The Interview
Caitlyn had tried her best to prepare for the reality of potentially seeing Violet Vanderson again for the first time in eighteen months today. But all of her mental gymnastics was thrown out of the window when they locked eyes.
In that moment, she felt 18 again, and was thrown back to that stupid fucking house party where they’d first met.
By Vi’s shocked expression, she knew the other girl felt the same way, too. A deep pang of guilt stabbed at Caitlyn’s stomach, realising once again she’d ignored the other girl for an even longer period of time, and wondered if there was even a relationship left between them to salvage.
If she was being honest with herself, Cait was running from her feelings. As always.
Her last night with Vi had been perfect, and their intimacy had been just what Caitlyn had imagined so many times before. She wanted to reach out to Vi so many times, check in on her, see how she was doing, but she couldn’t ever bring herself to. The animal part of her cerebral was reared back on its hind legs and fending off anything that would get in the way of Caitlyn’s career- including relationships, but specifically including Vi.
“You’re a detective,” Vi said bluntly. She silently slid into the plastic chair across the table from Cait.
“You’re a pilot,” the other office responded curtly, eyeing Vi’s uniform.
Vi exhaled through her nose and leant back on her chair. She crossed her arms over her chest, staring down at the cool metal table in front of them both.
Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice the way Vi’s shoulders bulged through the tight flight suit she wore, fabric rippling atop her solid muscles.
Stop it.
Reaching across the table, Cait flicked a button on the small audio recorder she’d brought, and a red light began to flash. She tucked her chair in and looked directly at Vi. “I’d like to record our sessions for future reference in my investigation. Do you give consent to your voice being recorded?”
Vi grunted a response.
“Use your words, please.”
“Sure, I give consent,” Vi drawled. A suggestive smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Caitlyn felt a sudden blush creep up her neck and was thankful that the recording was audio only. “Please state your rank, full name, and occupation.”
“Lieutenant Violet Vanderson. Helicopter pilot, Air Corps.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” The detective emphasised Vi’s rank specifically when speaking. “I’ve spoken to your wingman Lieutenant Lanes, and he’s given his own recollection of events, however I’d like to hear your side of the story. From when you first arrived into Noxus.”
Violet leant forward, her elbows resting on the table, eyes shifting as she recalled what happened on the flight earlier. “Sure. Um, we flew to the exfil, and Ekko- sorry, Lieutenant Lanes- radioed to check with MC that the co-ordinates were correct, because we didn’t see any emergency flares.”
“Would you have normally seen emergency flares for a mission like this?” Caitlyn asked.
“For an exfil mission?” Vi scoffed. “Of course. That’s when we knew something was up, because you’re taught to fire off a flare as soon as you see a friendly bird, but there was nothing. So, we landed, and went to look for ourselves.”
The detective was scribbling down notes as the pilot continued to speak, glancing up every so often. “And what did you see after leaving the helicopter?” she quizzed.
“Bodies.” Vi cleared her throat and shuffled awkwardly in her chair. “I thought they were just piles of clothes or rags at first, but they were dead bodies in army uniform. Our army uniforms. Lieutenant Lanes went to check if any of them still had a pulse, and that’s when we were attacked.”
Silence settled between them briefly. The pilot begun to fidget with her hands, running fingertips across the hard callouses on her pads.
“We can take as many breaks as you want,” said Caitlyn softly.
“No,” Violet retorted loudly. “No, I want this over with.” She sighed. “So anyway, Leonard- sorry, I don’t know his last name- Leonard came out of one of the Humvees, and I told him we were here to get him out. But there was something off about him. He looked-“
“Looked what?” the detective pressed.
Vi exhaled through her nose. “He looked like a wild animal. Like he’d been cooped up and suddenly let free. That’s when he went for me.”
Caitlyn pointed at the scratch marks on Vi’s face with her pen. “And that’s how you got them?”
Nodding, Vi continued with the story, everything flooding back to her in painstaking detail. “He knocked me over and then got on top of me, I think he was going to try to strangle me to death. That’s when Lanes stepped in and shoved him off me. We ran back to our chopper and didn’t look back.”
Shaking her head, Vi remembered another detail. “There was something wrong with his eyes, though,” she added quietly.
“What was wrong with his eyes, Lieutenant?”
“His eyes, and the veins on his face, they were all purple.”
