The Storm
It’s been a good couple months since Caitlyn first visited The Last Drop. Unintentionally, she made it a habit to visit every week, on Friday, to work on her research. It had become part of her routine: the hour-and-a-half journey through the city, the brisk morning air and lazy morning light casting shadows on the changing cityscape as she descended, in the opposite direction of many who were commuting to work at the time. She had become familiar with all of the small businesses that she passed on the way, and the familiarity settled well on her bones. She’d arrive to the last drop refreshed by the long walk, her mind buzzing with ideas, ready to sit down on the same booth as she always did, expertly crafted latte in front of her, and crank down on her work until mid-afternoon.
It worked wonders.
Of course, she would take a break at some point to refresh, enjoy some of Claggor’s wonderful bakes, and chat with whoever was on shift. In doing so, she had become decently acquainted with Vander’s family, and had begun to realize just what a special nexus point this place was for Zaun. It was just from bits and pieces, mentions, small anecdotes, and so and so forth, but she was starting to suspect that Zaun’s turn in the last twenty years might be credited to the people behind The Last Drop and their connections. For instance, she learned that Vander’s brother was Silco, one of the two Zaunite representatives at the council. She also learned that Vander seemed to have held the Undercity together before the Treaty of the Bridge was signed, and she suspected that Vander and Silco had a heavy hand behind getting that treaty signed. She’d also heard the name Sevika thrown around a couple times, and she knew that someone under that name spearheaded the Watchers, a vigilante group that had stepped up after Piltover’s Enforcers were officially kicked out of Zaun some ten years ago.
It was all extremely fascinating, stitching the story that flowed out of the café together.
But better yet, were the people themselves. Vander was an incredibly warm and kind man, with a quietly powerful demeanor. He did not tend to say more than was needed, but had an incredibly keen sense for when someone needed advice—he’d talked Caitlyn out of an anxiety spiral at least once. Mylo and Claggor were an iconic duo, both incredibly proud of their work. Claggor was well aware of the quality of his food, and was not shy to mention that he was most definitely Zaun’s best baker and on par with Piltover’s formally trained bakers—and he was delighted to hear Caitlyn heartily agree on the second point. Mylo was an electrical technician, and, according to him, singlehandedly kept the Lanes’ energy and ventilation systems up and running. He was working with Ekko—who Caitlyn hadn’t met yet, but heard was a good friend of the family’s—on figuring out how to route the energy produced by the bio-engineered flora in the Lanes into the electrical grid. There was Powder, Vi’s sister, who was an incredibly witty ball of energy with an obvious penchant for mischief. She had only seen her twice, but her demeanor and long braid certainly left an impression. She hadn’t seen or heard much of her work, but Vi had proudly told her that she was an absolute genius at building powerful machinery out of scraps (although, she had been incredibly vague about what kind of machinery her sister was building).
And then, of course, there was Vi. She was the most like Vander out of his four kids, kind, caring, and protective of their family. She was also the one Caitlyn saw most often, as she was the only one that worked at the counter full-time. And all the better for Caitlyn, because she was just so incredibly hot.
Caitlyn would be lying if she said that she didn’t have a crush, and she was well aware that her attraction was reciprocated. And how could she not know that Vi was into her, for the way that the barista’s eyes brightened when she walked in and the special tone she used when speaking to her were unmistakable. Caitlyn knew that she could make a move—and usually she would—but she was enjoying their casual flirting dynamics as they were. They had settled into a natural and comfortable pace, and she had no desire of disturbing it. Not yet, at least.
This morning was a little bit of a flub in her routine. Autumn was beginning to shed into winter over the city, and the sunrise had tentatively brightened the sky behind a heavy sheet of seasonal rain. It was not until mid-morning that the rain seemed to let up and, out of pure hubris, Caitlyn decided to stick to her Friday routine instead of staying cooped up at home.
But one truly reaps what one sows, and, by the time Caitlyn was three-quarters of the way to the fissures, the heavy rains regained their thunderous power. She had an umbrella and a raincoat with her, but it was a poor shield against the whipping winds. She considered turning back, or finding another establishment to shield under, but Caitlyn’s perseverance did have a knack for turning into dogged stubbornness and today was no exception.
So that was how she arrived to the point where she stood now, past the threshold of The Last Drop, soaked to the bone and shivering as the rain howled through the Lanes outside. It was all, in retrospect, truly a dumb move on her part. Heavy downpours like these hit the Lanes particularly heavily, with the fissures creating powerful wind tunnels and the added runoff from the city above making the area particularly vulnerable to flooding. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find The Last Drop closed, given the weather.
But thanks to the gods that it wasn’t.
As the door shut closed behind her, with the thunderous downpour muffling down considerably behind the thick wooden panels, steely grey eyes met her own from behind the counter. Vi’s expression fell for a second into its usual bright smirk—the one she only saw Vi direct towards her—before a wave of baffled shock replaced it. Caitlyn registered the way Vi’s eyes darted around her figure, and felt extremely self-conscious of the puddle of rainwater forming at her feet.
