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Chapter Text

[Monday]

Vi leaned against the faded brick wall and took a long drag from her cigarette. The wall was practically holding her up at this point in her shift. Her muscles were overused and her eyes were red and strained from the smoke of the endless sautéing in the kitchen.

She checked her watch and sighed. Only a half hour left of her shift after break, then she could drag her nearly dead carcass onto the train and head home for the day to hop in the shower and scrub the layers of grease and sweat off of herself.

After a few more drags of her cigarette, the little watch chirped a cheerful—beep, beep! beep, beep!—that contrasted starkly with Vi’s current temperament. With that, her smoke break was over, and she flicked the remainder of the cigarette onto the ground, stomping it to its premature death against the cracked black asphalt.

With enormous effort, she pushed off of the wall and swung the creaky metal door next to her open, stepping back into the heat and haze of the kitchen. Luckily, the dinner rush had died down, and the only patrons left at the Last Drop were mostly here to drink and talk. There would likely only be a few more errant food orders, which would allow the kitchen staff to finally exhale as they slid towards closing.

Powder shoved the swinging door from the bar area into the kitchen, not even noticing as it smashed into the door stop and caused everyone else inside of the kitchen to flinch.

“Vi, delivery order, the usual.” Powder announced with an apathetic tone, having done this a billion times.

Vi felt the same, only taking the little printed sheet with the order details as a formality. Without even reading it, Vi could already tell anyone what the ink on that paper would be about as well as she could describe the ink tattooed across her own skin.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for the last two years have been the same. Grilled salmon salad on Monday, roasted butternut squash risotto on Wednesday, kale and pesto flatbread pizza on Friday.

Always delivery, always called-in promptly at 8:00 pm. Always delivered to a certain Lyn Kira.

The Last Drop had its fair share of regulars, but they were mostly older characters from around Zaun, acquaintances of Vander who had been coming around since before Vander had hair on his chin.

They very rarely had any delivery orders, their designated delivery driver—Mylo—typically just hung around and helped the front of house between handling orders through the to-go station. On the rare occasion that they did get a delivery, Powder would wait tables and cover to-go while Mylo drove the food out.

Vi and Ekko never saw the light of day, simultaneously too curt with customers and too good with their hands to be anywhere but on the line cooking. Clagg was also in the back, bussing dishes and accepting deliveries from their vendors when scheduled.

Vi cracked her knuckles and went to work grilling the salmon, able to put this order together in her sleep now if she so pleased. She oftentimes wondered about the extremely loyal mystery patron. Mylo used to complain about her constantly since he had to drive all the way over to Piltover for this particular order—this being the only customer that they had across the bridge. He finally stopped complaining a few months back when the swanky condo building that the customer lived in got a new receptionist that he developed a huge crush on. Now, he rushed over three days a week just to fumble through a clumsy hello every time he dropped the food off at the desk with Gert.

Knowing which condo building that Mylo delivers to, Vi figured that the patron had some serious cash lying around. No one was staying in that building living paycheck to paycheck. And with a name like Lyn, that kind of checked out. It was probably some old woman, living lavish in retirement and deeply rooted in her daily routine, as older folks tended to be. Why else would she order the same three meals from the same restaurant for two years straight?

Nothing wrong with a little consistency though, Vi supposed. She chuckled as she transferred the piping hot grilled salmon onto the top of the salad in the to-go box. She had a habit of heating it up a smidge higher than she would for dine-in serving, knowing that Mylo would have to drive twenty minutes to get to the condo building, and Vi wanted the older woman to have a nice, hot meal by the time it arrived.

Vi uncapped a sharpie with her teeth and scrawled ‘Lyn’ across the top of the to-go box and prepared to walk it out to the to-go station to hand off the package to Mylo. But, for some reason, Vi hesitated a moment longer, and quickly added beneath the name, ‘Enjoy! :)’ Hoping that it would make a lonely little retiree with a dinner for one smile.

Caitlyn dragged her feet through the threshold of her condo, dropped the keys in her little dish on the credenza by the door, and flopped onto her large, pillowy, cream-colored couch. She threw an arm over her eyes and groaned loudly.

To say that today had been draining would be the understatement of the century. Her boss, Marcus, had been piling on project after project. Caitlyn continued to accept, in an attempt to prove her ability to keep up with the workload around the architecture firm, just like everyone else. Except—everyone else had two projects, and as of today, Caitlyn had five. All five of her clients were in various stages of development. The only thing keeping her sane was her binder, her holy grail. The source of truth in the storm of chaos that was juggling so many major clients for the firm at the same time. It was a thick, monstrous thing, color coded and tabbed for each project, containing everything she could ever need to reference: client correspondence, building codes, structural engineering regulations, initial drafts, design amendments, and the list went on.

It was meticulously kept. Caitlyn never cut corners or skipped a step when it came to the binder. It was her north star at work, the only thing that allowed her to survive this hailstorm. When Marcus had assigned her yet another project today, despite Caitlyn already being on four others, she accepted through gritted teeth, unable to tell if Marcus was being sincere or sarcastic when he sent her out of his office with a ‘Good luck’ and a wave.

Caitlyn had a sinking suspicion that he didn’t like her for some reason, but she couldn’t quite work out why. She was a hard worker, more so than most of her coworkers, and she’d never shown him anything but respect. Or at least she thought. Sometimes she had a hard time realizing when she’d crossed a line socially, or accidentally offended someone. It was entirely possible that she’d done something to upset him in the past and didn’t realize it at the time. It wouldn’t be the first time. Caitlyn had long since accepted that doing damage control with her peers and coworkers was simply something she would always have to engage in, regardless of if she knew exactly why she was doing it.

Despite her exhaustion, if she wanted to be ready for the meeting with her newest client in two days, she would need to start drafting tonight. She sighed and rolled her chair up to her drafting desk, a large light wood desktop that could be positioned on an angle, better suited than regular flat desks for drawing.

She switched on her lamp and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, getting to work. This was always her favorite part. The precise lines. Measuring. Inking. Watching as the diagram that she could envision so clearly in her head bled out through the pen in her hands and came to life. How she could simply sit down and continue to apply herself until a blank canvas became a detailed design that had weight and meaning. She could always get lost in this part.

So lost that she would forget that there was more to life than drafting. There were other pesky necesites. Like drinking water. Eating food. Relieving herself in the restroom. It always took neglecting one of these requirements for far too long—her body screaming alarm bells at her before she noticed that it was overdue some sort of maintenance. How annoying.

Every one of Caitlyn’s instincts would tell her to ignore the sensation until she came to a better stopping point in her work, but she was old enough now to know how that rarely ended well for her. She would just keep pushing the checkpoint further and further until she found herself in a desperate state, rushing to solve whichever issue had become downright critical.

For those exact reasons, her friends worried about her constantly. After watching her forget to eat dinner several days in a row when she first started at the firm, Jayce and Mel had made her promise to set an alarm for all of the nights of the work week that they weren’t eating together. Her friends came over on Tuesday and Thursday nights with Mel’s home cooked meals and forced Caitlyn to set an 8:00 pm alarm for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. If she hadn’t already eaten by the time the alarm went off—which was almost always the case—she had to drop everything she was doing and find something to eat.

Two years ago, when they first instated this policy, Caitlyn huffed out in frustration that Monday night when the irritating dinner alarm interrupted her work. She searched ‘dinner’ and ‘delivery’ on her map application and chose the highest rated option she saw. It ended up being a small pub on the other side of the bridge. The menu for the pub looked inexplicably more upscale than the actual pub itself. The place only had 43 reviews, but pretty much all of them were 5-stars. Seemed promising enough.

When the food arrived, Caitlyn had been pleasantly surprised with the option she chose, a grilled salmon salad. It had been fulfilling, delicious, and efficiently delivered to her building’s reception desk (thank gods for contactless delivery). When Wednesday rolled around, Caitlyn found herself in the same scenario, and this time she tried the establishment’s risotto which was also surprisingly tasty. By Friday, there was little room for uncertainty as to where she would order from, and she got the roasted kale and pesto flatbread pizza, which was another hit.

Caitlyn noted with much pleasure, that whoever was working in the kitchen at this establishment was wonderfully consistent, always delivering the same flavor, texture, and portion size that Caitlyn had received the first time. They quickly became her comfort meals, just another step in her daily routine, set into stone. And every time they delivered the same quality in the same style. Caitlyn adored the consistency.

Today, same as every Monday, Caitlyn got a call from the front desk at 8:35 pm that a delivery was waiting for her at reception. She went down to retrieve it, curtly thanking Gert, and brought the food back up to her apartment. Sitting down on her couch and pulling the takeout box from the bag, she paused for a moment. Something was different today—an extra note was written right under her usual pseudonym, the one that she used in her day-to-day life when she didn’t want people to know that they were interacting with the Caitlyn Kiramman. It was an uninspired, but functional shortening of her name: Lyn Kira.

Underneath, in the usual handwriting of whoever prepared her meals, was a little note with a smiley face: Enjoy! :)

Caitlyn smiled at the box. It was an incredibly simple note, but still a totally unprompted kind gesture. With how shitty her day had been, it was nice to think that someone—even if just for a split second—was hoping that she had a bright spot in her day. And now, with the delicious food and the pleasant little note, that was certainly true. Caitlyn ate her salad through a small smile that night.

[Wednesday]

Vi’s shift today was the same as all of the others. She slogged through the dinner rush as orders rapid fired from the front and Powder dashed in and out of the kitchen to clip new order sheets to Vi’s line.

They managed to finish everything in a timely fashion, and Vi got to take her smoke break while Ekko covered the line. She returned at 8:05 pm and practically waited by the door for Powder to bust in again with her trusty delivery order. Like clockwork, she did, and Vi accepted the sheet of paper unceremoniously as she walked back to her station. She almost balled it up and threw it away without even looking, already knowing what it would say—the same as it always did. But Vi did a double take when she noticed a bit more text than usual.

Lyn had added a note into the special instructions box, usually reserved for allergy notifications and small adjustments.

