how incautious she’s being. She explores what she can with the limited range of movement that the position allows. She gently probes, almost teasingly, trying to gauge Vi’s reactions. As if time weren’t an issue, she tries different rhythms, patterns, and pressure levels, until she finally finds the sweet balance that has Vi making the sweetest sounds she's ever heard in her life.
Slowly, Caitlyn’s fingers have her brain turning to mush. She’s also vaguely aware she’s now whimpering. How humiliating. If it wasn't for the diligent circles Caitlyn traces, and the mounting speed the dexterous fingers are exerting, she would kick herself down.
“I’m close”, she announces, raspy voice a bit strangled. Even without the verbal cue, Caitlyn can feel it. She makes a split moment decision and brings her face closer to Vi’s ear.
“Good,” she mumbles. “I’ve got you” she promises. And she means it. This time, she wants to be there for her regardless of the personal consequences she might face. A few strokes later, Vi’s body tenses, her hips roughly grind on the gloved hand. It's Patiently, Caitlyn slows her movements, bringing her down from her orgasm.
When it’s over, Vi removes the bag and undoes the cuffs in one swift motion. She pulls Caitlyn against her chest. Caitlyn holds her in return, tracing soft circles on her shoulders.
“This hardly changes anything, Cupcake.” Vi’s voice is quiet, heavy.
“I know,” Caitlyn admits. “I know.” She wipes her hand on her thigh, she clenches her fists.
Vi sighs, rubbing a hand over her face before glancing at Caitlyn, something unreadable in her expression. "We should go," she mutters, but she doesn’t move. Caitlyn hesitates before reaching out, fingertips brushing against Vi’s wrist. A silent promise. "Yeah," she finally says. "Let’s go."
Bag’s back on. No kissing this time.