[A/N:]
Phew. And so that "short action sequence" I had planned had suddenly grown three legs and a tail. But I guess it was necessary, in a way, because it was their first actual job together.
Well, let's see how they both feel about it, shall we?
When Caitlyn returned to the office, she found Vi standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed. She'd turned on the holo interface mounted to the wall and was watching the screen intently.
Caitlyn's smile broadened as she approached, "I've received good news; my superior is happy with our work. She explicitly praised your performance."
Vi didn't even seem to hear her.
Granted, Caitlyn hadn't exactly expected a joyous exclamation, but Vi's utter lack of a reaction took her by surprise. Caitlyn stepped up next to her and followed her gaze to the holo screen.
["Breaking News: Hostage-Taking at River King Bank — Seven Civilians Dead"]
A reporter was currently standing in front of the building, recounting the events that had occurred not even two hours prior. Pictures of the deceased flashed across the screen, next to a blurry visual of the Wardens clearing the street of debris.
Caitlyn's good mood instantly vanished. Her eyes went to Vi, who was rigid as a statue. Caitlyn could see her arm tensing, her fingers dug into her biceps.
They stood there, motionless, until the report was over. Caitlyn's throat was dry. Vi didn't make a move to either sit down or change the channel and it propelled Caitlyn into sudden agitation. She fired up her tech-tool and swiped a finger across the interface. The holo screen disappeared in a static fizzle.
Neither said anything for a few agonising seconds, until Vi spoke.
"Good news, huh?" she looked at Caitlyn, her eyes distant, "That doesn't look like good news to me."
Caitlyn bit the inside of her cheek. She tried to sound reasonable.
"Trust me, I understand how it feels to be in the thick of it and then watch the news afterwards. They make it sound worse than it actually is."
Vi's eyes flashed, "Worse than it is? People are dead, Caitlyn! How can it get any worse than this?"
She sounded angry, frustrated, and rightfully so.
"Yes, and we couldn't have done anything to save them. They died in the explosion, remember? It's not our fault."
Vi swore and threw her hands up in the air, "How can you say that? These people did nothing wrong and now they're dead. It's one thing if I beat the shit out of criminal scum, but these people were innocent."
"Oh, so you make that distinction?"
Caitlyn knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left her mouth, but once it was out she couldn't take it back.
Vi growled loudly and paced around the office, "It's not the same. And don't tell me I'm wrong; you shot at some of the men in there!"
She pointed an accusatory finger at Caitlyn and Caitlyn crossed her arms defensively. This argument was pointless.
"I don't apologise for what I did, Vi, and neither should you. We did our jobs and we did them well, and it sure is a tragedy that seven people have died, but think about how many people we managed to save instead."
She inclined her head, "If we hadn't done what we did, many more hostages would have been in danger of being killed. The perpetrators would have certainly used them to their advantage."
"You don't know that."
Caitlyn kept herself from scoffing, "Don't be naïve, Vi. These people had already made murderers out of themselves. Do you truly believe they'd have refrained from killing more?"
Vi's lips thinned, the tension in her shoulders was almost palpable.
"What good is this work if people still get fucked over?"
Caitlyn furrowed her brows at Vi's stubbornness. How was she supposed to give a satisfying answer to that question?
"There will always be people who get screwed over, Vi. It's impossible to please everybody, someone will always disagree. That's why we have laws to uphold. To make life safe and affordable for the majority."
Vi still wasn't convinced, "We might have saved a majority of people today, but that doesn't change the fact that seven innocent men and women are dead. How can you justify that?"
Caitlyn took a deep breath and thought about all the times she'd had to put innocents at risk for the greater good. All the times she'd had to ignore their pleas for justice and cries for vengeance in order to do what was necessary to prevent even greater peril.
It was hard, each and every time it was hard, but Caitlyn knew what she was fighting for; what she was fighting crime for. There was simply no place for sentimentality in this business, only the facts and the choices one was confronted with.
She looked at Vi. This situation, and Vi with her qualms about it, were no different.
Caitlyn deflated nevertheless.
"I can't."
She conceded, "We're doing what we can. And oftentimes it's still not enough."