I always enjoy your food. Thank you. :)

A grin cut across Vi’s face, realizing that Lyn was responding to the little note on the box that she wrote. It was small, but it felt really nice to be appreciated. A line cook for a small bar wasn’t exactly a position where you received a lot of words of affirmation. Vi only knew she was doing a good job when she didn’t get dishes sent back or didn’t hear patrons complaining loudly in the other room.

So, to have somebody go through a tiny bit of extra effort to show Vi that they appreciated her cooking, it was really nice.

Vi decided then and there that Lyn was her favorite customer. Today she made the usual, but this time snuck one of the Last Drop‘s only desserts—a cacao nib brownie that Vi makes a batch of at the beginning of the day and typically reheats for any dine in customers who order it—into the to-go bag.

Grabbing her sharpie, Vi wrote ‘Lyn’ on the top of the box and added another short note:

A treat, cause you’re so sweet.

A cute thank you for the note in the special instructions. Vi hoped that the little old lady enjoyed sweets. Most people do. Couldn’t go wrong with a bit of chocolate. And the brownie was quite good if Vi said so herself.

It ought to be though, considering Vi had just completed culinary school at the top of her class a few months ago. So how does a certified culinary chef end up making minimum wage as a line cook at her dad’s bar? Easy—Vi was broke. Paying for culinary school had cleared her out, and she was desperate for a job after she graduated. The options when she graduated were between a rock and a hard place. She could take a position in Zaun that way underpaid based on how qualified she was, but allow her some creative freedoms; or accept one of the positions in Piltover which definitely paid her worth, but came with a suffocating environment that left her no space to explore as a new chef.

Neither option was ideal, but Vi knew that the former would wither her soul slightly less than the latter. And she figured that if she was going to be grievously underpaid and thoroughly taken advantage of by anyone, it might as well be by her own family. That’s how she became the most overqualified line cook in the city.

It wasn’t all bad though. Vander let her completely overhaul the menu, swapping chicken tenders and onion rings for more sophisticated dishes that Vi had created and wanted to beta test.

Ideally, one day, she’d open her own restaurant and show off her dishes there. But that cost money—lots of it. And Vi barely had enough to cover her rent, so she simply sighed and packed up the delivery order in a bag, walking it out to the front.

Mylo took the bag and rushed out the front door of the bar, already itching to see Gert.

8:35 pm hit and Gert ringed Caitlyn. The architect rushed down to the lobby a little quicker than usual to grab her food and quickly ran it back up to her empty apartment. It seemed a little silly, but Caitlyn wondered if the chef had seen her message in the special instructions on her order. Caitlyn wanted to know if a response would be written on the box today. She hesitated for a moment after she untied the bag handles, unsure how she would react if there was simply just a ’Lyn’ written on top with no additional text. Even just the thought of that scenario made her heart a little heavy with disappointment.

Taking a quick breath and trying to convince herself that it wouldn’t matter if that was the case, Caitlyn reached in and grabbed the box.

She felt a smile stretch across her lips as she read the extra text below her pseudonym.

A treat?

She looked in the bag again and noticed that there was something extra in the bottom of the bag. Taking the smaller paper bag out and glancing inside, she saw a brownie. Her smile got even wider. She double checked the receipt. They hadn’t even charged her for it. The chef had simply slipped it in, but definitely not by accident given the message on the box.

Caitlyn ate her dinner feeling even more chipper than she had on Monday.

[Thursday]

The next morning, Caitlyn woke up early and got dressed in grey slacks and a white long sleeved blouse. It was an unusual day today, and the interruption to her weekly routine was a bit annoying but not entirely unwelcome given that it was due to a celebration.

One of her clients was finally unveiling the building that she had practically designed by herself, with only a little assistance on some minor details from a few others at the firm. Caitlyn would get to stand in front with the owners while they cut the red tape. It was going to be a whole event, with press and all of the works. This building had been highly anticipated by the local community since it was not only office space but also hosted a ground floor with a spacious food court that was open, and actively encouraged to be used by the general public.

Caitlyn stood proudly, if not a little stiffly, as they snapped a series of photographs of her and the owners right as they snipped the red ribbon with comically large bronze scissors. The small audience of the grand opening burst out into applause, and Caitlyn allowed herself a brief moment to bask in the achievement.

“You ought to be proud of yourself. You’re the architect, correct?” A woman with a bright orange bob and a heavy accent appeared next to Caitlyn.

“Yes, that’s correct. Thank you.”

“Can my colleague take another photograph with just you? I work for the Piltovian Press and need a few images for my article.”

“Sure.” Caitlyn nodded.

The woman’s colleague, an almost eerily quiet young man with a slender face, backed into position and adjusted the focus on his camera, snapping several more pictures of only Caitlyn. He then briefly checked the shots in his camera and gave a curt nod before taking his leave. The woman reapproached Caitlyn after he disappeared back into the crowd.

“It’s a beautiful building…only rivaled by the beauty of the architect herself.” The reporter’s gaze shifted from the building to Caitlyn, eyes maintaining the same adoration throughout the transition. As if Caitlyn was also some stunning structure, towering and fetching by design.

Caitlyn hadn’t expected such outright flattery, but she did appreciate the directness to some degree. There was no mistaking that the woman was flirting.

“Oh, thank you.”

“I would love to hear more about your job, or just you in general. Would you be interested in grabbing dinner tomorrow?” The reporter offered hopefully.

Well, then. Straight to the point.

Caitlyn’s knee jerk reaction was to politely decline. She had more work to do tomorrow night, and she already had plans to order her flatbread from her favorite bar. Trying to schedule a date into that time would inevitably force her to sacrifice one of those things.

“I need to work tomorrow night.” Caitlyn responded earnestly.

“Ah, no worries. Well if you change your mind, give me a call.” The woman handed her a business card.

Maddie Nolen

With her phone number and work email printed beneath her name. Caitlyn gave a polite nod and tucked the card into her pocket, probably never to be used.

“YOU WHAT?!” Mel exclaimed.

“Cait…” Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t see what the issue is.” Caitlyn shrugged apathetically, digging her chopsticks into her pineapple fried rice.

“A cute girl practically throws herself at you, and you tell her that you need to work?!” Mel asked incredulously.

“But I do need to work.”

“You always need to work, Cait.” Jayce pointed out with an exasperated tone. “When are you going to find the time to do anything else?”

Caitlyn huffed in annoyance, but couldn’t quite find a counterpoint. It had been ages since she went on a proper date. Work at the firm had kept her so busy during the weekdays that she couldn’t dream of scheduling a date, and she mostly spent the weekend recovering from the grueling work week. It was a rough cycle that left very little time or energy for romance.

“I don’t have time for something serious,” Caitlyn gumbled.

Mel waved her hand dismissively.

“If you like the person you’ll make the time,” Mel assured. “What’s the harm in one date?”

Caitlyn considered this silently for a moment. Maybe Mel was right. How bad could one date be? Perhaps she should give Maddie a chance.

After they finished dinner and her friends went home, Caitlyn texted the number from the business card:

Still available for that dinner tomorrow?

[Friday]

Caitlyn was trying her hardest not to regret her decisions immediately. She waited outside of the restaurant that Maddie sent her, which was bustling with the growing buzz of a Friday night in downtown Piltover. For most of the patrons here tonight, this restaurant would be the first stop of many as the night descended into drinking and clubbing hours.

Groaning to herself, Caitlyn only hoped that this evening would go smoothly. She intended on giving Maddie a chance, then heading home before it got too late so that she could get a little work done before the exhaustion of the week really caught up to her. Once she hit that wall, she would have no choice but to fully succumb to the weekend.

“Cait!” A bubbly voice called from slightly down the sidewalk.

Caitlyn gave Maddie a small wave, and when they reached each other Maddie pulled her in for a full frontal, two armed hug. It caught Caitlyn off guard; she felt a little overwhelmed by the sudden contact and the overpowering rush of way too much vanilla scented perfume, but she still managed to somewhat return the hug.

“Let’s head in!” Maddie grabbed her hand and pulled her into the restaurant’s front door, walking over to join the line to the host stand.

Glancing around, Caitlyn stifled a small sigh. She knew this type of place—all white tablecloths and flickering candlelight. An environment designed to impress, and likely striving to set a romantic tone. They would probably be led to their table, reservation only, of course. The menu would be prix fixe, not à la carte. The waiter would take their enjoyment of the night extremely personally. Caitlyn had been to a thousand restaurants like this with her parents.

When it was their turn, Maddie gave her name for the reservation, and they were led to a cozy corner booth which was way too large for two people, but slightly off of the main dining area so Caitlyn wasn’t complaining. Caitlyn slid into the luxurious forest green leather cushions, and Maddie followed quickly behind, scooching in a little closer than necessary.

“I’m so glad you decided to change your mind,” Maddie brushed Caitlyn’s hand with a featherlight touch.

Caitlyn fought down a shudder. She much preferred firm contact but didn’t want to get into that whole discussion at the moment, so instead just gave a small smile and used picking up the menu as an excuse to move her hand elsewhere.

They chatted cordially about their work, and Caitlyn learned about how volatile journalism could be. Caitlyn did gain some respect for Maddie, hearing that she was also passionate about her job and admittedly rather skilled at breaking a story.

As predicted, the food came out in predetermined courses, each one delicately presented but leaving Caitlyn lacking a bit in flavor and portion size. Typical of a restaurant like this.

Absentmindedly, Caitlyn found herself thinking about her kale and pesto flatbread—and became even more remiss at the thought of being unable to thank the chef in her special instructions today for the delicious brownie that she had so enjoyed. She descended into even more remorse when she realized that she would not receive whatever little note that the chef would’ve written back to her on the takeout box tonight.

Maddie broke through Caitlyn’s zoning out as the waiter cleared the final course before the dessert. “Apparently the creme brûlée here is supposed to be legendary. One of my coworkers reported on it at the restaurant's opening.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Caitlyn wasn’t, but she knew what was expected of her to say in this scenario. She didn’t like the texture of the caramelized sugar crust on creme brûlée. And she had tried the best of the best with her parents in the tiny Demacian bistro that practically invented the dessert, so it wasn't just a skill issue.

