Sunburn
When brainstorming ideas for an appropriate team-building exercise, a game of rugby was not what Caitlyn had in mind. Which is why it came as a shock to her when it was Commander Grayson herself who suggested it, after the captain had scheduled a meeting with her to gain permission to take the trainees for an off-site session.
Caitlyn knew the basic rules of rugby, of course. Going to grammar school made sure of that; the sport was worshipped like a saint and pushed onto anyone who was over the height of 6 foot by the age of 13. If you didn’t play rugby, or hockey, or you weren’t at a similar intellect to Einstein by the time exams rolled around, you were ignored for the most part.
Caitlyn had played for a while. Not that she had much say in the matter. Her height had made her an easy target for the team coaches, and being the pushover she was at that age, she agreed to come along to a few training sessions and matches.
A brutal dumptackle and a shattered collarbone later, it was safe to say the captain had no intention of returning to the sport ever again in her life.
Commander Grayson’s office was small, seemingly like every other room on the base, but it was oddly homely. Comforting and welcoming to anyone who entered. Dark oak bookcases lined either side of the room, chocabloc to the brim with miscellaneous aviation books and documentations, spanning from regimental history to planespotters’ guides. A single framed picture of Grayson’s graduate class from flight school was hung onto the wall by the door below the flag of Piltover and the crest of the Royal Piltovian Air Force. Two maroon leather armchairs were positioned either side of Grayson’s single desk, where the wooden surface was adorned with a small ashtray, various files, a name plaque and a well-detailed model of an F35 Lightning.
When Caitlyn pushed open the door and snapped to attention, the smell of stale air and old cigarettes hit her like a brick wall. She ignored the putrid scent and brought her right hand up in a solid salute. “Commander,” she said curtly.
“Captain.” Grayson waved her in before taking another huff of the delicate cigarette hanging out of the corner of her lips. She didn’t return the salute; she was sat down, and her beret was folded neatly on the desk in front of her. Caitlyn shut the door behind her as Grayson continued, “Please, take a seat. You may remove your headdress.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” The captain slid her cover off of her head and tucked it into her back pocket before sliding into the armchair in front of Grayson. She watched as a tendril of smoke spilled up into the air from the lit cherry of the commander’s cigarette.
Grayson ashed the tip before turning her attention to the captain. “So,” she drawled lazily, “you want to take your kids out for a trip to the park.”
Caitlyn knitted her eyebrows in confusion. “No, ma’am, that’s not-“
“Sarcasm, Kiramman,” Grayson interrupted with a small smile. “You think a team-building exercise would be good for them.” Leaning back in her chair, the commander folded her great arms over her chest. “I don’t see why you need to talk to me about it, though.”
“I thought I may need permission.” A lump bobbed down the captain’s throat as she swallowed. “And I’m also not too sure what a good exercise would be.”
The other officer hummed, threading her fingers together and resting them on her desk. Her cigarette stood up to attention as she took another puff before drooping down again in a lazy dangle.
If there was any officer on base, in fact in the entire air force that Caitlyn had the most respect for, it was Commander Grayson. She was a seasoned fighter pilot veteran, with a distinguished military record, and had been one of the founding officers of the Top Gun programme. Her escapades were the stuff of legend amongst lower-ranking officers and regular enlisted, and her reputation preceded her. Although her gaze seemed unreadable and sometimes bored in most circumstances, her eyes and the creases around her eyelids harboured a wealth of experience and knowledge many pilots would only scratch the surface of in their careers.
Finally, Grayson broke the silence she’d created. “Rugby,” she said simply.
“Rugby?”
“Rugby.”
“I feel as though that would create more problems than it would solve, respectfully, Commander,” Caitlyn huffed.
“Perhaps.” Grayson tilted her head to the side and nodded. “But you need to remember what we are and who we are, Kiramman. There’s no beating around the bush: we are trained to be killers. To be aggressive. To work together. A sport such as rugby may be barbaric, but there are plenty of lessons to be taught that can be applied to flying. Teamwork, strength, tactical thinking, the list goes on.”
The captain exhaled quietly out of her nose. She folded her hands over her lap and nodded briskly. “And will I be expected to teach them the rules, Commander?”
“No. I’ve read their files; both Vanderson and Talis played before joining, as did Lanes.”
Of course Violet played rugby, Caitlyn thought to herself. Of course it would be her.
“Let them teach the rules to their team,” she continued. “It’ll be a good test of their leadership capabilities as well.”
The other officer opened her mouth to protest, but Grayson quickly cut her off. “Will that be all, Captain?”
You’re asking a group of trainees already butting heads with each other to pummel one another into the ground and be fine with it. Do you not see the issue? Caitlyn wanted to say.
Instead, she simply replied, “No, ma’am,”, offered the commander a salute and exited the office.
