Level Up
Dozens of bereted heads lined the parade square, a sea of multicoloured fabric and assorted regimental cap badges. Each soldier and officer stood still and silent, their hands resting in the smalls of their backs, eyes set intensely on Heimerdinger at the front and centre.
The commander stood atop an elevated wooden platform, adorned with the flag of Piltover and the Army banner, gaze drifting between the phalanxes of troops lined up patiently. No-one said a word as they eagerly awaited his next words.
Vi hated these types of parades. It was the mid-year promotions ceremony, where “lucky” officers and soldiers would move up the ranks, accompanied by an overly enthusiastic round of applause from jealous and brooding peers. The final decisions for promotion rested in the hands of Heimerdinger and Heimerdinger only; an officer could get hundreds of commendations and recommendations for promotion from his superiors, but the commander ultimately played the role of judge, jury and executioner over who would be awarded. And Vi knew that deep down that it inflated his ego massively.
Even the ceremony itself was pointless. Nearly every word Heimerdinger said could be summed up in an email or a letter; having to call each troop up one-by-one and ramble on about their “perseverance” and “operational resilience” was obsolete and a snoozefest for anyone who thought about it longer than two seconds. No-one was promoted on merit solely nowadays, it was a game of nepotism, who the commander liked (and whose parents he was friends with) and who he didn’t.
But, it was tradition, and like all other heritage events Piltover held, old habits died hard.
Another thing Vi hated about pitting so many people in the same parade square was the smell. It was a strange observation, but one the pilot had picked up on nonetheless. Occasionally, a younger soldier or new officer would scuff their shoe on the ground, and the overbearing scent of boot polish would waft up into the crowd, like the overexcited new recruit had drowned their toecap in half a tub of Kiwi before coming out.
Boot polish on its own was a strange but satisfying scent – a statement nearly every squaddie could agree on. But when you were surrounded by it, it was enough to give anyone an overbearing migraine.
Heimerdinger’s voice rang out through the speakers lining his little platform as he leant into the microphone to address the troops. Vi peered at him lazily through her aviator sunglasses. “Good afternoon, all,” he droned, eyes flickering across the parade square, “and welcome to our bi-yearly promotions ceremony.” A couple of claps rippled through the crowd.
Next to her, Ekko craned his head down, muttering out of the corner of his mouth, “Take a shot every time he says resilience.”
The other pilot snickered as the commander continued his speech. They really should make a bingo card for Heimerdinger’s favourite phrases. “Our first promotion goes to a member of our Challenger engineering team, who’s always challenging the status quo and pushing for efficiency in the workshop.”
Vi mentally ticked off each phrase on her winning sheet as he went.
“Please give a warm round of applause to Sergeant Morgan.”
The parade square came to attention and clapped vigorously for the sergeant as he fell out of formation and marched up to receive his rank slides, beaming from ear-to-ear.
“I asked that fucker for a wrench the other day and he told he to do one,” Ekko whispered furiously to Vi, his voice covered by the noise around them. Vi just chuckled and carried on watching the commander hand over the fresh new rank tapes.
The ceremony continued just like that; exhilarated younger soldiers and officers marching up to collect their rewards, older troops doing so more begrudgingly, a constant back and forth of clapping and listening to Heimerdinger drill the same phrase in different wording as he gave out each piece of fabric enthusiastically.
“Do you reckon he gets off on this?” Vi mumbled to Ekko as the list went on.
Ekko shuddered and grimaced. “Gross, Vi. I don’t wanna think about that.”
As the final round of applause died down, Heimerdinger peered down at his notes, sliding the last pair of rank slides off of his podium and holding them up in his hands. “It’s rare to see young Lieutenants with such passion and pride in their jobs nowadays, especially given the state of the outside world,” he said crisply, holding the rank slides up in his tiny hands. “However, this young officer has set a standard I’d like to see much more of amongst our younger troops. New under my command, she’s pushed her limits and led multiple successful operations both on and off base. It’s with my utmost pleasure that I award the last round of promotions to Lieutenant Kiramman!”