The waiter brought out what Caitlyn could admit was a technically well executed creme brûlée, and Maddie dug in. Caitlyn did so a little less enthusiastically, mostly just fishing out conservative scoops of custard underneath the shell to give the impression that she was participating.

Maddie began to ask more personal questions about her parents and her upbringing. This somewhat piqued Caitlyn’s interest. Maddie must not have grown up in Piltover. Pretty much everyone in Piltover, especially those in a certain tax bracket, knows everything there is to know about the Kirammans after decades of relentless press coverage of the wealthy family. Caitlyn had struggled to maintain any semblance of privacy growing up as a very popular senator's daughter and the heir to a substantial sum of familial wealth.

Things had only gotten worse recently after her mother’s name had entered discussions for potentially being tapped for even higher political office. While Caitlyn was proud of her, she hated how much it affected her personal life. So, it was a breath of fresh air to meet a woman who was completely unfamiliar with her family. She relaxed a little bit more into the conversation as she and Maddie traded stories about their childhoods.

As the dinner wrapped up and the remaining plates were cleared, Maddie gave her a particular look that Caitlyn couldn’t quite read.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to end the night yet. How about a night cap?”

Caitlyn really shouldn’t. She needed to work. And it was getting late; all the bars downtown were going to start to enter pregame territory for the nightclubs in the area. The last place Caitlyn wanted to be was in some crowded bar yelling at a bartender alongside six pushy finance workers.

“The bars around here are going to start to get crowded soon. I would prefer not to get caught up in that,” Caitlyn stated plainly.

Maddie’s eyes glinted even more. “How about we go back to one of our places then? I would offer mine, but I’m on the outskirts of the city.”

Suppose that only left Caitlyn. She didn’t want to offer her place, but the implication of what Maddie wanted was obvious even to Caitlyn. She wondered how rude it would be to politely decline right now. Mel and Jayce often teased her on how blunt she could be when she wasn’t interested in a suggestion. Perhaps she could host Maddie for one drink and gently remind her afterwards that she had some work to do.

So that’s what they did, taking a town car back to Caitlyn’s condo. Inside, Caitlyn put together two whiskey sours and handed a glass to Maddie.

Maddie took a sip and whistled lowly as she wandered around Caitlyn’s living room.

“Impressive.”

“It’s sufficient.”

“So, are you close with your mother?” Maddie asked suddenly.

“I’m sorry?” Caitlyn blinked in surprise.

“How would you say your relationship with your mother is? Are you close?”

“It depends on your definition of close. But generally yes, I suppose.”

Maddie hummed thoughtfully, still walking around the room. She set the whiskey sour down, and turned to Caitlyn, rubbing her arms.

“I just got a bit chilly, is there any way I could borrow some sleeves?”

Caitlyn hated the idea of that vanilla perfume rubbing off all over one of her sweaters but didn’t know how to verbalize that without sounding too harsh.

“Uh—sure. Wait here a moment.”

Walking down the hall, Caitlyn entered into her bedroom and flicked the light on for her massive walk-in closet. She dug around in the back for her least favorite jumper, an old one that was slightly too small for her now. She grabbed it and went back towards the living room. Before she crossed the threshold of the doorway out of her bedroom, she paused for a moment, tilting her head as she heard some very intent rustling coming from her living room.

Caitlyn silently crossed down the hall and peeked around the corner to see Maddie hunched over her desk, digging through a stack of papers.

What the hell?

“Excuse me.” Caitlyn’s voice cut coldly through the air.

Maddie whipped up, turning around and hiding something behind her back.

Caitlyn’s eyes followed the motion. “What is that?”

“Caitlyn! I was—”

“What is that?” Caitlyn repeated slowly. “Behind your back.”

Caitlyn crossed the room in three strides with those long determined legs.

“I can explain!”

Caitlyn reached around the other woman to grasp onto a small notebook. She ignored the protests from Maddie as she took it from Maddie’s hands. Caitlyn’s eyes darted around the notes scrawled on the open page.

“You can’t be serious…” Caitlyn muttered to herself as the nature of the situation dawned on her.

There were a few lines of notes scrawled on the page:

Cassandra Kiramman - funding?

Close with Medardas

Caitlyn & Mel meet regularly

Ties to Noxus? -> effects on foreign aid policy?

“You need to leave.”

Vi and Ekko traded a cigarette back and forth In the back alley behind the restaurant. This Friday was uncharacteristically slow, allowing them to take a rare break together. Vi was already thinking of her couch back at home, curling up with a warm meal and putting on the most easy going television series she could find.

She gave Ekko a little fist bump and started to head back into the kitchen. It was just about time for Lyn’s flatbread pizza order.

Returning to her station, Vi slapped the dough down and spread it out, brushing on their house made pesto and sprinkling bits of fresh mozzarella around. She brainstormed what her note should be today as she finished up the flatbread and stuck it in their pizza oven. Perhaps a simple ‘Happy Friday’? Or maybe a ‘Have a nice night!’

Vi landed somewhere in between, writing ‘Have a good weekend!’ underneath Lyn’s name. She grabbed the takeout box and went out to the to-go stand.

“Yo Mylo, got Lyn’s order.” Vi called out to her brother as she approached.

“Huh?”

“Flatbread, dude—c'mon, we do this every week.”

Mylo rolled his eyes. “Yeah but we didn’t get any delivery orders today, genius.”

“Wait what?” Vi only just now realized she’d started making the order out of sheer habit.

Powder nodded from the host stand. “Never thought I’d see the day, but Mylo’s right. Nothing from Lyn today.”

“But Lyn always orders the flatbread on Friday.” Vi contested.

Powder only shrugged. “You can eat it if you want.”

“Are you sure the website isn’t down or something? Maybe she couldn’t place her order.”

Powder sighed, exasperated. “The website’s fine, Vi! Plus, the phone works just as well, she could’ve called if she wanted. She probably just had something else today, alright?”

Vi knew her siblings were looking at her like she’d lost her mind. There was no reason for her to be arguing with them over an order that wasn’t placed. She should just accept the win, head home early, and eat the flatbread herself. But she knew Lyn—as much as a chef can know their favorite anonymous customer. She would never miss an order.

What if something was wrong? What if she lived alone and she needed help? What if she’d fallen and couldn’t get up?

Vi felt a panic rising in her chest.

“Come on, Mylo, I already made it. You might as well go drop it off.” Vi attempted to sound confident in her reasoning, but it came out sounding weak even to her own ears.

Mylo made a sound between a laugh and a scoff. “Are you nuts? I’m not driving to Piltover tonight to deliver food that no one asked for! Plus, Gert is on vacation this week. There is zero reason for me to be there.”

Vi pushed a hand through her hair, huffing in frustration. “Fine, I’ll do it myself. Ekko can handle the rest of the night by himself. It’s pretty slow.”

Mylo and Powder shared a look, raising their eyebrows at each other like Vi had gone off the deep end.

“I know it sounds dumb but I just want to make sure everything’s fine, ok?” Vi grumbled and pushed past them.

The drive didn’t help her anxiety, she kept coming up with more scenarios of what could’ve gone wrong, imagining a thousand tiny dangers for a little old woman living by herself. She stepped onto the gas a little more as she drove to the address with the food in the passenger seat.

Vi parked on a nearby side street and walked tentatively into the lobby. There was no one at reception, which made sense considering Gert was out for the week. Vi checked the address again and thanked the gods that the suite number had been specified.

516

She headed towards the elevator with the food in tow, feeling a little insane for committing this hard to a random side quest. Still though, in the worst case scenario, Lyn wasn’t home or she was and would get a little extra food that she could heat up tomorrow. And it would put Vi’s mind at ease. Taking a quick stop to check in before going home was a small price to pay for peace of mind.

Vi drummed the fingers of her free hand nervously on the side of her thigh as the elevator dinged and opened its doors to the fifth floor. Vi walked out and followed the signs to 516. Stopping in front of the large mahogany door, she checked and double checked the address and the number on the door in gold plating.

This was it. Feeling suddenly anxious, afraid of having drastically overstepped, Vi hesitated with her fist hovering just above the wood of the door. Then, the memory of a few friendly notes passed between her and Lyn flashed in her mind, and she was certain that Lyn wouldn’t take this check-in the wrong way. She may even appreciate the company.

Vi knocked firmly on the door.

Waited a few moments—there was no response.

Vi knocked again, a little louder.

This time she heard shuffling behind the door, along with some muffled voices. Her heart jumped up to her throat. The door swung open.

Standing in the door frame, looking pissed and devastatingly beautiful, was a tall woman with midnight blue hair. Vi swallowed hard.

Did she knock on the wrong door? No, she’d double checked that it matched the address they’d been sending food to this whole time.

Perhaps this supermodel of a woman was Lyn’s niece, or a young cousin. Vi could just explain the situation about the food and get out of their hair.

The woman’s piercing blue eyes darted around, taking Vi in with some mixture of agitation and intrigue. Her gaze landed on the bag of food suspended in Vi’s hand.

“Is—uhm” Vi cleared her throat after the words came out far too softly—“is Lyn here?”

The gorgeous woman tilted her head curiously.

“Who is it?” A voice bit out with irritation from inside of the condo.

“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?” Vi blinked several times, suddenly feeling quite shy and fairly embarrassed about her presence here. She had certainly overstepped.

“No. She was just leaving.” The woman called over her shoulder, more to whomever was still inside than Vi.

“Wait here.” The woman commanded before turning around on her heels and heading back into the living room, leaving the door wide open.

Okay?

This night just kept getting stranger, Vi thought.

“I said you need to leave!”

“Please, it isn’t what it looked like. I only want to talk!”

Vi shifted her weight between her legs awkwardly as the argument raged on inside the condo. Should she leave? The stunningly attractive woman had distinctly told her to wait. But this was…not the situation she was expecting. Where was Lyn?

“I am finished talking to you, Maddie. You are way out of line, and I want you to go.”

“Please if only I could—“

Vi had heard enough. She stepped into the condo to see the scene unfolding for herself. The beautiful woman was standing in one corner, arms folded over her chest and frowning at the guest who had clearly overstayed her welcome.

