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Caitlyn won't stand still. Caitlyn doesn't need rest. Caitlyn doesn't need a vacation. Caitlyn doesn't need a break. And most damned of all, Caitlyn doesn't need recovery from an injury she could have avoided if she'd just been a little more careful. Because if Caitlyn Kiramman ever stops moving, she fears the Twin Cities will plunge each other into chaos in the blink of an eye. And she can't afford that, not as Caitlyn, not as Kiramman, and certainly not as the sheriff of this town. "Don't you need anything else?" Vi's unusually quiet voice pulls her from her thoughts. Yes, and then there's Vi, who didn't hesitate for a second to submit a leave request that Caitlyn - as she now knows - should have refused, just to stay by her side and care for her around the clock. Her dear, sweet Violet, who would sooner do anything to keep her eyes on Caitlyn for even a second, and whom she's now sending out of the house with the excuse that she's craving sweets and needs a very specific tea - the kind she can't even remember - just to escape her overprotective care for a moment. "Just go," Caitlyn grumbles through gritted teeth, already regretting her cold tone the moment the words leave her lips. Because she knows, of course, that Vi doesn't deserve to have her bad mood taken out on her. Vi doesn't deserve to be sent away - even if only briefly - just because she feels suffocated. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches as Vi, her brow furrowed, nods slowly and then turns to leave, whispering, "Okay," so quietly that Caitlyn can barely hear her.
And damn it, she's done it again, hurting Vi, the last thing she wants to do, and yet she manages it seemingly twenty times a day since her doctor, her father, and Vi started keeping her housebound. "Vi," she calls, her voice much softer, and Vi doesn't hesitate to turn back to her. "Come here for a minute, darling," Caitlyn coaxes. With slumped shoulders, Vi trots toward her again, almost like a kicked puppy hoping for one last pat before being sent out into the rain, and crouches down in front of her as Caitlyn reaches for her hand and looks closer. "I'm sorry," Caitlyn whispers sympathetically, gently stroking her cheek. Her mother would scold her for this; in her eyes, whispered apologies had always been an admission of weakness, but Vi deserved nothing more than loving hands and tender words. Vi looks up at her, her eyebrows still slightly furrowed, but her powder-blue gaze soft and full of affection. "Not much longer," she replies softly, gently patting Caitlyn's uninjured leg. Even now, Vi manages to elicit a small smile, and Caitlyn leans closer to breathe a loving kiss onto her scarred lips. Vi sighs softly into the kiss and nestles for a moment in Caitlyn's hand, which is still against her cheek. With a final press of her lips against Vi's, Caitlyn pulls away just enough to rest her forehead against Vi's and exhale deeply - regretfully. Vi lingers a little longer in her undoubtedly uncomfortable position, her hands resting warmly and gently on Caitlyn's thighs, clearly enjoying the moment of silence. "I won't be gone long," she whispers finally, pressing another kiss to the tip of Caitlyn's nose, which makes her giggle slightly, before she slowly stands up and leaves the room.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Caitlyn's gaze drifted back to the mountain of files on her desk, the bit of administrative work Vi made her do when Caitlyn obediently hobbled the few meters from their bedroom to the office, her cane in hand, Vi close beside her, dropping everything as soon as Vi decided she'd done enough for the day. She really didn't want to be angry with Vi, she truly felt sorry for her, and - as so often these past few days - she had to remind herself that it wasn't Vi's fault, that Vi only meant well, cared for her, and wanted her to be better. But damn it, it was so exhausting, only pretending to work for a few hours each day, and spending the rest of the time in bed doing absolutely nothing but reading, being read to, sleeping, eating, and cuddling. Okay, she liked the cuddling, she had to admit, but she missed the exercise, her independence, her damned freedom. Caitlyn snorts, humorless and unladylike, before attempting to turn her attention to the next tedious case file, one she would have much rather helped solve than simply sign off on. It's a sensational case of Shimmer smuggling, in which the smugglers actually managed to hijack an airship from Piltover's harbor, overload it with Shimmer in a nighttime operation, and then blow it up over the sea just off the coast. They themselves had heard the explosion here at the estate, and even Vi had admitted she would have loved to have seen it live. That's how their days go now, isn't it? Something exciting happens outside, and Caitlyn reads about it in the newspaper the next day, later signing the report, while Vi overhears rumors from the staff, which she embellishes and recounts with exaggerated gestures, much to Caitlyn's amusement. Caitlyn angrily slams her pen down on the work surface, ignoring the ink running haphazardly across the file, while her thoughts, through gritted teeth, return to that fateful day that has - albeit only temporarily - kept her confined to the house.