Caitlyn’s lips pressed into a thin line. She stopped writing to look up at the pilot, and Vi caught the slightest flicker of worry behind Cait’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Noting the last bit of information down, she thanked Vi and switched her tape recorder off.
Neither officers moved for a moment, both looking off in different directions, lost in their own little worlds.
“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn confessed.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” Vi growled, her temper rising at the simple words.
“I am, Violet, I really am. I-“
“Fuck you, Caitlyn,” Vi spat, her lips curling into a snarl. She shot up from her chair. “Good luck with your case. I never want to fucking see you again.”
With her final remark, Vi spun around on the balls of her heel and marched out of the room. She slammed the door with all her might as she left, leaving Caitlyn in the cold darkness of the meeting room.
***
Vi had barely said a word to Ekko when she stormed out of the meeting room. She’d grunted something about meeting him at the officers’ mess at 8, and promptly made a beeline for her quarters.
The pilot’s room was laid out scarily similar to how she had it when she was back at university. The same picture frames, same stack of protein powder tubs, same pile of dirty washing she promised herself every day she’d tidy up tomorrow. The only new additions were two new pictures perched on her bedside table: one of her and Ekko in the cockpit of an Apache attack helicopter, sticking their thumb and pinky finger out and giving the camera a goofy smile, and another picture of her sister and Vander when they were much younger.
On some nights Vi felt imprisoned in the four walls. Like there was no escaping her duty, just like there was no escaping the draft when she first went to the Piltover Military Academy. It was an honourable job, and she felt good serving her country, but the façade was always lifted whenever she drunk herself into oblivion on whatever cheap booze she could sneak on base.
On those intoxicated nights, when it was real quiet through the halls and there was nothing else to think about, one name rang through her mind like a broken record.
Caitlyn.
Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn.
Vi was brave enough to admit it was stupid to get so caught up a girl she’d known for just over a year, but she wasn’t brave enough to admit that there was a deep part of her that still had feelings for her.
And the fucking mantra stuck in a deep feral part of her mind didn’t help either.
After wallowing in her own self-pity a bit more, staring up at the plain white ceiling of her room, Vi finally pulled herself together to get ready to go and meet her wingman. When both pilots were off-duty the next day, or they didn’t have to fly again until the next evening, it had become routine that they’d spend the rest of their night at the officers’ mess, shooting the shit and listening to the same damn songs they played every night.
The officers’ mess was a small but cosy little bar, the only spot on base where alcohol was served legally. The walls were adorned with various base and squadron photos, including an impressive gold-framed picture of Commander Heimerdinger, his cold steely eyes looking down at the officers in disappointment. There was an outdated jukebox tucked away in the corner of the bar, as well as an old pool table and darts board.
The drinks were expensive and watered down like Hell, and the staff looked at you like something you’d trod in, but it was the number one spot to kick back with your battle buddies.
Ekko was already at the mess when Vi walked in, nursing two bottles of beer for them. She gave him a wave and joined the table. “Hey, Little Man,” she greeted, trying to sound as casual as possible.
Ekko lifted his head up and took a sip from his bottle. He wore baggy grey jeans and an oversized white T-shirt, decorated in an assortment of neon paint splashes and sloshes. Very professional. His pocket watch chain dangled loosely from the corner of his trouser pocket. “T’sup, Vi.”
Vi scanned the bar quickly to check who else was there. No familiar faces popped out at her, so they were good to get rowdy without any serious repercussions if need be. “How was your interview?”
Ekko shrugged and watched a single bead of condensation roll down the side of his brown bottle. “Bit shit. It was horrible, what we saw out there. And Detective Kiramman wanted so much detail. It was like being there again.” His eyes glazed over.
“Fuckin’ Corps of Justice,” spat Vi maliciously. She took a swig of her drink.
“How did you find it, Vi? Seeing her again?” Ekko leaned in, a look of curiosity and compassion on his face.
Vi’s demeanour suddenly changed. “It was fine,” she said bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.
“Yeah, you look fine,” grunted Ekko sarcastically.
The two sat in silence after, swallowed by their own trains of thought, when Vi noticed the dart board becoming free in the corner of the room. “Come on, let’s play a round of 501,” she suggested, gesturing to the empty darts board.
Ekko’s eyes lit up and he broke out into a smile. “Alright, but you still owe me a drink from last time.”
The pair strolled up to the board and picked up three darts each, standing back as Ekko took the first go. He nailed a treble twenty, double seventeen and treble ten on his first go, flashing Vi a cheeky smirk as he went to retrieve his darts.