Vi’s eyes shot wide open as she heard Caitlyn’s name and settled on the back of a blue-haired head. She watched anxiously as Cait marched out of her formation, striding up to Heimerdinger and accepting the strips of fabric before quickly marching back to her place.
“Congratulations, Captain,” the microphone picked up the commander telling Caitlyn. Vi noticed an expression settling on Cait’s face, one that Vi hadn’t seen for a very, very long time.
For the first time since they were 19 years old and being sent off to war, Caitlyn Kiramman looked scared.
***
Receiving a promotion had not been on Caitlyn’s cards for that day, at all. Nothing could have prepared her for it, either.
This was her fourth promotions ceremony she’d attended since being a fully qualified officer within the Army of Piltover. The first one, she’d tried her hardest to stay awake, paying attention for a grand total of thirty minutes before her legs started to cramp and she was suddenly hyperfocused on not passing out and eating shit on the parade square.
After that ceremony, she’d kept her mind busy elsewhere in the next few, normally weighing over her cases or mission briefs while Heimerdinger’s voice trailed off in the distance.
In fact, she’d not even realised that her name had been called until Maddie had dug an elbow into her ribs and gestured frantically to the front of the parade square. With heavy arms, Cait made her way to the podium, feeling the burning eyes of every other soldier and officer on the parade square in the back of her head.
It wasn’t that she was ungrateful for the promotion. She was thankful that Heimerdinger had at least remotely recognised the blood, sweat and tears the detective was pouring into her cases and her missions, and that he’d come to realise she wasn’t just here to make a point regarding her family name.
The point was her family name, and the charm and effect it had on people. No matter how hard Cait worked, or what she did to anyone, she always felt like anything awarded to her wasn’t out of merit, it was out of respect and homage to her parents and her house. It was a curse that had followed and plagued her ever since her grammar school days.
Being a captain also meant a significantly larger number of responsibilities now resting heavy on her shoulders. It was an extra workload Cait wanted to avoid and prolong as much as possible.
Additionally, the detective had the task of picking out who she wanted to join her squad and be under her command, which was difficult, because she didn’t want to command any of them at all.
Her entire afternoon had been spent staring at multiple officer and soldier files strewn haphazardly across her desk, each brown pamphlet telling her nothing that she wanted to hear, mulling her decisions over and over in her head as the hours ticked by.
Maddie had tried to swing by to “congratulate” her on the promotion. Cait had promptly shooed her away and silenced her phone. Dealing with the younger officer was a problem for another day. For now, she had to try and focus on who the Hell she’d want marching forward with her into battle.
Unable to process the decision on her own much longer, Cait slid her phone out of her pocket and called the person that most definitely deserved this promotion much more than her.
The line clicked and Vi’s voice appeared on the other end. “Captain,” she said smugly.
“Don’t give me that.” Cait sighed down the phone heavily. “I need your help.”
There was a pause on Vi’s end. She clicked her tongue loudly. “Aren’t there rules against us fraternising now?” the pilot quipped.
Cait could sense the shit-eating grin on the other officer’s lips through the phone. “Stop being a smart-arse, Vi. I need to pick my crew for whatever comes next once Deckard’s been interrogated for what he knows.”
“Oh.” There was a shuffle of movement on the other end, the sound of clothing rubbing against each other. “Fine. I can be at yours in ten. See you soon.”
Cait’s phone clicked as Vi hung up. She placed her phone face-down on the desk and continued to stare down at each troop’s file as if the answer was going to jump out at her just like that.
After what felt like only a few moments, there was a rhythmic knocking at the door, and Cait jumped up a little too enthusiastically to retrieve it. Had she been staring into nothing for that long?
The detective unlocked her front door and cracked it open. Vi stood in the hallway, arms folded across her chest, glancing up and down before her eyes settled on Cait’s. “Oh Captain, my Captain,” she greeted with a smirk before entering into Cait’s quarters.
