Chapter Text
"So, you’re telling me I won’t be a good parent?" Vi asked, incredulous, staring at Caitlyn like she’d grown a second head.
All the parenting she did for Powder growing up flashed through her mind like a reel. The scraped knees she patched up, the tantrums she endured, the disasters she barely prevented.
And still, Caitlyn was telling her this?
Caitlyn sighed, slow and tired, then shifted, sitting up against the headboard. She planted her back firmly, letting her legs stretch out comfortably over the bed, her nightgown brushing lightly against her thighs.
Vi lifted her head slightly off the pillow, frowning at her.
Caitlyn patted her thighs, giving her a pointed look. "Come here."
Vi narrowed her eyes, suspicious. She could tell by Caitlyn’s tone—and the serious way she was sitting—that this wasn’t just casual pillow talk anymore.
This was about to become a discussion.
Probably the kind she wasn’t going to enjoy much.
Still... she sighed and pushed herself up, crawling over and resting her head gently on Caitlyn’s bare legs. The skin was warm against her cheek, soft in a way that made something deep inside Vi settle a little, even if her mind wasn’t quite ready to relax yet.
She could feel Caitlyn running her fingers lightly through her hair, and Vi closed her eyes for a second, breathing out slowly.
She wasn’t about to mess this up. Especially not now, when things between them were good. Better than good. They were finally finding a rhythm again, something real.
And after the accident...
Yeah, after the accident, a lot of things looked different.
Surviving that crash earlier felt like a slap in the face from the universe, a big flashing sign that said, wake up, idiot.
Not that she thought her life was a total disaster. She had her company. She had money. She had influence.
Okay—maybe her marriage had been a disaster.
And maybe— maybe —her relationship with her sister was a flaming pile of wreckage too.
And fine, if she was being honest, she had a little—just a tiny bit—of lingering anger and resentment towards her dad.
Vi huffed a breath out through her nose, dragging a hand through her hair.
Alright. So maybe there were a few areas she could work on.
And maybe, just maybe, she could start by working on things with her ex-wife. Soon-to-be wife again.
Someday.
If she didn’t screw it up.
Caitlyn’s fingers threaded through Vi’s hair, slow and steady, until suddenly she spoke up.
"Do you understand why I said what I said?" Caitlyn asked, her voice quiet but clear, still stroking gently.
Vi shifted a little against her thighs, letting out a small huff through her nose. Okay, fine. Maybe she wasn’t exactly the warmest child-parent back then.
She was snippy. She got annoyed easily.
But aside from that... she still felt like she did a pretty good job.
Powder turned out smart. Independent. Strong.
Vi rolled her eyes at herself and sighed.
"Yeah, alright," she mumbled. "Maybe I wasn’t the nicest parent out there. But I still think I did okay, all things considered."
The stroking stopped.
Caitlyn looked down at her, her expression serious as she caught Vi’s gaze.
"If that's how you plan to parent our pups," Caitlyn said firmly, "you can forget about getting me pregnant."
Vi blinked, stunned silent for a second.
Caitlyn didn’t look away. "I’m not having pups with you just for them to grow up feeling the way Powder did and still does now. No matter how good your intentions are."
Vi opened her mouth, about to defend herself, but Caitlyn held up a hand, cutting her off immediately.
"It’s not even about gentle parenting versus disciplining," Caitlyn said, her tone soft but steady. "It’s about how we, as parents, would interact with them. Day to day. How we make them feel."
She lowered her hand, her fingertips brushing lightly against Vi’s cheek now, not angry, just firm.
"I don’t want our pups ever feeling like they’re a regret," Caitlyn said. "Or like they have to earn being loved. Because that’s how you made Powder feel."
Vi swallowed, the words hitting harder than she expected, no matter how gently Caitlyn said them.
Caitlyn sighed, her fingers resuming their soft movements through Vi’s hair.
"It’s not like I didn’t see everything you did for Powder," she said, her voice low, almost gentle. "All the things you gave up so she could have a carefree childhood."
Vi stayed still, listening.
Caitlyn’s fingers brushed lightly against her temple.
"I know you did good," Caitlyn went on. "And I understand why you were the way you were back then. You were grieving. And at the same time, you were trying to fill the hole your mum left behind... all while hiding from everyone how much you were hurting too."
Caitlyn’s hand slowed, fingertips tracing slow, absent-minded circles on Vi’s head.
"You needed someone to ask how you were doing," Caitlyn said softly. "You needed someone to see you were breaking too."