“Listen, lady.” Vi interjected. “I don’t know who you are but this woman has made it pretty clear that it’s time for you to leave.”

Maddie scoffed.

Vi ignored her and continued. “She’s already asked very nicely twice, and for some reason you’re still here. I would hate to have to ask you myself, because I’m a lot less nice.” Vi let the implication of the words sink in. Not quite a threat, but definitely a prickly warning.

The orange haired woman sized her up, eyes raking over her bulging biceps and the tattoos snaking around her neck and arms.

Yeah. Not the one to try it with.

The girl—Maddie—came to the same conclusion. She shot one last glance at the dark haired woman and stormed out of the condo, slamming the door behind her. The woman followed soon after and threw the lock.

“Good riddance,” Vi heard her mutter beneath her breath as she walked back into the living room.

And then there were two.

Vi looked around awkwardly, seriously not knowing how the hell she ended up in this bizarre situation.

Vi tried to cut the tension. “Uhhh. Nice place?”

“Who are you, and why are you here?” The woman cut straight to the point with a sharp tone and an even sharper look.

“My name is Vi, I work at the Last Drop. I’m here to check on Lyn.” Vi raised the bag of food in her hand. “She always orders her flatbread on Friday. It didn’t come through and I got a little worried, wanted to drop by and make sure everything was ok.”

“You’re here because Lyn missed an order?” Her voice was laced with a cautious curiosity.

“Yes?” Vi returned uncertainly.

“I am Lyn.”

Vi’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. This six foot goddess was Lyn?!

“But, no that’s—that can’t—“ Vi stuttered. “Lyn is an old lady name!”

The woman tilted her head again, a little amused. “Is it?”

“Not to say that you are! Old—that is. I’m sure we’re around the same age. And Lyn is a beautiful name, I think you will really grow into it in a few decades!”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! I suppose every Lyn was young at some point.” Vi rambled on. “I think it’s just a bit hard for me, to think of anyone looking at a baby and thinking to themselves: she looks like a Lyn.”

“Right.” The woman added coolly, through a wide smile.

“Gods, I’m going to stop talking now.” Vi huffed out and clamped her mouth shut.

“Did the chef from the restaurant send you?”

“Oh yeah, well it’s me. I sent myself. I was worried that you were a little old lady who lived alone and something had happened, like a bad fall and a broken hip or something.”

The woman—Lyn—became thoughtful at that. “That’s actually very chivalrous.”

“It’s no big deal…” Vi scratched at the back of her neck. “Are you hungry?” She lifted the bag again.

Lyn sighed. “I wish. The reason I didn’t order dinner today was because I was on a date with that maniac that we just threw out of my flat.”

Oh. Ohhhhhh.

“Oh.” Vi felt…incredibly stupid. She really shouldn’t be here. “I’m really sorry for interrupting your evening. I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Are you hungry?” Lyn returned the question.

“Huh?” Vi heard her perfectly fine but for some reason couldn’t process the information fast enough.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No, not yet. I was on my way home after this.”

“Please, have a seat, I insist. I will have a slice of the flatbread, since it is my favorite after all. You can have the rest.”

“I really shouldn’t intrude.”

“Who said you were intruding?” Lyn asked genuinely.

“I guess just me.”

“Precisely,” she chuckled. “Please, you came all this way. At least sit and eat.”

Caitlyn watched as the tattooed chef, still a bit hesitant, weighed the options in her head. In the end, she decided to concede, sitting down on Caitlyn’s couch and starting to unpack the take out box out onto the coffee table.

Despite the strange circumstances that led them here, Caitlyn was actually quite pleased to finally meet with the chef who had been preparing her comfort foods for the last two years. She hadn’t even realized just how much she’d thought about the mystery chef, especially in the last week, after they had exchanged notes. It was oddly cathartic to finally put a face and name to the chef.

And admittedly, said face was…incredibly attractive. If the whole culinary thing didn’t pan out for Vi, Caitlyn was certain she could have a bright future modeling if she had any interest. That isn’t the reason Caitlyn invited her to stay, she was simply appreciative of Vi’s thoughtfulness, checking in on Caitlyn when she really did not have to. Caitlyn would feel bad turning her around and immediately sending her back out into the cold (or at least that was what Caitlyn was telling herself).

Rounding the couch to sit on the other end, Caitlyn paused a moment to smile at the message on top of the box.

“Why did you start writing notes on the box?” Caitlyn inquired a little quietly.

“Oh. I don’t know.” A faint blush spread across Vi’s face, which Caitlyn was now close enough to see had a dusting of freckles. “I guess I just wanted you to know that someone was thinking of you, even if just in a small way.”

With that, Vi popped open the box and slid it midway between them on the coffee table, neglecting to notice that Caitlyn now had a blush of her own raging across her cheeks.

Vi tore into the pizza with vigor, surprising Caitlyn with the amount of energy that she was using to attack the food. Normally, Caitlyn might’ve found it off-putting with anyone else, but with Vi? It was oddly endearing.

“So…long day?” Vi asked behind her fist and through a mouthful of food.

Caitlyn sighed. “You could certainly say that. I had a hellish day at work and a disastrous date to top it off.”

“Ah, so no second date then?” Vi had finished chewing her food and sent Caitlyn a little smirk.

“Certainly not.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Vi asked, surprisingly sincere, the humor melting away in favor of genuine concern.

For a moment, Caitlyn hesitated. She usually wasn’t one to spill her guts to a stranger. Normally, she would’ve passed on the offer, or given a painfully vague response, but something about talking to Vi was so inexplicably natural. Without considering it a moment further, Caitlyn decided to confide in her.

“She pretended to be interested in me to get close to me for extremely selfish reasons.” Caitlyn balled her fists up in her lap. “I wasn’t even that sure that I was interested in her to begin with, but still I took a chance and invited her into my home. I feel so foolish for trusting her.”

“Hey,” Vi moved slowly, covering one of Caitlyn’s hands with her large, calloused ones, giving a firm squeeze. “It isn’t a bad thing to assume that people have good intentions. If she brought anything other than that to the table, then that’s on her, not you.” Vi shook her head in frustration. “Honestly, screw her.”

Caitlyn actually burst out into a little giggle at this. Vi was so blunt.

“Yes…screw her.” Caitlyn repeated slowly, trying the crass dismissal on for size. It felt surprisingly good. Freeing.

They both laughed for a little bit and shared more of the flatbread pizza. They chatted about work, both complaining about the various pain points in their lines of work. Caitlyn ranted about clients who couldn’t make up their minds and sent amendment after amendment, making it impossible to finalize the design. Vi rolled her eyes sympathetically and said it reminded her of the time a patron sent back a dish twice, each time with an extra alteration until it barely resembled the original dish, and then proceeded to complain that the flavors didn’t come together well in the final iteration.

They continued to talk long after the food was gone, trading more stories and laughing through their pain. After a small, but comfortable lull in conversation, Vi checked her watch.

“Well…” she seemed a little hesitant. “I don’t want to keep you too late. I know that this whole evening has been unplanned, and I would hate to overstay my welcome like she-who-will-not-be-named.”

“Please, you’re absolutely nothing like her.” Caitlyn wrinkled her nose up in disgust at the comparison, even as a joke. “But I do need to get a few things done tonight before I can officially call my work week finished.”

She should be happy to be returning to a quiet environment so that she could work in peace, but the thought of Vi leaving made Caitlyn’s heart feel a little heavier for some odd reason.

Vi gave her a little smile. “Well thank you, for dinner and the company.”

“No need to thank me for the food, that was your meal.” Caitlyn pointed out.

Vi chuckled. “I guess that’s right.”

They walked to the door and Caitlyn unlocked it, holding it open for Vi, who slowly walked through and turned around with a face that Caitlyn couldn’t quite read.

“Good night, Lyn.”

Caitlyn blinked in confusion a few times before realizing that Vi was still calling her by her pseudonym. It was her own fault for never correcting her, but after the night she’d had with Maddie, it was kind of nice to know for sure that Vi had no idea about her family origins.

So even though it made her feel a little guilty, Caitlyn decided not to elaborate, to simply let Vi believe that for a little longer.

“Good night, Vi.” Then, before she could think any better of it, she added. “Would you want to, perhaps, do this again sometime?”

“I would actually love to.” Vi looked suddenly relieved. “I can bring your food again on Monday night, if you don’t mind getting it a little later. Maybe twenty minutes? So that I can finish my shift.”

“Yes, that would be acceptable to me.”

Caitlyn surprised herself at just how quickly she was ready to adjust her routine. That normally would have caused her far more reluctance.

“Sweet. I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

Chapter Text

[Wednesday]

Before Caitlyn knew it, her routine had adopted a new step. And that step was a certain red haired chef showing up to her apartment several nights a week with dinner for two and a dangerously addictive smile.

Vi had been consistently coming over for dinner three nights a week for three weeks now. During the first week, they would eat together, and Vi would leave immediately after, giving Caitlyn her quiet time to work if she needed. But, sometime towards the end of the second week, Vi had shyly asked if she could stick around and watch television while Caitlyn worked at her desk. Vi quickly clarified that she’d connect the TV audio output to her bluetooth headphones, so as not to disturb Caitlyn. Vi explained that she hadn’t felt like going home to an empty apartment just yet, and Caitlyn felt similarly about Vi leaving her in that same state.

Without having to think much about it, Caitlyn agreed to the proposal, finding that Vi’s quiet presence on her couch while she worked was surprisingly comforting. Every once in a while, Vi would laugh airily at whatever had just happened in her favorite silly animated show (something with an acrobatic clown lady and her green girlfriend), and a host of butterflies would erupt in Caitlyn’s stomach. She glanced over from her desk, taking the time to study Vi’s side profile, knowing that Vi was thoroughly distracted. Vi was so devastatingly beautiful. Unbelievably handsome.

Of course, Caitlyn realized that she was attracted to Vi. Who wouldn’t be? But she didn’t want to do anything to endanger the precarious peace that they’d built with one another. She hadn’t even realized how isolated she’d felt, quietly eating dinner by herself most nights of the week until Vi randomly showed up at her door one day and filled her condo with warmth and laughter. Caitlyn didn’t want to lose that—she couldn’t. If that meant stuffing her more…physical urges down, then so be it.

