The story ends where it began, that is to say, Sheriff Caitlyn's office. The moment had the same sunset, the same fancy desk, the same sheriff, and the same enforcer, though not without key differences. For one thing, Vi was not filling out paperwork, but rather dropping it off. Well, more like a single sheet, leaf thin, fragile in her bruiser's hands. She is biting her tongue today, not intoxicated by the scent of her superior's shampoo, not falling into Caitlyn's control again. Vi is her own woman.
That is what she tells herself as she stands, slightly hunched, over the desk. One arm slacks freely, while the other holds the sheet firm to the tabletop. Sunshine bounces off her pink hair, turning it auburn, turning it the moment serene-
But boss lady is not amused.
"Vi, what is this?" Caitlyn asks with narrowed eyes. Her lips flatten together, her chin raises into the air, just slightly, and her brows furrow into something disapproving. Her iconic top hat sits unused on the desk, to Vi's left and Caitlyn's right. The sun does wonders for her too, especially in the way it gleams off her exposed shoulders. They look soft, smooth, and as though they could fit in Vi's hands like puzzle pieces, and then she could just pull Caitlyn closer and-
"Easy there, old girl." She tells herself, and a slow breath out of "O" shaped lips to regain composure, and then
"I'm requesting a sector change." Perfect. Practiced. And Vi even managed to keep eye contact. She refused to falter.
"I can see that." Replied the sheriff coolly. "What I'm asking is why." And there was no question about it, judging by the clipped tone.
Vi purses her lips, and then shoots out "Emotional distress." In a rolled up breath.
The sheriff raises an eyebrow. "Emotional distress?" She asks unbelieving. It even sounds a little taunting.
"Swhat I said." Vi replies.
The room quiets then, save for the ticking of a clock. It rings in both of their ears, perhaps counting down their last moments together.
The sheriff closes her eyes, going deep into thought, leaving the enforcer at the mercy of her own thoughts and infatuation.
Finally, the boss lady takes her chin of her bridge of fingers and says "Would you like to talk about it?"
Vi chokes on her own spit.
She hacks and pounds her chest, the thumping drowning out the sound of ticks and tocks. When she recovers herself, she has to look into Caitlyn's widened eyes.
"What?" She coughs out, hoping for clarity.
A couple of blinks, and Caitlyn's face is composed again. She repeats "I asked if you would like to talk about your distress? I would like to avoid the trouble of filing this if I can." The two stare awkwardly, so she continues "And besides, moving away isn't the best way to deal with these kinds of issues."
She then makes an expectant expression. If there were ever a time to confess, it would be now.
"No." Responds the enforcer, and then swallowing to abolish the drywall of her throat, "I don't wanna talk about it."
"I see." Replies the sheriff, and she closes her eyes again, returning to deep thought. The bends of her delicate index finger makes contact against her soft lips. It isn't a long trance, but in the moment it feels like one.
"That is…" She searches for the right word "unfortunate. It was a pleasure and great benefit to have you here, but if this area causes you distress, I can't hold you here." With that, the boss lady reaches for a black pen that can write curves like waves, and immediately goes to work on the transfer request.
"You may leave." She suggests, and Vi is only happy to oblige. She gets up and walks out the door, closing it behind her with a soft crick, forgetting the obligatory "Thank you".
Once she was through the doorway, Vi exhales tension, getting used to the new air. It's like a different world out here, as where The Sheriff's office was quiet (save for an agonizing clock), the rest of the office was a blur of noise. People chatted with each other, with phones, with Excuse Me's as they shoveled past each other with stacks of paperwork. Phones rang and were put on hold, bored officers clicked their pens on and off, and the seniors were laid back enough to even make drum beats with their palms.
Vi started in the direction of her locker to begin packing. She wasn't specific on where she wanted to be transfer, but it would be guaranteed that whoever her new captain was, they would be much less distracting. This was her marching, conquering the feelings that were holding her back. This was her moving on, getting closure.
So why did it feel like running away?
With each step, her legs and chest feel heavier. She feels like she's leaving craters with each step, and her feet move less and less apart until she halts completely. Whatever this feeling was, it wasn't right. It wasn't Vi.
She berates herself as she gives a long sigh. Where did all that bliss go from the night before? What happened to all that relief, her prospect of freedom? Were they simply the arbitrary rantings of her upset mind, the ramblings of a tired night- burned away by the morning's sun?
Crushing her fingers with her thumb, the enforcer turns on her heels and marches back. This earns a few confused stares, but she tries not to let them burn. She turns the knob and almost barges in, but stops herself.
"Keep your cool." She mentally repeats, until she releases her vice grip on the sheriff's door and knocks (as) softly (as she can) in single clear notes, three times. "Come in." says the lady on the other end, and Vi does just that.
Looking up momentarily, Caitlyn sees it is her enforcer once again. "Oh, Vi? How convenient, I've just finished filling out your form, could you hand it to Clark please?"
Being here again, Vi's nerves are shot. She stands there staring at her fellow officer and the documents with unfocused eyes. The walls seem to be closing in. She wants to break free. She wants to breathe, but this isn't something she can just punch. She needs to punch through life, to face this, to not run off like a brat.
"Actually, about that request" snakes it way from shaky lips.
"Oh?" Asks the other with a tilted head. It makes her look so goddamn pretty.
"I" And she lets it hang in the air, keeping the both of them waiting. Words, finding them, saying them was never for her. The walls seem so close now.
"You" She chokes out, oddly hesitant for a woman of her physique. She takes a quick breath and slams her hand on the closest wall demanding the world to stop, and the control helps her cope.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" She angrily breathes out.
And though her eyes were closed she could feel the room return to a normal state. When her eyes do open, she no longer feels afraid, it's as if she never was. For how long had she made it a bigger thing than it was?
"I'd love to." Comes a firm response from a blank face, which shifts into a polite smile. The enforcer returns it with a slightly wider, slightly more cocky one, though it fits her well.
"Pick you up at 8 tomorrow?" She asks, not in disbelief, but with a natural confidence that she doesn't know why she ever discarded.
"Sure, and Vi? What took you so long?"
The woman in question reached for the transfer request and tore it in two, and then in four.
"Nothin special. Emotional distress."
A/N: That's it, that's the end, and first off I'd like to apologize for taking so long. Writing this was a valuable learning experience, like for example to have a clear idea of how to end a story, or else I'll keep winging it and dragging it out, and then not knowing what to do and leaving it on hiatus for several months.
I also learned that one-shot on one-sided attraction is fine, but to have a story devoted to angst? That's just boring! And lazy of me for relying on a few key emotions for several chapters, I mean, that's just horrible of me.
But for those of you who enjoyed the story, and kept up to this point, I thank you all.