Fingers drummed on the table as the owner went through the report for the third time that night. Eyebrows furrowed and the woman sighed, practically slamming the sheet down in pure frustration. Reaching for her fountain pen, LeBlanc neatly crossed out the mistake and left annotations to the side for future references. Setting the pen down on the table again, the Deceiver rested her chin on her intertwined fingers. Her concentration was starting to wan.
And only when she noticed yet another mistake, did she slowly rise from her chair. Breathing our louder than she should, Evaine glanced at the grandfather clock rested against the wall. 2AM. It was late and these damned reports were far from being half-close to complete. True, she was getting mildly irritated. Maybe she had had a long day. Yes. That sounded like a perfectly reasonable excuse. LeBlanc did not get annoyed. And LeBlanc definitely didn't make any mistakes.
Rubbing the back of her neck to try and ease up the tension, the mage went for the door. Grabbing her signature cloak, she wrapped it around her shoulders and was out in one swift movement. She stood there for a moment before striding off in a determined walk. As she crossed the Noxian quarters, the sorceress was almost surprised at how many lights were still on this early in the morning. Maybe the Noxian reputation was true. Maybe most really were dirty schemers. A smile grew on her lips.
Her cape flew around her as the wind pushed against it. Hugging herself, LeBlanc was satisfied with her choice of wear. Chosing comfort over appeal Evaine had switched from her regular daring outfit to one that was more suitable for long seated hours. Black waist heigh trousers and an ample shirt. The recipe for good paperwork filling. A snort escaped the mage. She wouldn't usually walk around campus in such unglamourous wear. Oh well. She doubted that she would see any other living soul at this hour.
And then a single person came to mind. Right hand twitched very slightly.
Always take a pause to think about things before rushing headfirst into it. Wise words of her predecessor forced her to do just that, stopping her dead in her tracks.
She thought back at the past few months. Nothing. They had been pretty uneventful. And the Deceiver was itching for something fun to do. But not just any fun. Oh no. Emilia LeBlanc liked challenges. She liked interesting games. She liked unexpected games. Orange eyes clouded over, a wicked smile splitting her lips.
This was going to be fun.
Heals clicked against the marble floors, Evaine stepped into the Institute, a set mind on her destination. After restless hours of dutifully dragging herself through mandatory reports, -how does one run the Black Rose without a semblance of organisation- she needed a reward. Or two. And maybe said rewards could take her mind off the pile that longed for her return. If it did so little as to ease the growing headache then she would welcome it with open arms. Twisting and turning through the Institute's halls, the magician took her time. After all, she was in no real rush, was she?
Grand doors swung open and led her to a small garden. Pleasant by the day, this little spot was stunning by night. Devoid of crowds that lurked there during the daytime, the area was actually quiet. Sometimes the Deceiver would enjoy a midnight trip here. Sometimes she would stay until the birds started to sing. And that was usually her queue to disappear before any of the early risers spotted her. Shaking her head, she crossed the paved path a little more hastily, eager to get to her prize. LeBlanc was not here to admire the scenery, after all.
Hands rested against the doors when she paused. Earlier smile returning. Anything but gently, she flung the doors open, making the person inside jump. The only person she would suspect of staying up this late on Institute grounds.
Caitlyn composed herself, the curt nod was the only sign that she had registered the new presence in the room. Blue eyes barely teared away from papers, only sparing time to cross Evaine's gaze And just like that, they dived back into the boring world of forms. But the Sheriff was like that. All work and no play. LeBlanc shook her head and went over to the bar. Circling behind the counter, a painted nail tapped against her chin, a clear sign that there were many interesting choices in Gragas' spirit collection.
"You shouldn't be back there."
LeBlanc smiled at the posh accent, as she spun on her heels. "Should I serve you a glass, Miss Sheriff?"
Aegean eyes rolled as the Sheriff shook her head. Resting her forehead against her hand. A light eventually flickered through her eyes, the Sheriff reaching out to shuffle through papers. Grabbing one in particular, she handled it with extreme care, placing it beside the form she was filling out, completing the last segment with a content sigh. LeBlanc watched, amused, as the victory was obviously short lived, the midnight haired woman turning over the page, shoulders dropping only very slightly as she read through long and tedious sentences.
Scowling, the Piltovian tapped the fountain pen against the table delicately, coming to terms that she would be pulling an all nighter. Again.
And then, there was a small gust of wind, manicured hand reaching over the table and grabbing one of the documents. Caitlyn raised her eyes and then cocked an eyebrow at Leblanc's nosiness. The mage was pretending to make a surprised face, as she scanned through the document. Indulgent, Caitlyn humoured her. The Matron probably knew every piece of information anyway.
After a few moments of stillness, the time came when it was the Sheriff's turn to bend across the table, snatching the paper away. Just as soon as she had got the form back, a shiver ran down her spine. Emilia LeBlanc gave another one of her smiles. Something flickered across orange eyes. And the Detective couldn't quite decipher it. Nor was she sure she liked it. Emilia LeBlanc never did bring anything good.
No use thinking about this now.
Raising her pen, Caitlyn was set to go back to work when a strange warmth drew her attention. The woman recoiled, retrieving her hand from the Deceiver's soft touch. The latter simply laughed, nevertheless resting her hand on the table where the contact had first happened.