It had all started quite inconspicuously, just a normal workday like any other. She and Vi had arrived at the precinct on time. Vi had gotten ready for her patrol in Zaun, and Caitlyn had gone to her office to finalize the shift schedules for the coming week, which she hadn't yet gotten around to. But then one of her officers had burst in and told her about a bank robbery that had just been reported - in broad daylight, what kind of idiots do that? So Caitlyn had pulled on her bulletproof vest and grabbed her rifle before following the officer and a hastily assembled team to the scene. By then, the bank robbery had turned into a hostage situation, and Caitlyn had quickly hurried to the house across the street, forced her way inside, and run up the stairs to the roof, from where she had a perfect view of the bank's interior and the perpetrators. Three quick, precise shots had been enough to incapacitate the bank robbers, and Caitlyn had taken a moment to watch as her enforcers stormed the building, arrested the criminals, and escorted the hostages out. She was already looking forward to telling Vi about her little act of heroism later and hurried back down the stairs a little too quickly to oversee the removal of the detainees. That's when it happened: her foot caught on one of the uneven steps, Caitlyn stumbled, couldn't catch herself in time, and tumbled down the remaining steps until her knee hit the landing hard. She heard the crack in her kneecap at the same moment the pain set in, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out. Somehow she had managed to get back on her feet and hobble to her team (because Kirammans never hop on one leg, as her mother had scolded her more than once during her childhood), who immediately took her to the nearest hospital.
The diagnosis was as simple as it was devastating: a comminuted fracture of the kneecap. She had undergone surgery to replace her knee with a Hextech-reinforced artificial joint, and no sooner had she woken from the anesthesia than Vi threatened to quit if she didn't grant her leave. So, Caitlyn hadn't had much of a choice if she didn't want to jeopardize her beloved deputy position, and she signed the paperwork allowing Vi to stay by her side until she was fit for duty again. After the surgery had gone well and her body had accepted the transplant without further complications, the doctors had fitted her with a stiff brace, placed her in a wheelchair, and ordered her to rest and give her body time to recover. Four weeks had passed since then, and when her doctor visited her yesterday and caught her limping with her cane instead of lying obediently in bed as ordered, he gave her the same lecture on self-care that Vi had received from none other than herself the last time she'd overdone it with her training and sprained her wrist. Well, Vi had improved since then, but she hadn't, otherwise she wouldn't be sitting here at her desk. But honestly, as much as she'd initially enjoyed being able to just stay in bed and let Vi take care of her, it was starting to get on her nerves. By now, she'd swear on her mother's grave that having to sit still for even one more day caused her physical pain.
Caitlyn growled softly to herself - something Kirammans would never do, but she hadn't followed those rules for a long time - and made a decision. Her father was at a conference, and Vi would be gone for a while longer. So, what if...? Without hesitation, Caitlyn grabbed her walking stick, hoisted herself up, and hobbled out of her office much faster than she probably should. The stairs posed a challenge, but she overcame it with unwavering stubbornness, though not without feeling at least a little proud of herself. In a record-breakingly fast time for someone with a disability, she reached the door of the training room, which she had by now adapted more for Vi than for herself, and flung it open with an angry gesture. The clanking of her cane was muffled by the exercise mats as she hobbled past the dumbbells and heavy punching bag to the back of the spacious room, a place she had often used in her youth to improve her fitness and balance. Even as a child, she had been more interested in firearms, but she understood her mother's teachings and the reasoning behind them when she had also taught her fencing. Even now, Caitlyn would have preferred to reach for her rifle, but she knew perfectly well that the nearest shooting range belonged to the Enforcers' headquarters, and Vi would know immediately if she showed up there. And the Kirammans' private range was outside the city, and even with the most generous interpretation of the rules, there wouldn't be enough time to fire a single shot before Vi dispatched all the Enforcers and the Firelights to search for her.