Vi didn’t say anything. She couldn’t.
Her throat felt thick, choked with words she couldn’t even begin to form.
Caitlyn wasn’t just telling her things she didn’t want to hear. She was telling her things Vi had buried a long time ago. Stuff she’d shoved down so deep she pretended it didn’t matter anymore.
Hearing it now—out loud—was like someone shining a light into places she wasn’t ready to look at.
Vi squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face against Caitlyn’s bare thigh.
Silent, steady tears slipped down her cheeks, soaking into Caitlyn’s skin, and Vi didn’t even try to stop them.
Caitlyn’s hand stilled for a moment, then started stroking again, softer now.
"You did so well making sure Powder had a normal childhood," Caitlyn said, her voice dropping even lower. "You gave her the freedom to have fun. To make mistakes. To dream."
She paused, fingers tangling gently through Vi’s hair.
"But even then," Caitlyn added, barely above a whisper now, "the way you treated Powder... it’s not something I want our pups to experience too."
Vi lay there, breathing against Caitlyn’s skin, feeling every word settle deep into her bones.
Caitlyn sighed again, the sound soft but heavy, and her hand stopped moving through Vi’s hair.
She shifted slightly, then asked, "Now that you’re looking back on all of it... do you understand why I said I don’t want you referencing your parenting skills from when you were raising Powder?"
Vi exhaled against Caitlyn’s thigh, the warmth of her breath brushing against her skin. She reached up blindly, found Caitlyn’s hand, and gently guided it back to her head.
"Yeah," Vi muttered, closing her eyes again as Caitlyn’s fingers started stroking through her hair once more. "I get it."
The room stayed quiet for a bit, just the soft drag of Caitlyn’s nails over Vi’s scalp.
Then Vi shifted a little, mumbling into her thigh, "Do you think I’ll be a good parent? When we have pups?"
Caitlyn hummed, not immediately answering. She carded her fingers through Vi’s hair again, slow and thoughtful.
"I’m not sure yet," she said honestly. "We don’t have pups to prove anything. And the only pup you raised... well, she resents you so much she’s not exactly the best data sample, is she?"
Vi groaned, turning her face into Caitlyn’s leg in pure frustration. "What do you want me to do about it?"
Caitlyn’s hand left her hair, gliding down to the back of Vi’s neck, then up to her cheeks. She cupped Vi’s face gently, guiding her to look up.
Vi blinked at her, trying not to pout but definitely failing.
Caitlyn smiled, a little sad around the edges.
"You’ve been parenting Powder since you were a kid," Caitlyn said quietly. "But you're both older now. Powder doesn’t need a parent anymore."
She brushed her thumb lightly across Vi’s cheekbone.
"Maybe she just needs her sister back," Caitlyn said, voice soft. "The sister she lost when you had to become something else."
Vi swallowed hard, her chest tightening.
Caitlyn exhaled slowly, like she was letting something heavy go.
"Maybe," Caitlyn said, still stroking her cheek, "you should work on fixing what’s broken between you and Powder... before you start thinking about putting a baby inside me."
Vi laughed a little, a broken, watery sound.
“Where do I even start?” she asked, closing her eyes and leaned back into Caitlyn’s touch.
Eventually, Caitlyn’s thighs—maybe her whole leg, honestly—started to fall asleep, and Vi finally peeled herself off them.
They both stretched out, settling under the covers.
"We should get some rest," Caitlyn murmured, shifting to lie on her side. "The gala’s tomorrow, and I’ll need every ounce of energy I have to smile at people I’d rather not be trapped in a room with."
Vi snorted, amused. "You say that like it’s not half your job."
Caitlyn rolled her eyes, then leaned in for a kiss. Vi met her halfway—deep enough to leave them a little breathless, but still soft. Careful. Measured.
Nothing more. Not tonight.
They fell asleep curled around each other, Caitlyn tucked behind her, one arm wrapped across Vi’s waist, her lips resting against the back of Vi’s neck.
It was… peaceful.
But that peace was short and only stayed in Vi’s dreams because the next morning, Vi woke up to the smell of something burning.
Her eyes flew open. Heart already jumping into gear. She kicked the covers off, legs swinging off the bed before her brain fully caught up.
“Caitlyn?” she called out, already halfway across the room.
No answer.
She checked the bathroom—empty.
Panic twisted in her gut as she rushed down the stairs. The burning smell was stronger now, sharp and acrid.
When she reached the kitchen, she saw it.