They were midway through their fourth week dining together, it was a quiet Wednesday night, and they’d just finished up their risotto and a few glasses of wine. Vi was on the couch watching a movie while she waited for the wine buzz to die down before she drove home. Caitlyn had been hard at work over at her desk for just over two hours now.

“Hey,” Vi called out from the couch, as she glanced over her shoulder at Caitlyn, movie credits rolling on the screen and headphones in hand.

“Hmm?” Caitlyn responded, barely committing to a glance that way, still focused on the work ahead of her.

“Don’t forget to take a little break. Stretch your muscles out,” Vi reminded her firmly, but without any condescension or judgment.

Caitlyn checked the clock.

Oh.

It had been quite some time that she’d been sitting there. She sat back in her chair and tentatively tried to roll her neck to the side and was instantly met with a sharp pain. Caitlyn winced audibly.

She heard Vi sigh from the couch. “Exactly what I was afraid of. Come here.”

Vi patted the spot on the couch next to her, and Caitlyn didn’t even bother protesting after Vi had practically predicted that this would happen, reading her tendencies easily like a book. She plopped down on the couch next to Vi, a little curious as to what the plan was.

“I’m actually pretty decent at massages, mind if I take a crack at it?” Vi’s eyes gave Caitlyn a quick once over.

“No, not at all,” Caitlyn tried to sound casual, but her voice quivered at the thought of Vi’s hands on her body. She hoped to gods that Vi hadn’t noticed. Caitlyn rushed to continue the conversation to distract from it. “When did you learn?”

Vi shrugged. “I dated this physical therapist briefly a couple years back. She was nice, but more importantly she was really good at—”

“Understood. That makes sense.” Caitlyn cut off that sentence as quickly as possible, suddenly extremely perturbed. The thought of some woman with her hands all over Vi’s body made Caitlyn’s skin feverish and her throat tight for some reason.

“Right, face that wall.” Vi instructed as she turned on the couch towards Caitlyn, tucking one leg in front of her while the other casually hung off the side of the couch.

Caitlyn faced away from Vi, sitting crisscrossed and fighting to control the thumping in her chest as she became acutely aware of the inside clothes she had selected tonight—a loose, thin t-shirt and some mid-thigh soft shorts. She heard Vi shift a little closer, then almost startled when she felt Vi’s legs brush against her behind as Vi shifted even closer until she was comfortably slotted directly behind Caitlyn.

“Alright, just relax for me,” Vi whispered reassuringly, somehow picking up on Caitlyn’s nerves, because of course she did.

Caitlyn inhaled a deep breath and willed her fluttering nerves to dissipate with the exhale. “I’m ready.”

Caitlyn was not ready.

Not for how warm or massive Vi’s hands were, nearly all encompassing as they wrapped around the back of her neck, Vi’s thumbs probing gently around to identify the tightest muscles there. Vi was a human furnace. Caitlyn couldn’t tell how much of the building flush on her neck was from her getting flustered or from the warmth radiating from Vi’s palms. Probably a healthy mix of both.

Once Vi located one of the angriest muscles pulled taut in Caitlyn’s neck, she began to tentatively rub circles into it with the pads of her thumb. The muscle released its tight coil ever so slightly with each pass of increasing pressure, Vi’s fingers gently coaxing the angry muscle into submission.

“Mm. Yeah, you’re really tightened up here.” Vi murmured almost to herself as her hands continued to do the lords’ work.

After the muscles had been warmed up, Vi moved on to her next phase.

“Ok, I’m gonna guide you through some neck exercises to stretch you out a little. Sound good?”

Caitlyn simply nodded. She did not trust her voice not to betray her again in response to that.

Taking that as confirmation enough, Vi took Caitlyn’s head in her hands more firmly, guiding her to tilt her head to the right until she could feel the muscle start to pull pleasantly. Once they pushed past the initial twinge of soreness, the sensation was satisfying to say the absolute least—borderlining on downright pleasurable if Caitlyn was being honest.

Not wanting to push too far, Vi backed off and guided Caitlyn into the same motion on the opposite side. While she appreciated Vi’s cautious nature, Caitlyn knew she could take more, be pushed a little further.

As Vi was about to pull back prematurely again on the other side, Caitlyn blurted out. “More, you can stretch me further than that. I can take it.”

Vi only hummed in response, a low rumble from deep within her chest, and pushed the stretch even further. Caitlyn closed her eyes and surrendered to the heavenly feeling. After repeating the stretch on the other side with the increased pressure, Vi had effectively turned her muscles to goo. Her neck was completely relaxed, and having successfully accomplished her task, Vi slowly retracted her hands.

Although Caitlyn was extremely grateful for the service, she wished a little greedily that it could’ve gone on longer. She hated how much she enjoyed Vi’s hands on her, kneading her into putty, handling her however Vi saw fit. Caitlyn was ashamed to admit to herself that she had enjoyed it a little too much, an inappropriate amount for a small favor between friends.

“And your back?” Vi’s voice yanked her out of her increasingly immoral train of thought.

“Pardon?”

“Is there any tightness in your back?” Vi asked again, and Caitlyn could’ve sworn that her voice was a little lower and raspier than it had been the first time she asked.

“I think there’s…definitely some tension there.” Then after a moment's hesitation, Caitlyn quickly added. “Especially in the lower region.”

Was there actually? Maybe, maybe not. Did Caitlyn say that there was? Definitely so.

She was only human. Sue her.

“Lie down.” Vi commanded gently.

They shifted around, Caitlyn lying down on her stomach on the couch, her head resting to the side in her arms and Vi shuffling forward on her knees to straddle Caitlyn’s hips.

At this point, there was no denying the heat that pooled between her legs. Caitlyn fought valiantly to keep her response to that realization metered—normal. She made sure to deny every urge to push herself against the couch cushion, to rub her thighs together, to chase any amount of contact to relieve the pressure that was building there, no matter how much she burned to.

Without another moment's hesitation, Vi’s skilled hands were back on her, the heels of her hand rubbing large circles into her shoulder blades. Then, Vi repositioned her hands so that she could knead the heel of her hands into the thick chords of muscle on either side of Caitlyn’s spine. In the process, her fingertips brushed the curve of Caitlyn's waist, trailing down further and further as Vi methodically repeated the circular motions, leaving trails of heat everywhere she touched.

“Ah yeah, definitely some more tightness back here.” Vi whispered softly, almost as if talking any louder would break whatever spell had come over the two of them. Vi continued to work into the muscles, and Caitlyn could feel herself relaxing further beneath Vi’s touch, fully giving in to the soothing nature of the massage. Vi noticed too. “Mhm. Just like that—relax for me. You’re doing so well.”

If Caitlyn thought she was struggling to keep control before, she was absolutely doomed now. The praise from Vi shot straight between her legs as Vi continued to make a puddle out of her. Previously tensed up muscles turned to warm dough in Vi’s hands.

Caitlyn hummed her appreciation—or at least she tried to—the sound instead came out sounding dangerously close to a moan. Both women froze.

Alarm bells went off in Caitlyn’s brain. She had not meant for that to sound like that. What should she do? There was no way that Vi hadn’t heard that. The way that Vi stopped moving at the exact same time as Caitlyn was proof enough of that. Should she apologize? Caitlyn scrambled to come up with the right words but everything she thought of would just make things worse.

Oh goodness, apologies about the moan, it just slipped out, your hands are molten lava?

No, definitely not that. But she had to say something. Just when Caitlyn was about to turn around and stutter out an apology for making things uncomfortable, she felt warm hands return to her back. Caitlyn’s breath hitched slightly, and if Vi noticed that too, she thankfully didn’t mention it. In fact, Vi’s hands seemed to move with a renewed sense of urgency. Rolling and pushing down Caitlyn’s back until her hands came to rest on Caitlyn’s lower back area, just above the curve into her rear.

“You said the lower region was giving you trouble, hmm?” Vi confirmed, her voice taking on a timbre so low that it nearly sent a shiver down Caitlyn’s spine.

“Yes,” was all Caitlyn could manage, nearly breathless in her anticipation.

Vi used one hand to grasp onto Caitlyn’s hip in a firm hold to keep her steady while the other focused on kneading into one side of her lower back. It felt so good, but Caitlyn was determined not to let another embarrassing sound slip, instead focusing on regulating her breathing which had become heavy and slightly erratic. Vi switched sides and the hold on her hip felt even more intense as Vi’s fingers dug into the soft, supple skin there. The way Vi was clutching onto her now borderlined on possessive.

Oh, how she wanted to tell Vi exactly how much she was enjoying this. How much she wanted Vi to slide her sleep shorts down, move her panties to the side, and touch her in earnest. Burning up in her desire, Caitlyn was teetering dangerously close on the edge of blurting out her confession when—

“Uhm. I think I found all your knots.” Vi attempted a casual air as her hands retreated from Caitlyn’s back, but her voice was far too tight to really sell the nonchalance.

Vi quickly climbed off of the couch and took a few steps away, hovering somewhat awkwardly next to the coffee table. Caitlyn cleared her throat lightly and slowly sat back up on the couch, watching Vi closely.

Vi’s eyes darted off to the side, unable to meet Caitlyn’s gaze. “Anyway, I’m sure you have some things to wrap up for work. Wouldn’t want to hold you up any longer. I’ll head out.”

Swiftly collecting her things and pausing to pack up their empty take out boxes—Vi always remembered that Caitlyn preferred to throw it away in the outdoor dumpster even if there wasn’t any food left because she was so sensitive to smells—Vi started for the door.

Feeling a little helpless, Caitlyn only watched with a small lump in her throat as Vi practically sprinted out of her apartment.

She didn’t know what to say to make Vi stay, so instead she only offered a quiet, “See you on Friday?”

“Yep, yes. See you then.” Vi offered a tense smile before stepping out of the door and clicking it shut behind her.

[Thursday]

Caitlyn could barely focus at work the next day. Her body was on autopilot, completing small tasks while her mind continuously replayed last night over and over again like a broken record.