Vi had changed her clothes since the promotion ceremony, Caitlyn realised. She was out of her standard flight suit and instead wore a pair of light blue baggy jeans and a tight white squadron T-shirt, this time embroidered with the Army of Piltover insignia tucked in neatly. As Caitlyn examined her outfit closely she was beginning to wonder if Vi owned any clothing other than ridiculously tight shirts and squadron merchandise.
Vi strolled in, stepping in a full 360 as she scanned Caitlyn’s apartment, eyes analysing the layout and makeup of the room. “These your options?” Vi asked, jutting a finger over at Cait’s desk.
The detective nodded and Vi loomed over the various brown files, reading each name carefully. Some she recognised and knew very well, others she did not. Her eyes settled on a single file in particular, and Vi held it up to Cait, shaking her head. “Definitely not.”
Cait looked at the name on the report. NOLEN, M. was written in sharp lettering across the top. She chuckled shakily and took the file from Vi, placing it in a secondary pile on the edge of the desk.
“Who have you short-listed so far?” Vi questioned. She picked up a file and flicked through it nonchalantly.
“Just you and Ekko,” she replied with a huff, patting two files stacked on the other end of the surface. “We’ll need at least one pilot, and you two kind of come as a pair, so.”
Both girls knew deep down that wasn’t the only reason that Cait had selected Vi. Nonetheless, they continued, sifting through the profiles one at a time.
“I’ll need an engineer,” Vi said flatly. “For the chopper. Ekko and I can’t do it all on our own. What about Jayce?” She held up another file, which read TALIS, J. on the front in an aggressive font.
“Is it wise to build a team of just our friends?” Caitlyn replied curtly. She pressed her lips together.
“Gives us something to fight for, right?” Vi replied with a weak smile. She dropped Jayce’s file atop hers and Ekko’s. “Besides, Jayce is a hard worker. We could use that.”
The two officers cycled through each file on the table, weighing out the positives and negatives of each name, shortlisting some while binning the others. At least one of the girls knew the names Heimerdinger had presented them with, which was good, because otherwise it would’ve been a pure stab in the dark.
It seemed absurd to Cait, how a person’s entire length of service fit snugly into a single brown folder. Their achievements, their fuck-ups, their personal history, everything that made them human, all condensed and packaged away to be handled so dismissively just as they were doing right at that moment.
“How ‘bout an extra detective?” Vi suggested after a while. She passed Cait over a folder belonging to another office within the Corps of Justice.
Cait scoffed as she read the name on the front: LANCASTER, M. Flicking through the first few pages, she looked up at Vi. “Marcus? He’s nearly the same age as my dad.”
“Old dog, new tricks.” Vi just shrugged and tilted her head.
“Huh.” The detective stuck her tongue in her cheek before slipping the folder onto their shortlisted pile.
Picking up the stack, Vi flipped through each file, beaming up at Caitlyn. “Looks like you’ve got a stellar cast here, Captain,” she said proudly.
“Yeah.” Cait smiled back thinly, but furrowed her eyebrows. “No infantry, though. We need at least one other shooter.”
“Oh.” Vi dropped the files and leant back on Cait’s desk, her palms pressing into the wood. “Good point.”
Cait pondered for a moment, brows drawn together deep in thought, before suggesting the last name. “What about Claggor?”
“What about him?”
“Well, he’s infantry,” the detective continued. “From what I’ve heard, he’s pretty good at his job, too. It’d mean we could get him off the front lines.”
Vi shifted on the balls of her feet, her thoughts now ruminating around her brother, gaze settled on the floor. “I don’t know, Cait. He didn’t seem too good last time I spoke to him. I don’t think all this is doing his brain any favours.”
Caitlyn pierced her lips and stayed silent for a moment, thoughts circling through her mind. Their options for infantry were extremely slim; a lot of those on the front lines had become psych cases or were approaching that, and had a very limited shelf-life of how long they’d be able to handle the services any longer. It was like choosing which ticking time bomb to put under your bed at night – they were all set to blow in the end.
Finally, it was Vi who broke the quiet between them. Her eyes met Cait’s. “It would be nice to keep an eye on him, though,” she confessed eventually, picking up Claggor’s file and dropping it into the shortlisted pile.