With a soft clatter, Caitlyn drops her walking stick against the nearest shelf and reaches for a fencing kit that fits her size. For a moment, she considers whether to wear the black vest or the white jacket, then opts for the jacket, carelessly tossing the vest back onto the shelf. Finally, she grabs the mask, pulls it on, and picks up one of the blunt rapiers before walking deliberately but with a limp across the training mat and into position. Her muscle memory recalls the initial en-garde stance as if she had only trained yesterday, and she moves into position with practiced ease - knees slightly bent, feet at right angles to each other, her right foot pointing toward her imaginary opponent, her shoulders relaxed yet tense with anticipation. She lunges forward, her blunt blade thrusts skillfully into the air, and her right leg buckles with a painful crunch. With a half-suppressed, painful gasp, Caitlyn straightens up, gets back into position, and tries again. This time, a low growl, almost a scream, escapes her as she clenches her teeth, but she doesn't give up. Caitlyn doesn't know how many times she tries before her leg finally gives way, and she barely manages to drag herself to one of the benches along the wall before collapsing completely.
Her rapier dangled uselessly in her right hand, and her stocking slowly slid down her right calf as she pulled her left hand over her face, burying it in her hand. Her doctors had called it the recovery process, time to heal and readjust. But how on earth was she supposed to recover when her body wouldn't obey her? How could she ever return to her former state when even the simplest step eluded her? Caitlyn exhaled sharply and didn't hear the door to the training room quietly open and close. Deep in her spiral of self-loathing and despair, she didn't hear the heavy footsteps approaching slowly and deliberately. She only startles when a calloused but gentle hand closes around her jaw and tenderly lifts her chin. "Hey," Vi whispers in a rough voice, her concern unmistakable, and Caitlyn can't bring herself to look her in the eye, nor does she reply. Vi doesn't force her to do anything, simply holds her chin in her rough hand and gently runs her thumb along her jaw. Out of the corner of her eye, Caitlyn notices her clothes for the first time: black, tight-fitting pants, a dark T-shirt, and a red sweatshirt jacket over it. A small shoulder bag dangles from her side, and a paper bag from her favorite bakery peeks out from under the flap. Caitlyn can already hear Vi mocking and scolding, the reprimand in her voice, but Vi remains calm. When Caitlyn slowly, then shyly, looks up at her, Vi's gaze isn't on her, but rather wanders around the room as if searching for something.
Vi doesn't shout, scold, or lecture Caitlyn about taking it easy. Instead, her gaze travels along the rapier, over Caitlyn's defiantly bent figure, before her eyes gently meet her. "Show me," Vi says simply, in a calm voice, as if Caitlyn weren't injured, as if she didn't need a cane or Vi's arm to help her up. "Vi," Caitlyn whispers, unsure of what she wants to say, and it takes a moment for Vi's words to register. But Vi stands relentlessly before her, brimming with grace and strength, and doesn't even attempt to offer Caitlyn her hand or help her up. Instead, she simply drops her bag, throws off her jacket, and tosses it roughly into the corner. With difficulty, Caitlyn straightens her shoulders, walks past Vi, and puts her mask back on. Throughout this time, Vi's eyes remain watchful, yet gently fixed on her. Her raised eyebrow betrays neither mockery nor disdain, merely a silent challenge, as she still stands unarmed, chest puffed out with pride, her strong hands on her hips, like the unshakeable rock she has always been for Caitlyn. For a brief moment, Caitlyn takes in Vi, her muscular legs, her slim waist, and how tightly her black shirt clings to her toned torso, its rolled-up sleeves serving no other purpose than to accentuate her deliberately flexed biceps.