She had come so close to saying something she wouldn’t have been able to take back, only to be interrupted by Vi abruptly leaving. Why did Vi leave? She clearly noticed the tension building between them—did that mean she didn’t want to go down that path with Caitlyn? Had she stayed a minute longer, Caitlyn would’ve asked to have her right then and there on the couch. Vi must’ve realized that, it was so obvious. And still she chose to leave.

Caitlyn dropped her head into her hands and groaned. The rest of the work day passed in a hopeless blur.

“You mean to tell me you two still haven’t hooked up yet?” Mel raised an eyebrow at Caitlyn.

“Mel!”

“What? From what you’ve told me you both sound obsessed with each other. What’s the issue?”

“The issue is that as soon as things remotely progressed outside of platonic, Vi ran away. I may not always be the most adept at reading cues, but that’s a pretty clear indication of not wanting to go there, as far as I understand.” Caitlyn huffed out a little too bitterly.

“Maybe she was just nervous,” Jayce shrugged, looking uncomfortable. He clearly did not want to get particularly far into the details of whatever ‘not so platonic’ evening the woman who was practically his little sister had yesterday. “What’s the big deal, it’s not like this is the first fling you’ve ever had?”

Caitlyn scoffed, fighting a dangerously powerful flash of indignation at someone referring to Vi as just a fling.

“It’s not a fling. We have a connection. Everything is just so…natural between us.”

Caitlyn knew it sounded strange, way too fast to be this sure of someone, but she couldn’t explain it. While she and Vi were technically new to each other, being around Vi always felt so warm and familiar. Caitlyn had never felt this way about anyone outside of her family or her two best friends, who were all people who had known her for years, if not decades. If this is how it felt with Vi after one month, Caitlyn could only imagine what it would be like in years.

That thought quickly surprised her. At what point had she started to imagine her future with a certain red-haired chef heavily featured in it?

Thankfully, Mel didn’t tease or downplay Caitlyn’s sentiment. She only listened intently with a knowing smile. “Perhaps she’s having the same doubts that you are. Have either of you tried talking about your feelings with the other?” Mel asked as if it were so damn simple.

“Of course not. What if Vi doesn’t feel the same way, and I ruin everything?”

“I am certain that will not happen.” Mel concluded easily.

“Yes, well, you are also the person who convinced me to go on a date with Maddie—who turned out to be a madwoman intent on destroying both of our families over a nonexistent conspiracy.” Caitlyn reminded her with an accusatory tone.

“To be fair though, if you never went on that date with Maddie, you never would have met Vi.” Mel pointed out coolly, annoyingly undeterred by Caitlyn’s allegation.

“Mhm. Domino effect.” Jayce chimed in between bites of food in support of his girlfriend, as he always was.

Caitlyn sighed and rolled her eyes. These two could barely remember how difficult it was to be single. It went without saying that Caitlyn wanted to tell Vi how she felt, but not knowing whether Vi reciprocated the feelings was enough to make her want to swallow those emotions whole and never speak of them again.

[Friday]

Vi was screwed, so royally screwed. She had become hopelessly enamored with her incredibly attractive friend and was doing absolutely nothing to slow herself down in terms of these feelings. Vi had no idea how Caitlyn hadn’t noticed the way her hands shook and her face flushed every time that Caitlyn would look at her with those piercing blue eyes or how her heart would nearly beat out of her chest whenever Caitlyn was in a six foot radius.

It was driving her crazy to be around Caitlyn, but the only thing that drove her even more insane was to be away from her. Vi could sense that she couldn’t keep this up for much longer. Caitlyn was dominating her thoughts in a way Vi had never experienced before. Yes, of course, Vi wanted her, but even more so she wanted to be with her. All the time—not just a few nights of the week. Those quiet nights spent with Caitlyn had quickly become the part of the week that Vi looked forward to the most. And every additional night they spent together, Vi came closer and closer to saying something she might not be able to take back if Caitlyn didn’t feel the same way.

To make matters worse, Vi had offered to straight up massage Caitlyn, barely doing anything to hide her own arousal at the whole situation. Caitlyn probably thought that she was some kind of pervert after Wednesday night—offering to help her out as a friend only to get way too much personal enjoyment from the experience. Vi was riddled with guilt, but that unfortunately did nothing to stop the memory from riling her up all over again.

She couldn’t get it out of her head; the feeling of Caitlyn’s warm, lithe body beneath her, the way Caitlyn’s tiny waist fit perfectly in her palms, the little sounds of satisfaction coming from Caitlyn as her muscles finally relaxed. Vi couldn’t help wondering if those were the same sounds she’d make when she—

No. Nope.

Vi cut off that disastrous line of thought and physically shook her head, as if she could fling the horniness out.

Yesterday had passed in a blur of panic, and it was already Friday, but Vi wasn’t sure if she was ready to see Caitlyn again today. She had very little confidence that she could pass as a normal human being in Caitlyn’s presence tonight. Caitlyn would take one look at her and see right through her. Vi irrationally convinced herself that Caitlyn would somehow be able to sense the salacious fantasies that have plagued Vi’s mind for the past couple days.

No, she couldn’t let that happen. Vi sent Caitlyn a quick text:

Me (11:34 am):

Hey, car won’t start today. Don’t know if I can make it over tonight after work.

Vi wasn't proud of the white lie, but self-preservation came before honor today. She tossed her backpack and phone into her employee locker and tied her dark green apron around her waist, ready for the start of her shift.

Per usual, Friday was one of their busiest days. People were getting off of work and wanted nothing more than to kick off their weekend with a cold beer and a warm meal. Vi and Ekko were slammed in the back, darting around the kitchen nonstop for several hours straight. Powder and Mylo shot back and forth between the back and front to run everyone their food as soon as it was ready.

No one saw Clagg behind the ever growing mountain of dishes that he was powering through all day.

The shift passed by simultaneously way too slowly and incredibly quickly on account of Vi never quite getting a chance to slow down. She even decided to skip her usual smoke break today, not wanting to leave Ekko in a bad state.

Finally, things started to calm down towards the end of the shift, when all the patrons at the bar had already eaten something and were just drinking or talking at this point in the night. One last order came in for the butternut squash risotto, and Vi quickly took that up, telling Ekko he could go take his break in the meantime.

Once Vi plated the food, Powder shuffled it out to the customer, only to promptly return to the kitchen not ten minutes later.

“Viiiiiii!”

“What?” Vi snapped, unable to keep the exasperation from her tone. It had been a long day.

“Customer wants to see you.” Powder lazily pointed a thumb over her shoulder to the bar area.

“What?” Vi repeated, even more annoyed at the idea of interacting with a stranger right now, she was in no mood.

“Wants to ‘give her compliments to the chef’ or whatever. I don’t know.”

“Just tell them I said thanks or something.”

“Tried that already,” Powder sighed, already over this apparently dull conversation. “She wants to say it herself.” Then, Powder tacked on. “It isn’t your cougar girlfriend if that’s what you’re worried about. I know you’re hiding from her today.”

Vi rolled her eyes. “I am not hiding. And she is not a cougar. We are the same age.”

“But she is your girlfriend?” Claggor piped up from behind a pile of dishes, leaning over to peer around the side of the stainless steel dishwasher at Vi.

“Also no,” Vi grumbled.

“I think it’s nice that you’re into mature women.” Ekko cut in from behind the grill where he was caramelizing onions. “Nothing wrong with a little AARP action. Lyn’s got that retirement rizz—I have to respect that.”

“Oh my gods.” Vi groaned out amongst snickers from everyone else and wiped her hands off on a towel before throwing it down onto the counter. “Everyone shut up.”

And suddenly, talking to a stranger in the bar area seemed much more appealing than the alternative of staying back here while the crew continued to riff on this particularly irritating line of teasing.

Vi pushed out of the kitchen door into the bar and quickly spotted a brunette with an oddly muted official air about her, waiting at the bar with the risotto dish that Vi had just sent out. Vi plastered on a fake smile and went over.

“Enjoying your meal?” Vi nodded towards the plate.

“Immensely,” the woman responded smoothly as she took a long moment to rake her eyes down and back up Vi’s form. “Though, had I known what you looked like before, I would’ve offered more than just my compliments to the chef.”

Vi only chuckled at the boldness. She usually didn’t mind a bit of shameless flirting, but it had been a long day and her mind was already fully occupied with…other matters. Six foot tall, midnight blue hair matters.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it,” Vi offered neutrally.

“More than just liked, you are clearly quite skilled in the kitchen. I will be singing your praises for everyone who is unfamiliar.” The woman seemed genuinely impressed by Vi’s food, which Vi did appreciate immensely. But not soon after, the woman dropped her tone a little lower, so only the two of them could hear. “Is there perhaps something else I could enjoy for dessert as well?” The woman asked suggestively.

Definitely wasn’t talking about the brownies.

“Um, well, I have—”

“Vi?” A posh voice cautiously interrupted whatever the hell this interaction was.

Recognizing who it belonged to instantaneously, Vi’s head whipped up, feeling extremely caught off guard and a little shaken up. “Oh, hey Lyn, what are you doing here?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Powder and Mylo’s jaws practically drop at the confirmation that this gorgeous woman—looking painfully out of place standing in the middle of their beat up bar instead of on a movie set somewhere in front of a fleet of cameras—was Lyn.

Yeah, how’s that for retirement rizz? Vi thought smugly.

But, she didn’t have long to bask in the victory, not while Lyn was looking at her with that face. No, Vi had another storm coming.

After getting Vi’s text message about having car troubles, Caitlyn simply responded an hour later that she didn’t mind picking Vi up after her shift. She had been looking forward to it all day—seeing Vi again. Even with the awkwardness the last time they saw each other, she missed Vi’s presence and just wanted to be around her again.

Around 8:20 pm, Caitlyn got into her car and started to drive to the Last Drop. She thought it was kind of funny how many times she’d ordered from here without ever seeing the actual establishment. Caitlyn was actually pretty excited to see where Vi worked.

That was, until she walked in the door to see Vi talking to some woman who was practically undressing Vi with her eyes and leaning as suggestively as possible against the bar top.

Before Caitlyn even realized it, her legs had taken her straight to the scene of the crime.

