Chapter Text
Caitlyn sits on the bed with a sigh. For a change of scenery, it felt just as empty as the penthouse she’d come from. It hadn’t been a choice, really. A few days of mandatory leave forced upon her and she’d felt like the walls were closing in. So she’d fled far enough that she couldn’t work even if she wanted to. She only had to be here for five days. She could find something to occupy her time, surely.
She tries not to think of a time when she’d had a better work-life balance. Oil and water, Cupcake. It was never gonna work.
.
It was late when Vi got to where she’d be waiting out the holiday. She hurriedly punched in the door code with stiff, nearly frozen fingers. She cursed the stupid bus once again for not turning the heat up. And for not having a stop closer to this place.
There was heat in the rental, thank fuck. Vi dropped her bag by the door and went to search for the kitchen. Maybe the host had left it stocked.
.
Even off duty, Caitlyn was not unalert. Of course she heard someone enter the property and move through the house. She crept downstairs, determined to get the jump on this intruder. She caught sight of them and had them on the ground within seconds, accomplishing just that. Her sense of accomplishment died as those familiar pale blue eyes glared up at her. “You?” she exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”
If possible, Vi glared harder. “Here, where this rich mongoose just tackled me to the ground?”
“Mongoose?” Caitlyn took offence. “What did you do to your hair? You look like an angry oil slick.” Caitlyn wonders how long it’s been that color. They haven’t seen each other in a year, now. “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”
Vi sits up, shrugging Caitlyn off. “Renting. Didn’t know it was a crime now.”
“I’m renting,” Caitlyn argues, confused. “I’ve booked this place for the week.”
“Are you sure you’re in the right house, Cupcake?” That’s what makes them both pull out their phones. Verify. Compare. Somehow, they’ve both rented the same Airbnb.
.
Caitlyn doesn’t waste any time before she’s calling the property owner to complain. And then calling the booking site to complain. By the sound of things, it’s not accomplishing much. Vi hangs back, wondering if she should just leave. Its late, though, and where would she even go? The buses aren’t running. She doesn’t want to spend her hard-earned money on another rental. If anyone leaves, it should be Caitlyn. But that would just feel like more charity. Fuck, they both have to stay.
She doesn’t bother to inform Caitlyn of this revelation. Instead, she resumes her journey to the kitchen. Their host better have booze for making them put up with this. Vi hates that she’s thinking of herself and Caitlyn as a unit again.
Caitlyn doesn’t join her until she’s two cups in. “This place only has one bedroom,” she announces, like she’s the fucking queen or something.
Vi holds back a sigh. “I’ll take the couch,” she offers. The booze makes it easier.
“Can’t,” Caitlyn denies. “It’s a loveseat.” Vi tells herself that she hates the way Caitlyn says loveseat with her stupid hot accent.
“The floor then,” Vi counters, but she isn’t serious. Caitlyn probably knows it too.
.
Caitlyn goes through her nighttime routine, trying not to think about sharing a bed with Vi. She really should just leave. Go home to her empty penthouse. But then she would have to face the Sherrif’s disappointment. Not to mention Jayce if he found out why she left. Part of her still can’t believe Vi is here.
Vi is already in bed, pointedly facing away from her. Caitlyn can’t bring herself to do the same as she settles in. There are so many things she could say, but nothing that would be enough. That Vi would accept. In her tank top, Vi’s back tattoo is on display. Caitlyn falls asleep tracing the cogs with her eyes.