Another comfortable silence settled between the pair. Vi’s eyes continued to scan the other officer’s room, taking it all in one bit at a time, revelling in how freakishly neat and organised everything was. God, even the way Cait hung up her drying laundry seemed to follow a system.
“You should’ve got the promotion,” the officer suddenly said very flatly.
Vi broke her gaze away from the neat row of coffee mugs in Caitlyn’s kitchenette. “Huh?”
“You should be captain. Not me,” she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest.
Vi just chucked and shook her head. “You and I both know that would never happen under Heimerdinger’s watch, Cupcake.”
Cait hated to admit it but Vi was right. She could be a loose cannon at times; it made her an excellent pilot, incredible at thinking on her feet and making last-second changes as need be, but senior officers like Heimerdinger wanted delegates he could keep on a short leash, not ones that cut their lead off a long time ago.
“You were the one who adjusted the plan at Jericho’s,” Cait continued. “Not me. It was all your idea. I just froze up.”
“Well, you got shot, so it can’t have been that good of a plan.” Vi slid away from the table and walked solemnly over to Caitlyn, taking the detective’s hands in her own and looking up into her eyes. “You deserved to get captain, okay? I can’t think of anyone else on this base who deserved it more than you.”
The detective smiled thinly back and squeezed Vi’s hands. Her eyes darted between storm and lips, heart fluttering, hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention abruptly.
Caitlyn closed the distance between them and merged their lips together in a single kiss.
Vi felt like she could never grow sick of Cait’s embrace as she embraced the detective back, lips melting together passionately, intertwined as one for the moment.
The air between them grew thick with static and something else, something hungrier, more desperate, more tasteful than before. Their tongues cascaded over each other in messy hot wet kisses as Cait slid her hands under Vi’s shirt and begun to tag at the hem.
“Get on the desk,” she instructed between kisses.
Vi complied obediently, breaking the kiss briefly to hop up on the desk before Caitlyn met her in the middle again. She slotted between the shorter girl’s legs, pressing their cores together hard, moving her hips slightly as she pulled off Vi’s shirt.
Vi moaned at the sudden feeling of cold air against her bare skin. Suddenly, nimble fingertips crept up her sides, and Vi threw her head back as a warm tongue began snaking down her neck and stomach.
Cait ran her tongue greedily across the dips of Vi’s abs, wanting to taste every square inch of the girl beneath her. A second hand made quick work of Vi’s jean zip and whipped her trousers off, the blue denim crumpling onto the floor in a heap.
Knotting a calloused hand into Cait’s long, raven hair, Vi bit her bottom lip as she watched the other girl making quick work of her boxers as well, throwing her head back in anticipation of what was to come next.
Only a few weeks ago, Vi had been telling the detective to go fuck herself, never wanting to see her again. Noe she was about to get railed on her desk.
Life moves pretty fast.
Cait wasted no time in ravishing Vi, wanting to savour every second of the moment. She dipped her head between the pilot’s legs, running the tip of her tongue between glistening folds, eliciting a moan from the girl underneath.
God, Cait wanted to bottle that sound and keep it forever.
Cait begun working on Vi’s clit, lapping hungrily at the small bud of nerves, stifled desperate moans escaping from the pilot’s lips. Heat built steadily in her core, a dull pressure slowly starting to unravel underneath Caitlyn’s careful touch.
“Fuck, Cait.” Vi gripped her fingers harder into Cait’s scalp, relishing in the pleasure coming between her legs. Caitlyn took the opportunity to slide two fingers between the girl’s slippery folds, curling up right into Vi’s spot. “Oh my God-“
Vi’s stomach cramped in on itself as she unravelled into Cait’s fingers, a loud moan escaping her mouth, her walls tightening as she rode her wave of ecstasy. Cait carried on fucking Vi through her orgasm, bringing her back down to earth slowly, eventually ceasing the action of her tongue and moving back up to plant a single kiss on Vi’s lips.
Cait placed her forehead against Vi’s and wiped the corner of her lips. Vi smiled breathlessly, placing a hand to the back of Cait’s head, and the pair giggled against each other’s lips.