“Vi?”

Vi’s head whipped up, looking surprised. “Oh, hey Lyn, what are you doing here?”

“I texted you that I would come pick you up.” Caitlyn was met with a blank expression. “Since you’re having car troubles today?”

Something flashed across Vi’s face. Guilt, maybe? Why would Vi feel guilty? Was that just an excuse Vi told her so that Vi could meet up with this brunette instead of having dinner with her tonight?

Suddenly, Caitlyn felt very silly for being here—for missing Vi.

“I see that you already have plans tonight, excuse me for interrupting,” Caitlyn clipped out quickly and turned on her heel to head for the door.

Vi was on her in a flash, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. “Wait, hold on. I’m not busy tonight, I want to leave with you.”

“Are you sure?” Caitlyn probed cautiously, eyes darting between Vi and the woman at the bar, who was watching them curiously.

“Positive. No place I’d rather be.” Vi answered without hesitation. “Just let me grab my things out of my locker real quick.”

Caitlyn waited a little impatiently, occasionally shooting glances over at the woman by the bar as Vi darted back into the kitchen to get her things. When Vi pushed out of the door, she had a faint blush, and a series of loud claps and whistles followed her from the kitchen—whatever that was about.

While Caitlyn could admit that Vi’s response to her leaving was…exactly what she wanted to hear, that didn’t stop the car ride back to her place from being tense—the memory of the woman at the bar practically throwing herself at Vi with heavy innuendo on dessert was still ringing unpleasantly in Caitlyn’s ears.

More than just the jealousy of witnessing the flirting, it bothered Caitlyn to know that their routine—Vi making her a meal and them sharing it together—was not special to Vi in the same way that it was to Caitlyn. Vi could have been doing this the whole time with other women, just standard procedure for her. Perhaps it was simply an easy way for Vi to break the ice and flirt with whomever she found attractive that day. That brunette certainly seemed into it. Not that Caitlyn could blame her when Caitlyn also knew all too well just how effective that strategy was. Caitlyn was probably just the only woman dense enough to fall head over heels for the little act, she thought bitterly to herself.

Even though Caitlyn knew it was irrational, it left her feeling foolish and sour. She and Vi hadn’t committed to each other in any capacity—hell, they hadn’t even kissed. Caitlyn had no right to feel this way, so she simply bit her tongue for the rest of the drive.

”I’m sorry I didn’t see your text earlier,” Vi attempted cautiously as Caitlyn pulled into her spot in the parking garage below the building.

”That’s quite alright. I know you don’t carry your phone with you during your shift,” Caitlyn responded in a curt, neutral tone.

”Right.” Vi ran her hand through her hair as they rode the elevator up to Caitlyn’s floor in more tense silence.

They entered Caitlyn’s apartment and Vi dragged her feet across the threshold looking like she was walking into her own execution.

”Um…is something wrong?” Vi asked with her stupid little confused puppy eyes coming out.

Caitlyn immediately looked away before she could completely succumb to them. “No.”

”Ok…” Vi looked around the room like if she searched hard enough an explanation for the source of the tension might materialize into thin air, before glancing at Caitlyn again. “Kinda feels like something’s wrong.”

”Do you always cook for girls and have dinner with them? Is that your thing?” Caitlyn blurted out.

”What?”

“Find a girl, cook for her, watch her swoon. Is that just how you make women fall for you?” She turned to face Vi directly, shooting a piercing look at her.

“No. I—” Vi furrowed her brow in confusion. “I have never done that before in my life.”

You’ve already done it to me.

Caitlyn ignored that unhelpful thought. Instead she scoffed, leveling a much easier accusation. “You just did! I saw you flirting with that brunette at the bar.”

“She was flirting with me! Not the other way around, there’s a difference.” Vi argued.

“You certainly didn’t seem to mind.” Caitlyn crossed her arms. “Did you actually even have car troubles today or was that just an excuse to get out of dinner with me?”

“No! I mean—” Vi sighed and shifted her weight between her feet. “Yeah, I may have lied about that.”

The admission hit Caitlyn in her chest harder than a physical blow. So Vi really was avoiding her. Even if she hadn’t been interested in that woman at the bar, she just straight up admitted that she didn’t want to be around Caitlyn regardless. Caitlyn’s worst fears were confirmed. Her feelings were unreciprocated, and Caitlyn had ruined their delicate friendship by making her unrequited emotions Vi’s problem.

Caitlyn turned away from Vi and wrapped her crossed arms even tighter around herself, biting back the lump in her throat and the sting of tears threatening her eyes.

“Hey, hey, please don’t be upset. It’s not your fault, it’s mine.” Vi hesitated for a moment, looking as if she were debating something. “I-I don’t know how to say this. I—“

“It’s alright, Vi. You are not obligated to explain yourself to me.” Caitlyn tried to wave off the apology, feeling even more pathetic that Vi was rushing to comfort her even now. It wasn’t Vi’s fault that the feelings were not mutual. “You’re free to go wherever you please with whomever you please. You don’t have to make excuses to me if you want to see someone.”

“I don’t…want that.” Vi choked out hesitantly, looking incredibly conflicted.

“You don’t?” Caitlyn asked cautiously, daring to look at Vi again.

”Yeah, no.” Vi huffed out, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, as she shook her head. “See, there’s this architect. Super tall. Dark hair. Most intelligent and hardworking woman I’ve ever met. Truly drop dead gorgeous. Unintentionally hilarious. And I don’t know, I just can’t seem to get her out of my head. No one else even comes close to her. So, no, I don’t want to see anyone else. She’s already kind of my dream girl.”

Vi’s steel blue eyes flicked up to meet Caitlyn’s, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, though a little restrained through her apprehension. Teetering on the line—equal parts hope and anxiety. Caitlyn could melt on the spot.

Caitlyn crossed the space left between them in two steps and wrapped her hands around Vi’s neck, pulling her in so she could finally crash her lips against Vi’s. Vi wasted no time matching her eagerness, wrapping her strong arms around Caitlyn’s waist and pulling her in even closer until their bodies were flush.

With no space left between them, Caitlyn could feel Vi’s breath hitch as she ran her tongue across Vi’s bottom lip. Caitlyn laced her hands through Vi’s hair, one threading through the long silky hair on one side and the other scratching through the velvety scruff on the shaved side.

Vi moaned her appreciation and bent down impatiently to completely hoist Caitlyn off the ground. Caitlyn yelped in surprise, not used to being swept off of the ground like she weighed absolutely nothing. She wrapped her legs around Vi and ran a hand down one of the bulging biceps, marveling at the sheer power coiling in it and the fact that it was nearly twice the width of her own.

As Vi held her easily in her arms like she had all the time in the world, they found each other’s lips again. This time Vi allowed her soft lips to part so that Caitlyn could lick eagerly into her mouth. Getting lost in the sensation, almost dizzy with pleasure, Caitlyn felt a needy moan tear from throat as Vi separated their lips. Caitlyn tried to chase after her only to be met with a soft smile.

“Bedroom,” Vi explained in the shortest possible manner, wasting no time as she walked them out of the living room and into the hallway down to Caitlyn’s bedroom.

That transition was Vi’s problem, not Caitlyn’s. She went right back to work littering kisses down Vi’s neck. Finally able to act on the scandalous thoughts that had haunted her for weeks, Caitlyn brushed her lips against the gear tattoo on Vi’s neck, then traced her tongue around the ink and hummed at the taste of Vi’s skin.

“Fuck.” Vi grunted out as Caitlyn took the skin between her teeth, nibbling and sucking until she knew a mark would form.

Despite being a few steps down the hall from Caitlyn’s bedroom, Vi couldn’t wait any longer. She pushed Caitlyn against the wall in the hallway and reconnected their lips desperately as she pushed her hands beneath the hem of Caitlyn’s shirt.

Caitlyn got the message instantly, pulling the shirt over her head and tossing it off to the side as Vi did the same. Caitlyn wrapped a hand around Vi’s neck and pulled her back in, already missing her lips in the short amount of time that they were apart. Vi ran a rough, calloused hand up the smooth skin of Caitlyn’s back and deftly unclasped her bra, which only threw more gasoline on the heat pooling between Caitlyn’s legs as it fell to the floor.

“Mhm—fuck, Lyn, you turn me on so much.” Vi rasped between kisses.

And suddenly Caitlyn froze in place. She was caught off guard by that pseudonym, not her name being gasped out on Vi’s soft lips. It should’ve been her real name, she needed it to be her real name. Was it possible to be jealous of your own alter ego?

Vi immediately caught on that something had gone south. She leaned back and reached a hand up to caress Caitlyn’s cheek as she searched her face. “Hey, what’s wrong? If you want to stop we can definitely—”

“Caitlyn!” Caitlyn blurted out way too suddenly.

“Huh?” Vi blinked a little owlishly.

“My name is Caitlyn. That’s what Lyn is short for.”

“Oh! This whole time Lyn was short for something? I know it sounds weird but it feels like it makes sense. Caitlyn really suits you.” Vi gently trailed her hand that had been resting on Caitlyn’s cheek up and through her midnight hair, tucking a lock behind her ear. “I know you usually use Lyn as a nickname, but I kind of like Cait, too. What would you think of me calling you that?”

“Yes, I would like that very much. But, Vi…” Caitlyn hesitated a little more, suddenly feeling guilty for leaving this unaddressed for so long. “I also shortened my last name. It’s actually Kiramman.”

“Kiramman?” Vi hummed thoughtfully. “Why does that sound familiar? Kiramman…Caitlyn Kira—holy fuck! You’re Caitlyn Kiramman?!” Vi nearly yelled.

Caitlyn winced a little, not just from the volume but also in anticipation of the inevitable shift now that Vi knew precisely who she was. Caitlyn had dealt with a lifetime of people trying to get close to her because of her last name, always unable to distinguish between who was genuinely interested in getting to know her and who just wanted something from her. It was almost always the latter. And now, Vi knew everything. How would this change things? Would this make her change her mind about—

“Wait, wait, wait.” Vi interrupted her thoughts, furrowing her brow as Caitlyn could practically see the gears turning in her head.