Caitlyn takes a deep breath and resumes her position. An excellent en-garde, followed by a hip turn, and her rapier strikes Vi exactly where she intended - her abs not even beginning to yield to the pressure of her blunt weapon. Vi still stares at her, unfazed, but a small smile twitches barely concealed around her lip, gently tugging at the scar there. Her gaze follows Caitlyn as she retreats and repositions herself. But instead of charging straight back, Caitlyn takes a deft step back, as if Vi were attacking, before turning again, the blunt tip of her rapier stopping just inches from Vi's pretty face. Her smile, irritating as it is, widens, and Caitlyn watches her throat move as she swallows hard. She retreats once more, relieved that her mask conceals the heat rising instantly to her cheeks. Vi hums softly and nods approvingly, but otherwise still makes no move to approach her own rapier. Time to raise the stakes a little, Caitlyn thinks to herself, smiling inwardly. She gets back into position, takes a lunge forward, and feels the tension tingle through her body as she manages to hold on this time, the dull tip pressing once more against Vi's abs, barely concealed by the tight shirt. "Okay... enough showing off, darling," Caitlyn gasps. "Please put on your back mask on," she instructs Vi, remaining in her position. Her knee still aches, but it's not as bad as before.
Vi's smile widens, almost predatory, and her eyes narrow as she follows the trajectory of the rapier until she's looking directly at Caitlyn. "Or what?" she asks sharply, her voice low but challenging, while Caitlyn feels as if Vi can see right through her mask and into her. Slowly, Caitlyn pulls back, crouches in front of Vi, and looks up at her with her head slightly tilted, giving the impression that she's seriously considering Vi's question, but in truth, she already knows the answer. Lightning fast, she stands up, puts her arm around Vi's back, and spins her around once. As predicted, Vi loses her balance - if only for a moment - grabs Caitlyn's waist, and her head falls back as she exhales with a gasp. The rapier rests gently against the cogwheel tattoo on her neck as Vi, without looking, reaches up and slips the mask off Caitlyn's face, pressing her entire body against hers. Caitlyn can feel Vi shudder slightly as the breath from her slightly parted lips brushes against her exposed neck. Leaning closer, she breathes a feather-light kiss onto Vi's throat, "Got you," she whispers teasingly against her soft skin, letting Vi feel the sly smile on her lips. Without a reply, Vi straightens up, remaining close to Caitlyn, and carelessly lets the mask fall to the ground as she smiles and her eyes soften, then reaches for the hem of Caitlyn's fencing jacket, lifting it just enough to hint at her intentions.
Only now does Caitlyn realize she's backed into a wall. She straightens up, still towering over Vi. Her rapier clatters to the ground, and her hand absentmindedly moves to Vi's jaw. Her thumb gently presses just below her lip, drawing Vi up. With her now free hand, she subtly feels for the crotch strap of Vi's jacket and, with a practiced movement, unfastens it. Vi's gaze darkens, darting between her eyes and lips, before she lowers her face slightly, surrendering to Caitlyn. Caitlyn's thumb now caresses Vi's full lips, and she exhales softly as Vi's hand moves again, slowly and unbearably pushing her top up her body until her midriff is exposed. The cool air on her slightly sweaty skin makes her shiver, but she doesn't think of it as Vi looks up at her once more. There's a gentleness in her powder-blue eyes that deeply moves her, and behind them, hidden deep within, something else, something more primal: desire. Still without a word, Vi raises her hand, which is still holding the fabric of Caitlyn's top, and silently demands that Caitlyn open her lips. She does, completely overwhelmed by how she had just been in control, and how Vi had so effortlessly wrested it from her with just a few gestures and her burning gaze. She grips the hem of her jacket with her teeth, as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded in reality, and watches with a raised eyebrow as Vi kneels before her. She shudders and has to suppress a gasp as Vi's lips touch her stomach, kiss after kiss following the contours of her defined muscles, while her hands grip the waistband of her trousers, slowly revealing more of her.