Caitlyn didn't elaborate any further, and Vi seemed too worn out to press her for more. The fight had left her eyes. Vi sighed and sat back down at the desk. She hunched over, her gauntlets lay in front of her.
Caitlyn knew that continuing the debate was going to be fruitless and disheartening, so she tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. Her gaze flitted over the desk.
Various small parts and bolts were strewn around the surface, which had obviously been repurposed into a makeshift workspace for Vi. The panels covering the controls of the massive instruments were opened and Vi was altering between tweaking the system defaults and picking up the screwdriver next to her hand.
Curious, Caitlyn moved around the desk and peered over Vi's shoulder.
The gauntlets were laying powered off and harmless and only now did Caitlyn notice that the transition from knuckles to fingers was damaged. The plate strapped over the back of the hand was heavily dented and uneven; it looked like something had smashed hard against its edge.
"What are you doing?"
Vi didn't look up from her work, "Fixing my gauntlets."
"I thought you handed them over to Ramon?"
"I gave him the rest of my gear. But these? I rather take care of 'em myself," Vi shrugged and pried a bent screw out from underneath a twisted metal fragment.
She made a noise in the back of her throat, "Not that I don't trust the guy. But if I'm going to put my hands in them, I want to be sure they're not going to blow up on me or anything."
Caitlyn pulled up an eyebrow and went to rummage through a small cabinet by the wall.
"They didn't blow up in the bank," she argued.
She didn't even know why she mentioned that bit in the first place. Truthfully, Caitlyn could understand Vi's argument on a personal level. While she agreed that gear should always be maintained professionally, she would never give her rifle out of her hands.
There were situations in which her weapon was her life and it could cost Caitlyn everything if it ever malfunctioned. So she had invested the time and attention into knowing it from the ground up, with all its intricacies and parts and every little detail, in order to be able to take care of it herself.
Vi's tongue was peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she tinkered.
"True. But I reckon it was a close call."
She put the screwdriver down and waved a hand at the gauntlets.
"Just look at them. Completely trashed, and I barely even got to use them."
Caitlyn was about to argue that statement, beginning with how Vi had pummelled in more than a few faces during their operation, but her gaze fell back onto the damaged weapons and she held her tongue.
"Good point," she settled on.
Vi shrugged again, "No use worrying about it. I guess the Wardens prefer their guns and electrocutes over power gauntlets. I'm not surprised they don't know how to tweak them right."
She went back to her task, but Caitlyn's face had darkened.
She very much doubted the Agency would have even a single weapon in their arsenal not able to keep pace with the latest breakthrough in the ever-changing world of fabrication and technology. After all, the SAC was a Council-born institution and the Council was the most influential force in the galaxy.
This line of thought brought Caitlyn back to the silicon-carbide weaponry she'd been confronted with when she'd apprehended Pyke.
Same case, she concluded.
That the gauntlets would suffer this badly from what was arguably a pretty straightforward administering of a beating struck her as odd. And the way the bank's security shutters had yielded to Vi's punch made it unlikely that they'd be susceptible to regular application of force. After all, they were made to break through concrete and metal beams with both ease and efficiency.
Caitlyn was so lost in thought that she startled when Vi eventually looked up at her questioningly. She cleared her throat, preferring not to share her thoughts about Agencies and Councils, and put her own weapon on the desk.
With a pointed look at Vi, she sat down across from Vi and opened the case she'd retrieved from the cabinet. Inside lay a polishing cloth, various cleaning rods and brushes and a few small tubes of lubricant.
Vi grinned and shook her head before she bent back down over her own weapon, "Should've known you're a nerd."
Caitlyn exhaled in amusement and accepted the playful jibe.
They worked in silence for a while, each content to mind their own business and maybe mull the conversation over. Sometime during their work, Vi had gotten up and mumbled something about getting spare parts from Ramon. She'd returned a few minutes later with a large carton in her arm that contained a multitude of unused metal plates, screws and bolts, thin wires and cables.
Caitlyn took note of Vi's rather deft handiwork and found herself stealing glances more than once. It seemed Vi was proficient enough to manage both the electronic as well as mechanical components of her gauntlets without too much of a hassle.
"You seem to know what you're doing," Caitlyn said.