***
Despite Vi’s protests, Ekko had insisted on driving them both to the off-site training session, simply stating that she “ferries them around enough in the air” and that it was his turn. Although Vi didn’t mind that much; he made a good point, and it meant she didn’t have to abstain if the activity involved alcoholic beverages after.
Caitlyn had emailed them all a location and a time to be at on a Friday afternoon, instructing them all to attend in their PT gear and to bring suitable gym shoes. They had all been directed to one of Piltover’s many beaches, only this time it was a strip owned by the Royal Piltovian Air Force and only accessible by actively serving men and women. The sun was still beating down in all its glory and Ekko had cranked the air conditioning up to its maximum setting within his beaten-up Ford Focus.
“So,” he trailed off, tapping his index finger against the steering wheel as he drove down the highway. For such a wonderful sunny afternoon, it was practically deserted. “About the captain.”
“What about her?” Vi blurted. Her defences shot up in an instant.
“What do you think she’s setting up for us?”
“I think I like her.”
The words tumbled from Vi’s parted lips before she could even comprehend what she was saying. The car fell deathly silent, the only sound echoing through being that of wind whizzing past and wheels ripping up the road.
“Oh, Vi.” Ekko huffed a heavy sigh, his chest shuddering as he did so. “For how long?”
“Since I saw her. I think,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and slinking back into her seat in defeat.
Ekko dropped his tone, as if he was scared anyone else could be listening. “You need to be careful, man. She’s still our captain,” he said lowly, before adding with a smirk, “Unless you’re into that.”
Vi didn’t respond. Which only riled Ekko up further.
“Oh my God, you are into that.” Her wingman barked with laughter, shooting a shit-eating grin across to her.
Vi scowled back. “Keep your eyes on the road, asshat,” she grumbled. Not because she was concerned for their safety, but because she didn’t want Ekko to see the violent crimson tainting her cheeks.
He tutted mockingly and shook his head, flicking his hands around as he spoke while keeping the other on the steering while. “Do you think she likes you back?”
“I don’t know,” Vi admitted. And she despised not knowing. “If I’m wrong, or I’ve got the wrong idea, it’s a Court Martial. But if I’m right, it’s also a Court Martial if we don’t declare it. Rock and a hard place.”
“Rock and a hard place,” Ekko repeated, before groaning exasperatedly. “God, Vi, why couldn’t you pick a normal girl to like? You’ve got plenty of options, I’m sure-”
“Caitlyn is a normal girl.”
“She’s the captain of a programme we only got on because we fucked up big-time,” he retorted, shooting her a deadpan look. “I meant, like, a girl from Tinder or something.”
“I don’t want a girl from Tinder. I want Caitlyn.”
It wasn’t just a confession to Ekko; it was a confession to herself, too.
“Have you fucked yet?” The question came so effortlessly from his lips, as if it was something he’d been wanting to ask since the captain and the lieutenant first met.
“Don’t be so crude,” Vi scolded before relaxing. “And no. We haven’t even kissed.”
“But there’s been instances where you’ve had the opportunity to kiss each other?” He cocked an eyebrow suspiciously.
“A couple. She came to speak to me after the Maddie situation. And stayed behind when I fell asleep after the Doc’s lesson.”
Ekko groaned. Again. “You dirty dogs,” he mumbled breathlessly as he took a slip road off of the highway.
They stayed in silence for the rest of the drive.
***
After “borrowing” some cones and a rugby ball from the base’s sports storerooms, Caitlyn had headed down to the beach earlier than the formation time in order to set up for the day’s event.
She could have chosen a field or patch of grass for the trainees to play on; it probably would have been easier that way. But Caitlyn knew how beautiful the Piltovian beaches were as summer approached, and it was only fair to let the rest of the class experience it, too. Bleach white sand stretched beyond view either length of the beach, with crystal clear cerulean waves lapping at the shore quietly.
By the time the Top Gun class had begun trickling down from the car park across the dunes, Caitlyn had already set up a small rectangular-shaped playing field for them marked out by the bright orange cones she’d taken earlier. As requested, each pilot had turned up wearing the correct uniform: perfectly pressed light blue T-shirts tucked neatly into black shorts for the pilots of the Royal Piltovian Air Force, and a ragtag assortment of grey T-shirts and sleeveless vests adorned with “ZAUN NAVY” in bold dark blue lettering for the pilots from the other half.
Caitlyn placed the rugby ball in the centre of the pitch before walking over to the semi-circle of officers now formed. After a quick headcount to confirm everyone was in attendance, she began her explanation.
“Thank you all for coming on such a lovely day; I’m sure you’d all prefer to be in a beer garden somewhere and not engaging in ‘forced fun’.”
A few aviators giggled.
“However, I recently received some feedback that there are some disconnections between your class. I understand why this is the case; we come from different aerial branches from different countries, and many of you had not met each other before coming to the programme.”
“In light of this, we’ll be conducting a team-building exercise in the form of a game of rugby.”
There were a few cheers and whoops of joy from the pilots. Caitlyn’s eyes settled on Vi’s instantly, who had a huge knowing grin on her face.