Vi takes her time, covering every inch of freshly exposed skin with soft kisses. Carefully, she shifts her weight to support Caitlyn, helping her remove her shoes and socks before she takes off the rest of her trousers and panties. Caitlyn stands over her, the hem of her jacket still between her teeth, watching with fluttering eyelids as Vi gently lifts her injured knee and supports it with her strong hand, breathing kisses first over every inch of the bandage and then onto her thigh. Vi has barely touched her, and yet Caitlyn already feels completely at the end of her rope. Every tender kiss from those scarred lips makes her skin tingle, every stroke of her tongue along the inside of her thigh intensifies the arousal she hadn't even known existed just a few minutes ago. She hadn't taken her eyes off Vi for a single second, watching with fascination as she seemed to enjoy it too, humming softly and kissing her way down the inside of her thigh with her eyes closed. Vi shifted her weight again, resting Caitlyn's bandaged leg on her shoulder, her hand around her thigh, the other around her waist, her fingertips pressing lightly into her skin. As if of its own accord, Caitlyn's hand found its way into Vi's hair, her fingers catching in the longer strands, a silent plea to Vi not to stop. She didn't pull Vi closer - even though she wanted to and knew Vi would follow without resistance - nor did she push her away, simply holding her, sighing softly around the fabric in her mouth.
With her free hand, Caitlyn gropes for the wall behind her, seeking better support, and shifts her hips slightly forward and upward to give Vi easier access. Silently, she begs Vi to finally kiss her where she so desperately craves it, where her very core is already ablaze and where her wetness clings to the insides of her thighs. And Vi does so without hesitation, plunging in and pressing one last gentle kiss to her mons pubis before sliding her flat tongue through it, tasting her again for the first time in a very, very long time. Vi moans softly, and Caitlyn can only whimper as Vi repeats her movement, savoring her, her tongue seeking every drop with its increasingly insistent exploration. As impatient as Vi is in absolutely every other situation, here she takes all the time in the world, tasting and enjoying as much as she gives and pampers Caitlyn. Her breathing quickens, and her lustful whimpers are increasingly punctuated by soft gasps and sighs. Vi alternates between sucking and licking her, her eyes always closed, humming contentedly as if the world had ceased to exist, as if there were nothing else for her but kneeling between Caitlyn's legs. Her hands hold her securely upright, supporting and sustaining her as the pressure inside her intensifies. Caitlyn's legs begin to tremble, her eyes fluttering shut as she reaches her climax with a muffled moan, her back slightly arched, her head thrown back, the hem of her top still caught between her teeth and now pulled up high enough to reveal the bottom of her sports bra. Vi guides her gently and skillfully through it, finding just the right spots, her fingers caressing her skin tenderly, almost soothingly, on her leg and waist, where she still holds her securely.
A final, stifled gasp escaped Caitlyn's lips as she slowly came back down, no longer able to hold onto the hem of her top. It slid easily down her body as her legs buckled at the same moment. But Vi was already there - of course she was - catching her and lifting Caitlyn onto her lap as effortlessly as if she weighed nothing. Relieved, Caitlyn snuggled against her, one hand still in her hair, the other clutching the fabric of her shirt over her shoulder, her face buried in the crook of Vi's neck, still gasping for breath as she inhaled her earthy scent. In this position, she could carefully extend her injured leg behind Vi, while bending the other and wrapping it around Vi's waist. Vi stroked her back soothingly, gently running her hand through the small hairs on the back of her neck that had escaped her bun. Where anger and despair had reigned within Caitlyn just moments before, there was now a quieter stillness, replaced by a feeling of security and a longing she was only now truly becoming aware of. "I missed you," Caitlyn mumbled a little indistinctly against Vi's neck, enjoying the feeling of being held in her strong arms. Vi paused for a moment before the tender caresses resumed. "Me too," she admitted softly, pulling Caitlyn even closer. Oh, she shouldn't have said that, but that wasn't Vi's fault either, was it? Because there it was again, that damned tightness in her chest, the one she'd felt in recent weeks precisely when she'd yelled at Vi, neglected her, or simply ignored her attempts to care for her.