Vi grunted an affirmative and met her gaze briefly.
"Told you before, didn't I?"
Caitlyn could recall, yes. Vi hadn't told her anything except given a vague hint that she was familiar with gauntlet tech.
"You got your gauntlets from… a scrapper from Shurima, right?"
Vi nodded, "My first and only pair, yes."
"Have you actually been on Shurima?"
Vi was silent for a while. Her fingers stilled and she found Caitlyn's eyes once more. Caitlyn stopped cleaning her own weapon just the same, waiting. Vi was looking at her, searching for something, and Caitlyn felt a little short of breath.
"I took them off a dude after I beat him up."
The confession came easily then, and Caitlyn wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. She pulled up an eyebrow.
"So you stole them?"
Vi gave a nod and went back to her work.
"He was a douche. Picked on those weaker than him."
Caitlyn watched on as Vi fiddled with a particularly stubborn bolt. She noted how tightly Vi gripped the screwdriver in her hand and how unhappy the line of her mouth had become.
"Those people were all poor and he still preyed on them. He deserved every single punch I delivered to his stupid, son of a—"
—with a pop, the bolt came free and clanked onto the surface of the desk.
Vi picked it up in triumph, and then threw it into the carton by her feet.
"Never saw him again in the district. Good riddance, if you ask me."
Caitlyn thought the information over. Apparently, Vi did have a criminal record, but Caitlyn already knew that. She'd assumed it during their interrogation and gambled on it. Vi's unbidden confirmation of her suspicions through her reaction had opened up the opportunity Caitlyn had needed in order to win Vi over. It had been the beginning of their working relationship.
Why Vi would actually tell her the story however, was a mystery to her.
"…You do realise you just admitted your guilt to an officer of the law, right?"
It was meant as a tease and Caitlyn felt weirdly out of her element, but Vi's grin was cheeky. She peered at Caitlyn.
"Figure my record is gonna be history as soon as we're done with this," Vi said and waved the screwdriver around, "so I guess I don't care whether or not you know about that. 'sides, don't things like that expire or something?"
Caitlyn made an affirming noise, agreeing with Vi's logic, "They do."
She carefully cleaned the lenses on her rifle.
"Anything more you would like to get off your chest while you still can?"
Vi chuckled, "There're a few things I could confess."
She put the screwdriver down and leant back in her chair, counting with her fingers, "Let's see. When I was barely a teenager, I hijacked a car and got caught. They had to let me go because I wasn't accountable yet. Before that, I had a history of stealing bikes."
She absent-mindedly wiped some grease from her thumb, "After I turned sixteen, my first job was in a shady as hell tat studio in downtown Zaun. The shop got busted by Wardens a few months later, but I'd made some money and some contacts by then."
Vi proudly pointed to the cog tattooed on her neck, "Got my first tat during that time too. This one right here. Done it myself!"
A small smile tugged at Caitlyn's mouth and she studied the tattoo with admiration. Vi's enthusiasm was strangely infectious.
"I kept mostly to the streets as a kid. The orphanage wasn't a good place to hide when you'd done bad stuff. They'd always look there first and it would get not only you but the other kids in trouble as well," Vi explained cryptically and shrugged with one shoulder, "Always felt bad to drag them down with you, y'know."
"Which district was that?" Caitlyn asked.
"Edge of Factorywood."
Caitlyn's eyes widened. Factorywood was a common term for the jungle of industrial facilities and chemical stations located in the poorest parts of Zaun, Piltover's sister-state.
Zaun itself had originally been a small business town, but decades of relentless mining had eventually carved out a vast expanse of the planet's surface, turning it into a gigantic maze reaching deep into Valoran's ground.
Nowadays it was a slum city, and most of it was located beneath of what would later become the considerably wealthier Piltover.
Where Zaun was poor and dirty and discredited, Piltover was sophisticated, elegant and terrific. Caitlyn knew a great deal of the people living in Zaun had never seen real sunlight in their entire lives while the citizens of Piltover thrived under the sun as if it was their birthright to do so.
What Zaun had laboured for, Piltover had capitalised on. Caitlyn clenched her jaw.