Brows furrowed, mouth opened before LeBlanc got there first. In a clear voice, she asked:
"Would you like some ice with your liquor, Dear Sheriff."
"I won't drink," she replied.
"Ice it is, then," agreed the Deceiver.
The Sheriff said nothing as a glass was placed in front of her. The Detective did not turn around. LeBlanc's own glass was set in front of her, the clone then standing in a neutral stance beside the original.
"How kind."
"You are most welcome, my Dear." a smile dancing on purple lips.
"How do I know that this drink is safe?"
"Safe?"
"Rumours say that you are quite adept with poisons and nasty concoctions."
"Rumours only. I would never do anything so gaudy as to poison you," she laughed, "Trust me."
"I don't."
"I am deeply sorry about that, then."
With measured movements, Leblanc reached for Caitlyn's glass, picking it up gently. Orange eyes never leaving blue ones, she took a slow sip, very slightly raising her head as she swallowed. After a long and tedious day, she welcomed the burn at the back of her throat. Lowering the glass to the table again, it was expertly slided back across, stopping centimeters from Caitlyn's hand. Finding her own drink, Leblanc took a mouthful of the amber liquid before holding her glass up.
"I propose a toast."
Distracted by the purple lipstick left on the rim of the glass, the Sheriff took her time in answering. "A toast? In what honour?"
"Late nights. And paperwork."
"A toast then," Caitlyn smirked, picking up her liquor after a short moment of hesitation. The two glasses met with the pleasant ring that came with the opening of an important event or one that marked the beginning of festivities. This toast was neither. It was more like a temporary truce between the two workers.
Careful to avoid the mark left by the mage, Caitlyn let the liquid slide down her throat and soon felt the warm and cozy sensation spread through her belly. Sighing, slim fingers held the top of the glass, wrist swinging it very lightly. Blue eyes lingered on the swirling whisky before glancing back to her work. Papers were still left to be done. As per her habits, the hardest section had been filled out first. The completed pile of papers had just surpassed the pile of incomplete forms in height. With a second sigh, deep blue eyes dared a glance at the clock on the wall. 3am. How had it got this late? Pushing her luck, she could wrap the rest up in an hour and a half. Possibly one. Eyeing the bottom of her glass, shoulders shrugged as she brought the rim to her lips, tilting her head back, finishing what was left. Slamming the glass down on the table harder than she had intended to, a painted hand came to rest against the side of her neck. Tilting her head, a groan escaped her lips after she heard the satisfying crack.
"Back to work already?"
Raising her head, she came to face with another uncanny smile. In contrast to how she usually acted, LeBlanc had remained mostly silent. And Caitlyn had almost forgotten about her. Almost. Tonight, the mage was uncharacteristically friendly. Understanding, even.
And once again, the Detective did not like that. The sorceress was an avid gamer, always playing at something. Tricks to cover up more tricks, there was never a time when LeBlanc acted without a having a ulterior motive. Manipulative and sly.
LeBlanc strived for her own goals. Main character or one plotting in the shadows, she always had an influence on the overall play. A mysterious personality, it was foolish to do anything close as to underestimate her. The matron had a sense of timing. And she always got what she wanted in the end.
Or that is what her senses were telling her. Apart from the Fields of Justice, the two women had never had "quality time" to determine who the other one really was. What they knew of the other only scratched the surface. The game between them was guessing who was hiding under the public mask they wore. And Caitlyn knew that LeBlanc had the upper hand. The sheriff's public face was that of a cold and indifferent Piltovian, fully dedicated to her city and duties. It was however not difficult to see what lurked under the surface. She was much more relaxed when she was in her close entourage. Despite her best efforts to stay courteous and indifferent, snarky remarks and a strange sense of humour would roll off her tongue if she was not careful.
That begged the question. Maybe LeBlanc wasn't as bad as rumours begged...
Shaking her head, the Sheriff discarded that idea. Glancing back at the clock, she frowned. Fifteen minutes past three. Had she really just blanked out for the past quarter hour?
Blinking hazily, she looked back up across the table. LeBlanc was gone.
"Looking for someone?" a silky whisper.
Almost jumping out of her chair, Caitlyn spun to her right. And once again, she was met with orange eyes. They were smiling.
Blue eyes travelled from the drink to Emilia LeBlanc. Blinking, she tried to keep the image in focus.
"What... did you put in my drink," she croaked lazily, already feeling the poison wash over her, dulling her senses.
It took another few seconds before she slipped into unconsciousness.
A few uneventful minutes ticked by, the two women the image of stillness. And then, very slowly, Evaine leaned back in her chair, her hand running through dark tresses. Rolling midnight strands around her hand, she tightened her grip and pulled harshly. That same smile had not left her lips.
"Now then..."
A.N: hello there! Versix here! For those of you who don't know, I am also the author for League of Legends: Small Moments, a short drabble collection. Now, I have not stopped writing said drabbles, nor will I any time soon. I have alot of stories planned, and that's what I do best; writing short stories.
But recently, I got prompted into writing something a bit longer. So without further ado, let me introduce this collaboration with Lunchkunn, author of Small Town Exorcist (a very interesting take on champions and a very different way of writing.)
We are maybe aiming for 5 to 6 chapters. So stay tuned and hope to see you next chapter!