It shouldn't be so hard for her to pull away from Vi now and look into her eyes. But it is, and she can barely meet Vi's loving gaze. Vi seems to notice this too and gently places a hand on her jaw, without lifting her head, simply there, simply touching, simply grounding. "So you're not mad at me?" Caitlyn manages to ask in a trembling voice, finally daring to look at Vi properly, her hand lightly nestled against her cheek, just for reassurance. Vi giggles softly, "Cupcake," she moves closer and presses a gentle kiss under her ear, "Did I just seem mad at you?" The amusement is clearly audible in her voice, but there's no mockery. A faint smile plays around the corner of Caitlyn's mouth, triggered by Vi's lightheartedness, but that wasn't really what she wanted to say. She takes a deep breath and her gaze falls again. "I really don't deserve you," she whispers, just loud enough to hang between them. Vi says nothing, but now her other hand closes around Caitlyn's jaw, her fingers gently on the back of her neck. She pulls Caitlyn closer and presses a kiss so tender to her forehead that it breaks Caitlyn's heart. But she allows it, her hands anchoring themselves to Vi's thighs, lingering where Vi's lips haven't yet left hers. "Tell me that nonsense again and I might reconsider," Vi says softly, her thumbs feather-light across Caitlyn's cheeks, catching a single tear she hadn't even noticed. Her soft lips now traverse Caitlyn's face, over the tip of her nose, her cheeks, and her jaw, before she pulls back slightly and locks her eyes into Caitlyn's, still incredibly gentle and loving.
For a moment, there's silence between them, and they simply gaze at each other, Vi's powder-blue eyes filled with love, Caitlyn still anxious and remorseful. Then Vi speaks again, "We all have shitty days sometimes," she shrugs casually, her voice warm and calm, "and hey," she nods slightly toward Caitlyn's injured knee, "I get it." Caitlyn takes a deep breath, wants to say something, but doesn't know what, except to disagree with Vi. But she doesn't have to, because Vi isn't finished yet, and a mischievous smile spreads across her scarred lips, making her eyes sparkle, "Remember when I dislocated my shoulder last time?" Caitlyn nods slightly, and a small smile plays on her lips. Of course she remembers, because Vi had been unbearable for two whole weeks. "Two days in bed and I felt like jumping out the window," Vi explains, far too confidently, grinning at her with an endearingly cheeky grin. "Or when the barbell fell on my foot and I couldn't walk properly for a few days?" Vi continues enthusiastically. "Oh, or when I sprained my wrist boxing?" Vi grins unashamedly. And now Caitlyn actually giggles, it's watery but genuine. "Hmmm," she hums, "and you blamed me for it," she remembers in a teasing voice. Vi giggles too now. "Yes, damn it, Cupcake!" she exclaims playfully. "That never would have happened if you hadn't come in half-naked." Caitlyn snorted haughtily. "I wasn't half-naked, Violet," she chided playfully. "I was wearing sweatpants and a sports bra." Vi still had that annoyingly endearing grin on her lips and nodded confidently. "I told you, half-naked," she said, and gently pinched her hip.
Caitlyn gives her a playful pat on the shoulder, noticeably more relaxed now, and leans back against her, running her hands through Vi's hair, gently playing with her longer strands. The smile lingers on her lips, but Vi's tone becomes more serious again. "I know I'm overreacting and getting on your nerves," she says softly, "but it's not intentional, I'm just worried about you." Caitlyn rests her forehead against Vi's and closes her eyes for a moment. "I know," she admits, "I feel the same way," and lovingly strokes Vi's undercut. Vi almost purrs and tilts her head slightly. "Maybe..." she muses, "we could just try telling each other when we're getting on each other's nerves?" She doesn't really want to, and yet Caitlyn can't help but giggle again. "I've never seen you so diplomatic, darling," she teases, then becomes serious again. "But I like the idea." Vi's smile widens again, and she beautifully tugs at the scar on her upper lip. "Yes?" she beams at Caitlyn, clasping her hands behind Caitlyn's back to hold her close. "Yes," Caitlyn confirms, leaning closer. "I love you," she whispers against her lips. A first soft kiss follows. "I love you too," Vi smiles in response, before they meet again, their lips now touching in a long, slow kiss. Caitlyn sighs with pleasure, still tasting the scent of herself on Vi's lips, and pulls her even closer with one hand through her hair, the other gently around her neck, her thumb stroking the gear tattoo. Vi tilts her head to deepen the kiss and hums blissfully as Caitlyn opens herself to her. That too was far too long ago, and Caitlyn pulls away just long enough to whisper "take me to bed, Violet" against her lips. Vi giggles softly against her mouth, "maybe we should put your pants back on first," and gently nibbles her lower lip.