(A/N: The description and title leapt at me out of nowhere. I couldn't resist their potential.)
A Little Black Duress
by l.c. li
::-::
Smoky purple, along the rim of the lids. One, two, three heavy coats of mascara. One final, delectable scarlet pop of the lips, and Caitlyn was ready for business.
The Nirvana Nightclub was, unfortunately, just the sort of place she hated. Loud, gaudy, and unsettling, like a pair of neon sneakers three sizes too big. If she never had to come here again, it would be too soon. Then again, it wasn't exactly Caitlyn the Piltover Enforcer that would frequent the nightclub this particular evening, but Annalise Androvan—a sexy, sprightly young thing looking for a good drink and a good time.
"You're deep in, Cait," came a tinny voice through her earring's intercom. "We won't be able to reach you until after we can justify a warrant."
Caitlyn nonchalantly waved her hand, knowing that her accomplices were watching her. It wasn't as if she had a choice to try another method—Kerry was a slippery target, and the law always seemed to be on his side. She had to resort to the more... borderline side of the law: just so happening to go to a nightclub this evening, just so happening to collect defining evidence from Kerry while there, and calling for the Piltoverian Police truck that just so happened to be in the area—
"The subject has entered the nightclub. Proceed with caution."
Showtime, Caitlyn thought, and spun on her heel.
She waited for a few minutes after the target made his way to the bar, then slid into the adjacent seat.
"Hello, handsome," she said, allowing one side of her mouth to pull up in a smirk. "What brings you to this side of town?"
Kerry's eyes narrow. "You seen me before?" he demanded.
Trust me, I wish I hadn't. "I know a man of his own making when I see one," she said. "This doesn't look like a place you'd frequent often."
He was looking everywhere but her face. It didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. The less he looked at her face, the less likely it was that he would recognize her. Not that even she could recognize herself at the moment.
"Whaddaya want?" Kerry said finally, eyes still glinting with suspicion.
Caitlyn played with the end of his tie. "A little fun." Like seeing you behind bars. "Thought you might be interested."
He took it. Hook, line, and sinker.
::-::
"The drinks just came," Officer Livien said. "Turn on the audio bug. The interrogation starts now."
::-::
"You seem to be able to hold your liquor," Caitlyn said, eying Kerry's newly arrived glass—the one with the secret bug fixed on the bottom. "Is that the strongest they've got?"
Kerry slung his arm around her. She didn't recoil. "I'm known for my ability to hold my alcohol," he bragged, and Caitlyn barely suppressed a snort, recalling his rather unimpressive files.
"Which is it?" she asked smoothly. "Drinking to success, or drinking to failure?"
"Three guesses," Kerry said, puffing his chest and gesturing to himself with great bravado.
"So we've got ourselves a celebration," Caitlyn said slyly. "Congratulations."
He nodded, but didn't elaborate. "So, where are you from?" he said, eyes sweeping her up and down. "You don't look like you're from around here, either."
She couldn't let him keep the conversation on her. "I suppose that makes the both of us," she said, letting our her prettiest laugh. Inside, she was getting both bored and nervous. Getting Kerry to confess was proving more difficult than she'd expected. "Why don't I get a drink," she said, "since we're celebrating and all."
"Go ahead. It's on me," Kerry said with a cocky grin.
Caitlyn mindlessly ordered some generic cocktail, keeping her full attention devoted to Kerry. "So, what exactly are we celebrating?"
"Let's just say that I've got a rather significant raise," Kerry said proudly.
Caitlyn leaned forward, appearing vainly interested. "Seems like there's a good story behind that," she said. "Tell me."
But when she looked into his eyes, she saw a wall of caution that held him back. Hiding her inward grimace, she leaned in closer and whispered in his ear.
"Or, we could just stop the chit-chat and take this somewhere else," she said.
"Yeah," Kerry said. "Yeah, that might be better."
::-::
"This is not good," Officer Livien grimaced. "We're not getting anything out of him. Let's call her back."
Supervisor Aron fixed her with a steady look. "You know Officer Caitlyn the best. Is this something she can do?"
Livien stared at the nightclub cameras, watching Caitlyn play with Kerry's hair. "Yes," she said finally. "Yes, it is."
::-:
Despite Kerry's reply, he didn't move from his seat. Caitlyn knew he wouldn't. Men like him never did.
"What's wrong, big boy?" she said. "Something bothering you?"
She pretended to sip at her cocktail. She knew that, psychologically, this would prompt Kerry to sip his own drink—which he did.
"Bothering me," he repeated.
She sipped again. He followed her.
"What would make you think that?" he said unsteadily. "Nothing's bothering me."
"Then why is your glass empty?" she observed.
Kerry stared blankly at his recently imbibed drink, lips parted slightly.
"Tell me," she said coaxingly. "I love a good story."
Kerry's eyes lifted to her face, blurry from alcohol. "I can trust you, right?" he said.
Caitlyn rose an eyebrow. "Are you asking whether you're capable of trusting me, or whether you should?" she said plainly.
Kerry's mouth fixed into a grin. "Good answer," he said.
Somehow, she knew that it was the right thing to say. If she had said 'yes,' he probably would only grow more suspicious of her.
"It's 'bout the promotion," Kerry said. "It was a really good one, that promotion. Really, really good. Really good…"
She was so close that she could taste victory on the tip of her tongue. "Congratulations."