Caitlyn swallowed hard. Was Vi angry with her for lying for so long? Would she tell her off, break things off between them?

“So your family is close with the Medardas, right?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn answered a little hesitantly, not knowing exactly where this was going.

“And you’ve traveled to Noxus with your mom to visit them? And I assume also for political stuff occasionally?”

Caitlyn nodded solemnly. “Several times.”

“Ok, I’m sure you get this a lot, but I have to ask.”

Caitlyn held her breath as Vi leveled their gazes, preparing for the worst. A million scenarios ran through her head in a millisecond: Vi asking about her mother’s political affiliations, Vi asking one of the influential families for a favor, or the absolute worst, Vi straight up asking for money (not that she really believed Vi would actually do any of these things, but anxiety and past experiences were clouding Caitlyn’s better judgment).

Vi cleared her throat, as if she were a little reluctant to ask, but had to know. “Is the Prime Minister of Noxus as jacked as he looks on TV? I’ve been following the guy who claims to be his trainer on socials, and I just need to know that those muscles are all real—no photoshop—before I really commit to his suggested training regiment.”

“Excuse me?”

Vi flexed her arms a little to demonstrate. “The muscles, they’re real, right?”

Caitlyn blinked a few times. “Um—yes. As far as I could tell when I met the Prime Minister, his muscles all seemed legitimate.” Caitlyn answered as honestly as possible, despite her confusion.

“Amazing. Body goals, truly.” Vi shook her head in disbelief.

“Vi?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not cross with me for lying to you this whole time?”

Vi scratched her head. “You didn’t lie, you just left a couple truths for later. And given how insane that Maddie girl was, I can imagine why you’d want to hide your full identity until you knew you could trust someone.”

Caitlyn stared at the other woman in almost complete and utter disbelief at her levels of sympathy and understanding.

Vi continued. “I guess I’m just honored that you do now—trust me, I mean.”

“I-You're so—” Caitlyn couldn’t even form the right words, her heart bursting so full of a feeling that landed somewhere between unwavering adoration and raging attraction that it left her nearly speechless.

Frustrated with her inability to effectively vocalize her feelings, Caitlyn decided to rely on a more universal language, flipping Vi around and pushing her onto the wall as she pressed her lips into Vi’s. Vi barely had time to return it, since Caitlyn was pulling back and kissing down her neck, continuing down her torso, all the way until Caitlyn was kneeling before her, her hands already deftly unbuttoning Vi’s jeans.

Caitlyn paused for a moment to look up into those steel blue eyes that looked down at her with equal parts heat and wonder.

“You’re perfect, Vi. Everything I have ever wanted. You’re even more than I dreamed of.”

Then, Caitlyn proceeded to show her just how much she meant that in a language that didn’t need any translation. She spelled out her appreciation, her adoration, her need for Vi with her tongue until Vi was shaking and gasping out her name.

As soon as she was able to stand again, Vi tugged Caitlyn into her bedroom, desperate to respond in kind. Vi used her fingers to tell Caitlyn just how much Vi wanted her, just how much Vi was thrilled to finally be hers.

They went back and forth until they collapsed into a blissed exhaustion on the bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Vi jolted awake to the sound of her phone buzzing against the hardwood floor of Caitlyn’s apartment. In favor of far more interesting activities, Vi had forgotten to fish it out of her jeans, which were haphazardly abandoned on the floor next to the bed, and silence it before falling asleep. She reached over the side of the bed to grab it and switch it onto do not disturb. She’d received a few texts from Powder. It was way too late to be texting, but Vi was used to her sister mulling about during ungodly hours—Powder always said it was when she did her best thinking.

Powder (1:34am):

Have you seen this??

www.noxwineandfood.com/w83773j9k

Vi tapped on the link, expecting some dumb meme or video like Powder always sent her. But instead, she was linked to an article on the official Noxus Food & Wine website.

Tired of the Piltover fine dining scene?
Chef Vi is cooking up something special right across the bridge in Zaun.

Blinking once, twice, three times, then rubbing her eyes to make sure she was actually awake, not still dreaming, Vi finally allowed her jaw to drop. She read through the article, which was an honest, but generally very flattering review of Vi’s full menu at the Last Drop. She read the article over and over as it raved about her techniques and flavors, though pointed out she could put a little more effort into presentation.

Once Vi reached the end of the article for the third time, she looked for the ‘About the Author’ section, completely bewildered as to how she had failed to notice a professional food critic working their way through her entire menu. Vi read the short blurb about a certain Justine Flencher, who was a very well known Noxian food critic, famous for her ability to spot upcoming talent in small hole-in-the-wall restaurants.

Vi huffed out in humored surprise as she scrolled a little further to see a picture next to the author blurb that featured none other than the flirty brunette who had been at the bar yesterday. Apparently she’d been coming to the Last Drop every day for the past week to try Vi’s dishes and had published this review two days ago. Yesterday, Justine only came by the bar one last time on unofficial business to have her favorite dish again before traveling back to Noxus the next day.

That’s why Justine decided on a whim to request to see Vi that night to give her compliments (and apparently with the review already published she also didn’t mind shooting her shot with the apparently attractive chef—Noxians were just bold like that).

The following month was an absolute whirlwind of activity. The review had put the Last Drop on the map in a way that neither Vi nor Vander could have ever predicted. They had hordes of people coming from over the bridge, not even to drink, just to try the food. The bar was hardly large enough to handle the influx of new patrons, making the new situation thrilling but ultimately untenable, especially as their loyal Zaunite customers were struggling to even get into the bar for a pint of beer after work. Vander pulled Vi aside at some point and gently prompted her to consider if the Last Drop was still the best outlet for her creative talent.

Knowing exactly who could help with this, Caitlyn happily called in a favor with Mel, who was a renowned venture capitalist and all around business extraordinaire. Mel was enthusiastic to meet Vi for more reasons than just business, teasing Caitlyn about how long she’d hidden the wonderful chef that she couldn’t stop talking about from her friends. Mel easily kept the PR buzz going by having Vi go to a few interviews with local news outlets and host a few special pop-up events around the city in which she could showcase even more of her dishes.

Simultaneously, Mel was lining up meetings with investors like dominos, knocking them down with Vi’s delicious food and charming personality. More than half were interested in investing in the hot new chef. Once they’d gathered enough money to kick Vi off in her own restaurant, Mel scouted a few trendy locations in Piltover for Vi to consider. Vi only waved them off dismissively and bought an empty lot off one of the main road lines in midtown Zaun.

After the lot had been purchased, Vi asked Caitlyn a little shyly if she would be interested in designing the restaurant. Caitlyn was honored that Vi trusted her with such an important role and accepted without hesitation. Thankfully, Caitlyn also had plenty of time to take on this design with Vi, since she had transferred teams out from under Marcus to another team manager in the firm. Grayson was leagues more professional than Marcus and treated Caitlyn with the utmost respect, only assigning what she could reasonably handle and warmly congratulating her when she delivered on those projects.

This left Caitlyn plenty of time to design Vi’s restaurant outside of official work hours, consulting her every step of the way and making sure she brought Vi’s vision to life exactly how Vi imagined it. After the design was finalized and the structural aspects of the building were being constructed, Caitlyn introduced Vi to Lest, a talented interior designer that she’d met on another project. Lest took the restaurant from an empty—albeit well-designed—building to a fully furnished, sleek interior. It was all rich, dark wood tones and soft warm lighting. The booth cushions were a little pop of color, a rich purple velvet, and when Lest asked why Vi had selected that particular color, she admitted it was reminiscent of the shade of her mother’s hair.

A few months later, after hiring and training staff, constructing an entirely new menu, and meeting with never ending lists of vendors, Vi was able to proudly say that she’d finally opened her restaurant. The grand opening was a smashing success. Vi had been busy all night, but was particularly grateful that Vander, Powder, Ekko, and the boys had come through—as well as Caitlyn, Tobias, and Cassandra a little later in the evening. She made sure to send out a few extra goodies to their table, and only theirs, to show that she was thinking about them even though she was shackled to the kitchen.

At some point, Justine, the Noxian food critic, returned and wrote another article about the grand opening:

Chef Vi opens with a roaring success in her new Zaun restaurant:
Blisters & Bedrock.

.

..

…

….

[A Friday]

It was just about 9:00 pm, and Vi had sent the rest of the staff home early for the night after a job well done on a particularly hectic day. She always found it oddly cathartic to methodically clean every surface of the kitchen until the stainless steel reflected her countenance back to her.

Vi’s watch chirped out a cheerful—beep, beep! beep, beep!—to which she switched it off with a smile and tossed her dishrag back into the soapy bucket of water. She walked over to the pizza oven along the wall of the kitchen and used the long pull to slide the pizza out onto a large wooden cutting board. She rolled a slicer over the freshly baked flatbread, cutting it into manageable pieces.

The kale and pesto flatbread had long since been retired from the official menu, but Vi still found herself putting one in the oven every Friday.

She picked up the cutting board and carefully walked it towards her office, which was just off the kitchen down a short hallway. Vi chuckled a little to herself, still remembering the puzzled look on Lest’s face when Vi requested that she secretly add a few details to Vi’s office without anyone knowing: thorough sound-proofing on the walls, a solid wood drafting table on the wall adjacent to her own desk, and a mini fridge, which was now stocked with water and little snacks.

Vi knocked lightly on the office door, although she already knew she wouldn’t get a response, it was just habit at this point really. She cracked open the door slowly. Only after Vi had taken several steps into the cozy office did Caitlyn notice her, looking up from her work as a gorgeous little smile that showed off her tooth gap began to spread across her face. Vi placed the cutting board down on her own flat top desk and leaned in to place a sweet, warm kiss onto the soft lips of her fiancé.

“I’ve got a special delivery, a kale and pesto flatbread pizza for Lyn Kira?” Vi put way too much emphasis on the pseudonym and both women immediately burst into a fit of giggles.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “You know you don’t have to do that every single time?”

“I know I don’t have to—I want to.”

Vi pulled up a chair next to Caitlyn’s, and they shared dinner together over pleasant conversation, like they had done religiously every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for a little over four years now.