Caitlyn. Standing there like she hadn’t just set off five silent alarms in Vi’s head.
Something on the stove was definitely burning.
Vi rushed to her side, flicked the burner off without a word, and turned to Caitlyn, wide-eyed.
"What are you doing?"
Caitlyn looked ridiculously pleased with herself. "I was cooking."
Vi blinked. "You don’t know how to cook."
"I do," Caitlyn said, chin lifting. "I’m just not very good at it."
Vi stared at her for a second, then gestured at the scorched mess. "Hence… the burning."
Caitlyn shrugged like that was completely fair. "It’s the thought that counts."
Vi ran a hand down her face, groaning. "Not when you’re about to burn the whole house down."
She glanced around at the mess on the counter. "What were you even trying to cook?"
"Pancakes," Caitlyn said with a proud smile, lifting her chin slightly as if she’d conquered some impossible feat.
She knew her limits. She wasn’t exactly a brilliant cook—fine, she wasn’t even an average one—but surely, she could improve. People improved all the time, didn’t they? And what better time to start than now, cooking for Vi the morning after she’d survived a bloody car accident?
It wasn’t as if she could’ve done this last night either. Pancakes were meant for breakfast, not post-hospital meals. Plus, Caitlyn had at least enough sense to let a full day pass before sending Vi back to the emergency room.
Not that she intended for Vi to end up there again, obviously, but... she could admit the risk existed.
Cover all your bases, they said.
Besides, Caitlyn added breezily, Vi wasn’t even supposed to wake up yet. Caitlyn had been hoping to finish, fan away the smoke, and serve breakfast like some domestic goddess Vi would marvel at.
"I just wanted to do something nice," Caitlyn added, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "You always said I never did anything grand for you before. And really, what grander act of service is there than cooking?"
Vi groaned, stepping closer, and cupped Caitlyn’s face in her hands. She kissed her—light, quick, full of affection.
"It would’ve also been really nice," Vi said, voice dry but fond, "if, in this grand act of service, you didn’t almost burn the kitchen down."
Caitlyn shrugged, deadpan. "Sacrifices had to be made. Besides, the kitchen didn’t burn down, stop exaggerating. There was just a little bit of smoke, that’s all."
Vi sighed and shook her head, clearly amused but still wearing a look of deep suspicion towards Caitlyn’s cooking efforts.
Caitlyn caught the look immediately and pouted at her, sticking out her bottom lip just slightly.
"Are you telling me you don’t appreciate my cooking?" she asked, voice soft and wounded.
When Vi didn’t answer straight away, Caitlyn pouted harder, tilting her head and adding, "You’re not even going to eat it?"
She mumbled under her breath, still pouting, "I’m fairly certain the pancakes are at least edible."
Caitlyn’s emotional blackmail seemed to hit its mark because Vi, who at first had looked both surprised and mildly horrified that her normally frigid, emotionally distant ex-wife was resorting to full-on wife-coded tactics, groaned loudly.
"Of course I’ll eat whatever you cooked," Vi said, dragging a hand down her face before muttering under her breath—but loud enough for Caitlyn to catch it—"even if it kills me."
Caitlyn laughed, bright and unbothered. "I didn’t poison the pancakes."
Vi blinked at her, raising one unimpressed eyebrow. "And how sure are you about that?"
Caitlyn smiled sweetly. "As sure as crows are white."
Vi looked genuinely thrown for a second, surprise flickering across her face.
Before she could open her mouth and point out that crows were definitely supposed to be black, Caitlyn seized her chance—grabbing a fork and shoving a portion of pancake straight into Vi’s mouth, making her splutter around it.
Caitlyn beamed at her, looking far too pleased with herself as Vi coughed and glared at her over a mouthful of slightly-burnt pancake.
After the initial coughing, Vi started to chew, her eyebrows lifting slightly as she hummed like she might actually be enjoying it.
Caitlyn looked at her, wide-eyed and waiting, arms loosely folded like she was bracing herself for either praise or an autopsy report.
Vi smiled, finally, and said, “Well... aside from the burnt part, it’s actually pretty edible.”
Caitlyn beamed—like Vi had just handed her a Michelin star.
She turned back toward the stove, eyeing the chaotic scene she’d created and thinking—rather proudly—that it was all worth it.
Vi, on the other hand, was staring at the mess with a very different expression.
The countertop was dusted completely white with flour, egg shells still dripping onto the marble, melted butter pooling near the edge. A small pile of banana peels and strawberry stems sat in the corner, and the frying pan… well, it had definitely seen better days.