“Some of you have played before, some of you have not,” the captain stated. “It will be the job of those of you who know the rules to teach the game to those who do not. Talis and Vanderson will be our team captains, and we’ll be playing shirts versus skins. If anyone has an issue with that, please take it up with management, because I do not care.”
Vi’s hand shot up instantly. The other was already working at the hem of her vest. “Dibs on skins!” she bellowed, ripping her top off and throwing it onto the floor. “I want Ekko and Loris.”
“Fine.” Caitlyn glanced to Jayce, who was rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Talis, you can take Maddie and Mel. Rest of you, pick a team, and Talis starts.”
“No fair,” Vi grunted in protest, but trudged over to her side of the pitch nonetheless.
As the pilots each took to their respective ends of the pitch, the captain smiled slyly to herself, slipping back into the beach chair she’d brought for herself and sliding a pair of sunglasses onto her face.
With one last sadistic smirk Jayce picked the ball up and kicked it down to the other end of the pitch.
***
Caitlyn gave herself a pat on the back for remembering to pack her trusty aviator sunglasses with her.
Not just because the sunrays were relentless and blinding without, but because it meant she could ogle at Vi whilst having her direction of vision obscured by their dark tint.
When Vi had called playing as the skins, the captain fought to hide the smile on her face. The sight of the lieutenant, sweaty and topless and smirking with those stupidly perfect straight white teeth, was something Caitlyn was most eager to see – and something she’d thought about multiple times with her hands down her pants ever since the two first met.
With her bare back almost entirely exposed, Caitlyn was now able to see much more of the back tattoo Vi had that had sparked her curiosity ever since she saw the trailings of it beneath her sleeves. Thick glistening muscles rippled beneath the gorgeous design, which was industrial and almost steampunk, with large cogs and plumes of smoke sprawling across the expanse of skin. A chunk of the ink was still hidden by the sports bra Vi wore, and while Caitlyn was thankful that she’d elected to not go fully topless on a pretty exposed beach, she was determined to see the full design one day.
And Caitlyn always got what she wanted.
She’d barely been paying attention to the main spectacle of the day: the reason she’d brought them all here. The rugby game. Team-building. Of course.
She recollected her thoughts from the dark and dirty place they were wandering off to onto a much more professional train and looked between the players as they carried on.
It was clear who had played rugby and who hadn’t before, although to Caitlyn’s pleasant surprise, each pilot was giving it their all in every single run. Laughing amongst themselves whenever someone fell over or got tackled, slapping each other on the back when the teams scored, getting up and dusting each other off.
At one point, Vi landed a particularly gruesome tackle into Maddie, who went spinning off her feet and landed like a sack of potatoes. Vi was the first of the two to get up, and glared down at the shorter officer as she did so.
Every fibre in Caitlyn’s body tensed up as she prepared to rush the pitch to break up the impending fist fight.
Instead, however, Vi extended a hand and helped her to her feet, offering a curt nod before jogging back to her own side of the pitch.
The captain’s heart warmed just a bit more.
The game went on, and Caitlyn quickly lost track of who was winning and who was losing. But it also looked like the players had forgotten the scores, too. In that moment, the group could have been passed off as just a couple of friends who just wanted to play games together and had nothing else in common.
After another reset, Jayce had taken the ball from Mel and was sprinting down the side of the pitch that Caitlyn was observing from. She watched intensely as Vi bent down ever so slightly, preparing herself for a tackle.
Jayce brought his left knee into the air with a cackle and slammed it back down again, changing direction before Vi could realise, goose-stepping around her while she floundered in the sand all too late.
Moments later, an off-balance, hot sweaty body barrelled into Caitlyn and sent them both flying back on her chair into the sandy ground.
Vi landed in a crumpled heap atop of her, right arm pinned between both their stomachs. She slammed her left palm into the ground as she tried to get up, their limbs entangled and struggling against each other.
“Vi, if you just-“
“No, I’ll go-“
“Get your hand out of my-“
A raucous of laughter erupted from the other trainees as they spectated the pair desperately trying to untangle from each other. Vi had landed right between Caitlyn’s legs, and each miniscule movement was sending a pool of heat into her stomach which dripped relentlessly further down.
Eventually Vi got herself up and brushed the sand from her shorts, followed swiftly by Caitlyn who jutted her sunglasses straight onto her face to mask her saucer-wide pupils. Ekko pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head at them both.
“Right!” Caitlyn boomed, swallowing a hard lump in her throat. “Right. Um, I think that’s enough excitement for today, yes?”
The few aviators who weren’t still clutching their sides with laughter nodded in agreement.
“Very well then,” she retorted, ever the professional. “You’re all dismissed. Uh, well done, I suppose.”
Vi made a beeline straight for Ekko, grabbing his arm and dragging him back to his own car, hoping that the blush attacking her neck could be passed off as sunburn.