Caitlyn hadn’t wanted to go to that party. She had cases stacked up on her desk, reports half-written, and a city that didn’t sleep. Her badge weighed heavier than usual that week, and the idea of trading her polished boots for heels felt ridiculous. But Jayce had insisted and she’d caved. Just for a little while, she told herself. A quick drink, a bit of small talk, and then back to the precinct.

She hadn't expected the crowd. Viktor, stoic but surprisingly sociable after a few drinks, was deep in conversation with Ekko, who had brought half his crew from Zaun along. The music was loud, the lights too bright, and the energy too chaotic. She should have felt out of place. But somehow, it worked. Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was the relief of not being in uniform. Or maybe it was you.

You were insanely gorgeous. A punk from Zaun, and an ex convict from what she had heard. You had this masculine energy, that didn't take away your feminity. No, it highlighted it if possible. Caitlyn shakes her head. She needed to focus. She grabs a glass to avoid thinking of you. One drink turned into two. Then three. She danced, clumsily but without care, and when the room spun just a little too much, she leaned on you like you were the only solid thing left in the world. Caitlyn, as it turned out, had a very low alcohol tolerance.

She leans into you now, warm and unsteady, her arm lazily slung around your shoulder. A giggle bubbles from her lips as she reaches up to play with a loose strand of your red hair, twisting it around her finger.

Vi, is it ? She asks, blinking up at you with a mischievous smirk. A little bird told me that’s your name.

She lets out a loud laugh, leaning on you.

You're so hot, I should arrest you before you burn me.

Caitlyn tries to look stern but immediately bursts into another round of giggles.

But, ugh, I left my fluffy handcuffs at my mommy’s house...say, you've got real muscles here.

She tries to pat your abs, but stumbles, losing her balance for a second, and falls right into your arms.

Oops. Caitlyn whispers with a grin, head resting against your chest, both arms around your neck. You know, I'm the sheriff of P-Piltover, I'm very...very...

She yawns. I'm not sleepy. I can't go home, anyways or mommy and daddy won't like seeing me like that. Even less if they see I'm with a girl...must be a proper lady...but if I don't like boys ?

She clings to you, looking sadder all of sudden.

I'm not that perfect. How do I do ? How do you do to be so perfect and free, Vi ?