Caitlyn inhaled slowly, silently calculating the scale of destruction and how best to recover.
She wasn’t usually a messy person—she prided herself on order. But cooking didn’t fall into her usual set of talents, so she didn’t have a go-to strategy for post-meal chaos. No tidy 10-point checklist to fix this one.
Just as she was mentally drafting one, she felt Vi wrap her arms around her waist from behind.
Caitlyn softened immediately, her shoulders relaxing as Vi kissed her cheek and rested her chin on Caitlyn’s shoulder.
“I’m really proud of you,” Vi said, her voice low and close. “For trying to cook.”
Caitlyn smiled faintly, leaning back just a touch.
Then Vi added, with a pause that was definitely deliberate, “But maybe in the future... we cook together. You know. So I can help with the small stuff. And we avoid... this.”
Caitlyn glanced again at the disaster in front of her and chuckled, just a little nervous. She knew Vi could be particular about her kitchen—this was very much Vi’s domain, not hers.
“Yes, of course,” Caitlyn said, nodding quickly. “Next time, you’ll supervise.”
Vi ended up cooking the rest of the batter into actual pancakes. Properly this time. Then she took it upon herself to wave Caitlyn out of the kitchen entirely, claiming the space like a battlefield she needed to defend.
Caitlyn, of course, protested. “You’ve just come out of hospital, you shouldn’t be scrubbing pans.”
Vi didn’t even look up from the counter as she rinsed the whisk. “Yeah, but if you stay in here, you’ll cause more chaos than I can clean. So do us both a favour—go sit down.”
Caitlyn narrowed her eyes at the back of Vi’s head. “That’s rude.”
Vi just shrugged, clearly unbothered. “It’s also true.”
After they’d eaten and Vi had taken her meds, they spent the rest of the day mostly on the bed. Or rather, Vi did. Lounging. Barely moving. Eyes half-closed like a satisfied cat.
Caitlyn, however, could only take so much lounging before her hands itched for something to organize. So she’d got up and gone straight to business, checking her gown and Vi’s suit for the gala that evening.
She pressed her fingers along the fabric of her gown, feeling for any areas that might scratch or irritate her skin. She wasn’t allergic—just particular about texture. Some materials simply annoyed her.
Next came the accessories. jewelry. Details. She laid out their matching pieces on the dresser, carefully arranging them.
Matching details. Subtle but deliberate.
After all, no one outside of their legal circle knew they were divorced. To the public, they were still married, still a pair. And so they would carry on like that—at least until something official changed.
And now... Caitlyn wasn’t even sure it would.
They were here, in the same bed again. Trying. Reaching. Talking like people who had a real chance. And maybe—just maybe—they could pull it off.
She glanced over at Vi, half-asleep and curled on her side, then back at the rings on the dresser.
Caitlyn paused, her fingers brushing over the edge of a cufflink.
She actually thought they should cancel the divorce altogether. Start fresh from here. But Vi had insisted they see it through.
Fine. They’d get divorced. And then get married again.
If that was what Vi needed to make it feel real this time… Caitlyn could live with that.
When the time came for them to get ready, it was—well—chaotic. Just a tiny bit. Nothing dramatic, but enough to be noticed.
It was nothing like how it used to be, back when they were still together and prepping for an event meant strict order. Back then, Caitlyn handled everything. She’d have Vi’s outfit ready, shoes polished, accessories laid out in neat rows. The only thing Vi needed to do was shower, get dressed, and show up. No commentary. No complaints. Just silence and efficiency.
That... was not the case now.
Now, for every single piece of clothing, Vi had a question. For every decision Caitlyn had already made, Vi had a raised brow and a vaguely theatrical objection.
“Are you sure this one looks good on me?” Vi asked, holding the dress shirt up like it personally offended her. “This feels kinda tight.”
Caitlyn, to her credit, answered calmly. “It’s fitted. Not tight. There’s a difference.”
Vi squinted at her.
“And why these socks?” she asked next, wiggling the pair in the air like Caitlyn had handed her some ancient curse.
Caitlyn sighed—quietly—then replied, “Because they match the suit lining. And the cufflinks.”
Vi looked sceptical but didn’t argue. At least, not out loud.
Then came the jewelry.
Caitlyn had barely begun lining up the watch and ring box when Vi gave her a long look and smirked—an unmistakably mischievous glint in her eyes.