The place where she'd found Vi in had been in a fringe sector of the city's outskirts — this one actually located on the planet's surface and close to Piltover's city borders.
That's a long way from home, Caitlyn observed.
Vi went on, "Hope House orphanage had been my home for years before I eventually left. I wasn't a complete idiot, so I managed to keep afloat on the street. After the tat studio was seized by the Wardens, I relocated closer to the surface but stayed under their radar."
She scratched at her arm, "That's when I met Davin. I stuck with him for a while and he showed me how to survive on my own."
Vi grimaced, "He was a worker in Piltover's hub district and an alright guy before I figured out what he did to the people on Shurima. One night, after he returned from one of his joyrides, I cornered him and beat him to a pulp. Took his GOLEM gauntlets and made a run for it. Never looked back."
"That was very noble of you," Caitlyn said, and even though it didn't diminish the fact that Vi had assaulted and robbed someone, she meant it.
Vi didn't meet Caitlyn's eyes as Caitlyn said it, and instead shifted in her seat. It was clear she was uncomfortable with receiving the compliment. Vi eventually found the courage to look up.
"What about you?" she asked.
Caitlyn knew she should have expected the question, but it still caught her unawares. Vi was looking at her with curious eyes though, and she found herself unable to deflect.
"My childhood wasn't as exciting as yours, I'm afraid," Caitlyn teased, "I grew up on Montressor with… my family. I left the planet after secondary school and came to Valoran for my studies. The Warden Academy had offered me a full scholarship and after I'd served my mandatory years, I decided to stay."
She knew it sounded exceptionally boring in comparison to Vi's story; her parents had always made sure to keep their daughter out of trouble.
Thinking of them still tore a hole into her chest.
Vi narrowed her eyes at Caitlyn, "Come on, that can't be it."
Caitlyn's gaze snapped back up to her from where it had fallen to the desk. Vi was smothering a smirk.
"There's gotta be more than that," she insisted, "You can't tell me you've got a clean slate."
Caitlyn exhaled in amusement and crossed her arms over her chest. Vi was clearly trying to figure her out — which was fair enough, Caitlyn supposed. She'd barely given her anything to work with, after all, whereas Vi had disclosed a part of her past that most people wouldn't be comfortable with sharing.
"No runaways? No detours into socially unacceptable circles? Or recreational breaks? Really nothing to make your parents lose sleep over?"
Vi wiggled in her seat conspiratorially, "You never even nicked some candy?"
Caitlyn had to snort and she rolled her eyes, "Well, I might have… shall we say, been a bit of a trouble maker occasionally?"
"Try me," Vi encouraged.
Caitlyn had to take a moment to think, if she was being honest. She'd never had many friends nor did she know any rowdies, so she had precious few wild stories to tell. The only escapades she could initially think of were pretty tame memories of staying up past curfew and some underage drinking.
Thinking of underage drinking, however, sparked a memory.
"I had a classmate in high school who also just so happened to be the boss bitch," Caitlyn started.
"Vicky Morado. She was the real deal; pretty, smart and her family was rich. Typical Montressor breed, narcissistic and entitled to their own opinion," Caitlyn waved a hand dismissively, "You get the idea."
Vi grimaced, "Ew, love those types."
"She was a bully too. Which isn't surprising, I suppose. Anyways, I hated her. When she wasn't harassing the others, she'd curry favour with the teachers."
Caitlyn's eyes went to the ceiling as she remembered, "We were on an excursion one week in seventh grade. It was pretty awesome, actually. Some of the boys had snuck in alcohol and we'd get drunk on cheap cider and try smoking for the first time."
She furrowed her brows and smiled at the memory. Caitlyn hadn't thought about her school days for so long that she hadn't expected to recall any of it quite so vividly.
"Vicky, ever the perfect student, threatened to rat us out. The boys and her got into a fight and we ended up blowing our cover. I was so mad at her."
Caitlyn didn't mention it, but that night had been one of the few where she'd been part of the clique. Her parents had drilled into her to always keep an easy distance, to never mingle and give anyone the impression their words were of value to her.
She'd stuck to that — and suffered for it, Caitlyn had realised in hindsight. Her classmates had never had the chance to become real, authentic friends to her because of that illusion.