“Show off,” Vi grumbled as she lined up to take her shots. She didn’t do as well as her friend, which earnt her yet another sly grin.
The pilots rotated through their goes, scribbling down their scores on the chalkboards either side of the circular target, chatting casually about past missions and their plans for the next ones.
The score sat at 62-49, Ekko taking the lead by 13 points, and Vi was lining up to take her last shot when the door to the mess swung open. Vi’s eyes traced to the source of the noise and felt the blood run cold through her veins. She didn’t even notice the dart exiting her hand as she threw it absentmindedly, still frozen in shock, and the dart sunk into the black mass behind the board, completely off target.
Fuck.
“Fuck,” Ekko muttered, as if agreeing with Vi’s internal monologue.
Detective Kiramman had just entered the bar, sitting at a table with a couple of other officers who she greeted fondly. Vi continued to stare, mouth agape, hand still locked in position from when she threw the dart earlier.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Vi whispered furiously, leaning into Ekko’s ear.
“She is an officer, Vi. She can go to the officers’ mess, you know.”
“Yes, I know that,” she grumbled angrily. “But why here? Shouldn’t she be back by now?”
The detective still hadn’t spotted Vi as she continued to chat away with the other people at the table. She threw her head back on occasion to laugh, the sound echoing across the small mess.
God, that fucking sound.
Vi also couldn’t help but notice a shorter ginger officer at the table, who’d moved her chair dangerously close to Caitlyn and was cackling with joy at everything the detective said, placing a hand across her wrist every so often.
The sight made Vi sick to the stomach. “Who’s the ginger?” she hissed to her wingman.
“Uhm.” Ekko stole a glance over to the table. “Nolen, I think? She’s Corps of Justice too. Works the gates. Why, you jealous?”
“Fuck off, Ekko,” she retorted through gritted teeth, fetching her darts and yanking them out of the cork with force. She shoved the darts into the hands of her wingman and grabbed her jacket before heading outside. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.”
Everyone in the army had their vices, one way or another. For some, it was working out until their vision went blurry and they couldn’t walk straight. For others, it was drinking themselves into a coma every night and waking up the next day to do it all again.
For Vi, her vice came sealed in a pack of twenty, stunk to high heaven and killed more people in a year than the three leading causes of death combined.
She barged out of the bar shoulder first before scrabbling around in her pocket and pulling a single cigarette out of her pack. She placed the white stick to her lips between her thumb and pointer finger, sparked up, and inhaled slowly, breathing a sigh of relief as the chemicals ran down her throat and into her lungs.
Smoking was a filthy fucking habit, and the young pilot knew it. She’d tried every play in the book to stop; nicotine patches, gum, chewing her nails until they were red and raw. But nothing compared and nothing curbed her cravings.
“Those things will kill you, you know,” a sultry voice said to the side of her.
Vi turned her head. Caitlyn Kiramman stood there, head against the wall, watching the other girl intensely.
Vi just grunted in return. “Ironic.”
A pair of long slender fingers plucked the cancer stick from Vi’s hand and elegantly placed them to her own lips. Caitlyn inhaled before handing the cigarette back, letting the smoke spill slowly from her parted lips.
God, that was hot.
“Who’s the girl?” Vi asked, changing the subject, ignoring the heat pooling deep in her stomach. She shoved her other hand in the front pocket of her jeans as she bounced on her heels awkwardly and took another huff.
“That,” Cait said slowly, eyeing Vi up and down, “is Maddie. We were at trade school together.”
“Huh.” Vi tilted her head. “Birds of a feather.”
“Indeed.”
Both officers fell silent as Vi took the opportunity to look up at the night’s sky. It was a cloudy night, the moon skewed slightly by fog overcasting it, however its milky glow still managed to bask the surrounding ground in a twilight haze.
“Why are you still here?” Vi asked interrogatively.
Underneath the bravado, the anger, the disappointment, Caitlyn heard the slightest hint of defeat. “My investigation is ongoing,” the detective explained calmly. “I’m not to leave until I believe I have sufficient evidence for my case.”
Vi took another puff off her cigarette and frowned. “Just as long as it doesn’t involve me, we’re good, Cupcake,” she mumbled, stubbing her cigarette out with the bottom of her shoe before going back into the mess. “See you around.”
“Goodnight, Violet,” Cait called earnestly after her.
Vi didn’t respond.