Caitlyn groaned under her breath. She knew that look. It was a look Vi had used so many times as they were growing up. A look that meant Caitlyn was going to be very annoyed, very fast. A look that tells Caitlyn, that Vi was about to be a menace.
Caitlyn braced herself.
Vi reached out, casually plucked up Caitlyn’s engagement ring and wedding band like she was selecting a biscuit from a tray.
Then she grinned. “You really wanna wear these old rings?”
Caitlyn looked at her, unimpressed.
“They’re not even that pretty anymore,” Vi added. “They need to be cleaned. Maybe replaced. Honestly, they look a bit... outdated.”
Caitlyn groaned louder this time, turning to fully face her.
“I don’t care,” she said flatly. “I like them. I’m wearing them. If you don’t like your ring, feel free to toss it in the bin for all I care.”
Vi grinned wider, clearly pleased with herself at getting a rise out of her ex-wife.
She didn’t toss the rings, of course. Instead, she started fidgeting with both rings, pretending to do a little sleight of hand trick, flipping them between her fingers like she was performing for an invisible audience.
Caitlyn stared at her, deadpan.
Vi winked and made the rings “disappear” behind her hand.
Caitlyn inhaled sharply, visibly restraining herself.
She was this close.
She sighed—rather loudly, at that—and gave Vi a sharp look.
"Give me my rings back before I take out a rifle and shoot you," Caitlyn said, deadpan. "Make myself a widow before the divorce even pushes through."
Vi burst out laughing, unbothered as ever. “Ruthless,” she said, still grinning.
Then, slowly—far more theatrically than necessary—Vi walked toward her, taking Caitlyn’s hand with an exaggerated sense of ceremony.
With one final smirk, she dropped to one knee.
Caitlyn arched an eyebrow but didn’t move.
Vi carefully slid the engagement ring onto her finger first, her tone shifting into something soft, less teasing.
“When I bought this,” Vi said quietly, “I wanted something you’d like. Something you wouldn’t get tired of looking at.”
She paused, glancing up at Caitlyn’s face.
“Because I wanted… every time you looked at it, you’d think of me.”
Caitlyn’s mouth curved, just slightly. Her expression softened. The smile wasn’t wide, but it was real.
Vi stood up then, still holding her hand. She reached for the second ring and slipped it over the first, letting it settle naturally into place.
“One day,” Vi said, voice even lower now, “when we’re better people… when we’ve figured out what went wrong, and actually fix it—slowly, however long it takes—”
She looked up at Caitlyn again, eyes steady.
“I’ll marry you again,” she finished. “With these same rings. Because even if we’re not married anymore… I still feel the same way I did when we were.”
Caitlyn pulled her hand away slowly, her eyes fixed on the rings now resting on her finger. She hadn’t worn them since Vi left more than a month ago. Her hand had felt bare then, wrong somehow, and she remembered how often she caught herself glancing at the empty space, her fingers twitching without meaning to, fidgeting like something was missing.
She wondered if it was the same for Vi. If Vi ever looked at her own hand and felt that absence.
Quietly, Caitlyn reached for Vi’s ring on the dresser. She held it for a second, her thumb brushing over the metal, then turned to Vi.
Just as Vi had done moments before, Caitlyn took Vi’s hand in hers, turning it slightly. She slipped the wedding band back onto Vi’s finger—slowly, gently—where it had always belonged.
Her voice came out soft.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For wasting the first five years of our marriage.”
Vi’s eyes flicked up, but she said nothing.
“I wasn’t the wife you needed,” Caitlyn continued. “Not the one you wanted. I wasn’t honest with my feelings. I didn’t try hard enough.”
She paused, then smiled—small, but steady.
“One day, we’ll get married again,” she said, her fingers still curled lightly around Vi’s. “When all the wrongs are right. When the good gets even better.”
Her voice dropped just slightly, warmer now.
“But before we do that... I promise I’ll be more honest. I’ll learn how you want to be loved—how you need to be loved. I’ll learn how to be your friend.”
She gave a small, breathy laugh. “And maybe next, I can be your girlfriend... and then your wife.”
Without letting go of Vi’s hand, Caitlyn leaned forward and kissed her—soft, steady, lingering just long enough for Vi to slide her arms around her and pull her close.
When they finally parted, Caitlyn stayed close, resting her forehead gently against Vi’s lips.
“We’ll do better this time,” she whispered. “I’ll love you better. I’ll hold you longer. And this time... we won’t end.”