"No," he slurred, shaking his head repeatedly. "Wasn't even me. Was for ol' Holden, you see, but Holden was 'bout the kick the bucket, so he wouldn't've appreciated it as much as a… a fresher face, so to speak…"
"Makes sense," she said, surreptitiously refilling his glass. "What's an old man going to do with a raise? Go to a better retiring center?"
"'S what I was saying," Kerry said, downing his newly filled drink in one gulp. "Ol' Holden, though… he didn't take it so well."
"I presume you could get him out of the way, capable man that you are."
Kerry's mouth lifted into a smile. "Looks like you got some brains to go with those looks of yours, Miss…?"
She held off his implied question. "So, how'd you do it?"
He sagged against the bar counter, grinning proudly. "Got him alone. I worked hard, you see, so everyone trusts me."
"Smart man," she said. Inside, she was cheering. Kerry's files had said he was terrible with alcohol—a fact that she was currently witnessing firsthand.
He shrugged as she quietly poured him another shot. "I didn't do anything extreme," he said. "Just talked to him for a bit. There's some gossip flying 'round saying that I killed the man, but I never laid a finger on him." He spread his arms open. "C'mon, do I look like the kind of person who'd make a murderer?"
"No." You look worse.
"'S what I thought." He took another swig. "So me, I just take ol' Holden out for a little chat on the balcony outside his office, see."
"His office?" Holden Fielding's body had been found in the parking lot…
"Yeah, his office." Kerry's words were heavily strung together with alcohol. "Office, office… I mean, the balcony to his office, heh. Too suspicious if I killed him inside his office, y' see…"
"You mean, you did kill him?" Caitlyn said.
Kerry absently waved his hand. "Kill, didn't kill… It's all the same, ain't it? Atoms… atoms all actin' together…" He started giggling uncontrollably.
He's becoming a nutter. I have to close this out.
"Tell me," she said, injecting some urgency in her tone. Subtlety no longer mattered—just efficiency. "What did you do to Holden?"
"Got him to fall off the balcony," Kerry crowed. "Found out that his granddaughter was comin' to meet him, see. Pretended like she came early, was walkin' through the parking lot… Made a big ruckus when a car passed by, like she'd been run over. Ol' Holden went in'na panic and leaned over to look for her. Then… whoops, he slipped!" He started giggling again.
"Slipped?" Caitlyn prompted.
"Suddenly found that the floor under his feet was a bit slipp'ry," he drawled. "Slippy-slipper-slide, allllll the way down…"
"What did he slip on?" Caitlyn pressed.
Kerry leaned closer to her, almost falling over in the process. "I knew this kinda thing'd happen, so I brought some oil, see, but you didn't hear it from me." He tried a wink, but it only looked like he was blinking sleepily. "Didn't even have to touch him."
Caitlyn settled back, allowing herself to smile. "Thank you," she said softly, "for that wonderful story."
Kerry swayed precariously on his stool, an idiotic grin fixed on his own face. "Anythin' for you, Miss…?"
"Caitlyn," she said sweetly. "The Sheriff of Piltover."
Kerry stared at her, like he hadn't quite understood what she'd just said. Then his face turned jet-white, and the bar exploded into action.
::-::
"Deploy Unit 12-B IFO Nirvana," Officer Livien barked. "12-A, get eye on S/V. 12-C, cover for Caitlyn. She's compromised."
As the three teams burst out of the large police truck and flocked to the bar, Supervisor Aron cleared his throat. "It appears that your faith was not misplaced, Officer Livien," he said.
Officer Livien ducked out of the car, sending a rare smile at Supervisor Aron. "Caitlyn told me, sir, that she has a certain life saying: 'A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.'"
::-::
Kerry staggered towards the entryway in a panic, clawing at the handles of its double doors. Caitlyn didn't even bother moving from her spot at the bar; he was in no condition to viably escape, especially with the dozen members of the Piltoverian Police Force just outside.
Kerry didn't even get three feet.
"Kerry Falkin, you are being arrested under suspicion of premeditated murder," Officer Livien said, pushing her way in front of the squad. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
She put a hand on his back and not-so-gently shoved him face-first into the police truck, a hint of a sadistic smile on her face.
"You can't—you can't do this!" Kerry said wildly. "I deman' to see my lawyer!"
"You can do that at the station," Caitlyn said icily. "Get into the car, Falkin."
His eyes bore into her. "You're not…! You said…!" He struggled against Officer Livien's iron grip. "You lied!"
"In other news, grass is green," Caitlyn said. "The car."
As Kerry appeared to be frozen solid, Officer Livien forced him into the seat and slammed the door. Supervisor Aron turned his attention on Caitlyn, one corner of his mouth pulling up.
"Good work once again, Officer Caitlyn," he said. "The… creativity… of your methods never ceases to amaze me. I believe that you are the first officer to successfully implement the honeypot technique."
Caitlyn smiled. "You know what I like to call it," she said.
Supervisor Aron raised an eyebrow.
"A little black duress." Caitlyn winked at him, then turned to Kerry. "I look forward to the court case."
Kerry only stared at her, his mouth agape, as if the ground had fallen out from beneath him.
"Evening, everyone," Caitlyn said, nodding her head to each officer around her. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow."
And she click-clacked out of the Nirvana Nightclub parking lot, somehow strutting in a way that made nine-inch stilettos look as professional as close-toed loafers.
(A/N: A writer's greatest tool is creativity. ...And loving reviewers.
If you guys are interested in my creative process and "behind-the-scenes" notes of how I wrote this fic, please check out my blog at lcliwrites dot wordpress dot com.)