That night however, alcohol and the excitement of the forbidden had helped Caitlyn with bonding. So she'd been arguably furious when Vicky Morado had come along and threatened to take this blissful sense of belonging away from her.
Caitlyn chuckled, "I snuck into her room later that night, with tape and a pair of scissors."
Vi's eyes became saucers, "Scis— Caitlyn, you did not!"
Caitlyn actually blushed and she raised a hand to cover her face, "I did. Taped her hands and mouth and cut off her beautiful, long hair."
"No fucking way!"
Vi broke out into wild laughter and Caitlyn felt her ears heating. It was so silly to still be ashamed at what she'd done when it had felt like sweet justice back then.
"Well, you can imagine the excursion was cut short. My parents were beyond mad at me. They were so embarrassed. Vicky's new haircut was the talk of the school for months after that."
Caitlyn clarified, "In my defence, it never got out that I'd been the culprit. Vicky's parents were too busy hiding their precious daughter and my parents were scrambling over themselves to cover up my guilt."
Vi was howling with laughter, "Holy shit, that story is great!"
Caitlyn's gaze landed to the desk, "Huh, ask me about it. I was grounded for weeks after that. My parents forced me to donate my piggybank money to the local hairdresser so I would learn my lesson."
Vi's eyes glittered with mischief, "So there was something to make 'em go grey about."
It was meant to keep the light-hearted mood, but Caitlyn suddenly felt drained. She drove a hand through her hair and her eyes wandered, as did her thoughts.
"My parents and I… Well, we didn't always see eye to eye."
She spoke quietly, as if she were confessing a truth that she'd kept hidden away for a good reason.
"When you grow up in a wealthy family, there are certain expectations — to have the right friends and the appropriate relationships… My parents wanted me to join them in the lab, become a brilliant scientist like them. But I wanted to be a peacekeeper."
Caitlyn threw a pointed look at Vi, "So I didn't lie about that."
Vi raised her hands, "No hard feelings."
"It wasn't something you'd do for a living when you could've just as easily sat back and live off your family's money. Chasing down criminals and getting dirt on your shoes? My social environment didn't exactly applaud the idea."
Caitlyn swallowed before she continued, "We would argue. It wasn't nice."
"Damn," Vi said, "Fighting with family always sucks. Feels like you can't win no matter what."
Caitlyn hummed in agreement. She looked down at her hands, pale fingers and black painted nails, and thought back on that day, eighteen years ago. She blinked.
"My parents died in a fire. Our house burned down while they were still in it."
Caitlyn heard the sharp intake of breath from Vi, but didn't wait to let her speak. She didn't want to hear anything that suggested pity.
"I joined the Wardens to make the galaxy a safer place. To keep other children from losing their parents."
It hit closer to home than Caitlyn would have liked, and yet a tiny voice in the back of her head told her how big of a liar she was despite having just claimed the opposite. The immaculate face of Agent Markham flashed through her mind, followed by the hunched silhouette of a haggard-looking woman sitting on a chair in an interrogation room.
Caitlyn swallowed the lump in her throat and looked up. There was a storm brewing in Vi's eyes. Caitlyn had no idea what had possessed her to even go back to these memories and share them with anyone, least of all with the one person she needed to convince of the lie.
In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd talked about any of that.
When Caitlyn finished her story, Vi whistled, but Caitlyn couldn't tell if she was impressed or wary.
"You're a woman on a mission, Cait."
And, yeah okay, she sounded impressed now.
"I'm glad we're on the same side. Wouldn't want to mess with you and paint a target on my back. Phew, I've seen the way you shoot! Whoever taught you how to use that rifle of yours must be mighty proud of you."
Caitlyn was about to correct her, that they would have been proud of her, but she stopped herself. No, it hadn't been a mistake on Vi's part. She wasn't dumb, after all. Vi was trying to make her feel better.
And really, who was Caitlyn to argue? The thought of having her father's approval, even after his passing, was quite soothing.
Caitlyn regarded Vi and only wondered if she'd have earned it by the end of this.
[A/N:]
Treat yo self to a bit of background (and world-building).
This dialogue ran away with me. I hope I didn't screw everything up.
Treasure Planet anyone? :