After a few seconds of sheepishness, Caitlyn broke the silence.
“The weather is not great today, I must regret to inform you.”
Vi’s eyebrows drew close and up, and her lips turned into a worried scowl.
“Cupcake!” she scolded, “Why in the world are you here?” The distance between them was cut in a few long strides, and Vi’s hands rested on her own hips in a posture of annoyance.
Caitlyn smiled, willing her embarrassment to not come through, “It’s Friday.”
“And what, you couldn’t stand not seeing me this week!?” Vi’s reply came out quick and angry, and by the way her lips sealed shut and her eyes widened right after the words tumbled out, Caitlyn could tell it came out without much thought on her part.
She chuckled, pushed her wet bangs out of her face. “… something like that.”
The room suddenly felt both a little colder and a little hotter, and Caitlyn realized that it was only the two of them in the shop at the moment. Not that it was at all surprising, given the gale outside.
Vi seemed stuck for a long moment. It also occurred to Caitlyn, then, that Vi had never stood this close to her before. It wasn’t quite an intrusion of her personal space, but it wouldn’t take much to make it so.
And then Vi cleared her throat, took half a step back. She pressed a hand to her forehead. “…at least you made it here in one piece, I guess.” She sighed and looked back at Caitlyn. “Don’t do that again, storms down here are not a joke.”
Caitlyn scratched at the back of her hand, nodded. “I did just learn that lesson, do not worry. It was too late to turn back when the storm picked up, though.”
Vi raised an eyebrow, “You know, for being such a genius, you don’t seem to have much street smarts in you. You could have stopped along the way.”
Caitlyn felt suddenly, quite stupid. And quite cold, in her waterlogged attire. “…I guess that you are right.”
Vi sighed, and the anger slipped from her face, leaving only the worry behind. “No matter, Cupcake.” She seemed to hesitate, but then she took half a step forwards, and draped the small towel she kept thrown atop her shoulder over Caitlyn’s head. Caitlyn stood still, somewhat shocked but permissive of the sudden intimate gesture. Vi’s expression seemed quite vulnerable for a second but then turned into a bit of a sheepish smirk. “… Now that I think of it, this towel won’t cut it, will it? You are soaked through.” She turned around, beckoned Caitlyn to follow, “Come on, I’ll let you borrow our shower and some dry clothes. Mylo just figured out a reliable water heating rig, isn’t that neat?”
Caitlyn’s face felt a little hot, but nonetheless she followed, taking the small purple towel into her hands.
--
Caitlyn later found herself back on track with her routine, dry and pleasantly warm, sitting at her booth with Warwick curled up next to her and her papers and notebooks spread in front of her. It was a miracle that the inside of her bag had remained mostly unimpacted by the downpour—the miracles of waterproofing.
There were just a couple of things off the usual. For one, The Last Drop was empty, the usual hum of conversation replaced for the heavy patter outside. She was dressed much more cozily than her usual, which was both nice and slightly off-putting, and wrapped up in a couple of fluffy blankets that Vi had forced on her. Instead of her usual coffee, Vi had also pressed a concoction of black tea, lemon, ginger and honey into her hands.
“Wouldn’t want our precious Piltie genius to fall ill for risking a visit,” She’d said. Caitlyn was a little surprised at just how much she fussed over her health—the mark of an oldest sibling, she guessed.
And, lastly, Vi had sat down across from her, nose-deep in a detective novel. As the storm outside found short-lived moments of calm, a couple of people straggled in and she rushed to take their orders, but they were few in-between and they left as soon as they received their drink. And so, for most of the day, they sat together in silence, engulphed by words on paper and comfortable company.
It occurred to her that perhaps Vi was more than a hot barista she enjoyed hitting on.
Around mid-afternoon, Vi came back from the kitchen with a pair of warm muffins and another round of her—admittedly delicious—medical concoction.
Caitlyn, smiling, set her papers aside for the snack.
“I have to tell Claggor to make you some cupcakes sometime. Do you have any preferences?”
Caitlyn felt a bit of an embarrassed flush come forward, “There’s no need. I don’t like them that much,” she picked up her muffin, peeled back the paper skirt, “these are way better.”
Vi laughed heartily. Caitlyn waved her off but smiled. Then…
“How come it is only you here today?” She hadn’t looked around more than necessary when Vi led her to the apartment upstairs, but it didn’t seem like only one person lived there.
“Everyone was smart today and stayed home, unlike you.” Vi took a bite of her muffin, “Well—technically Powder lives here too, but she’s at Ekko’s.” Vi rolled her eyes, “y’know, I love the little man, but it is annoying sometimes. One moment your sister is your full-time side-kick, and the next she’s off doing genius shit with her genius boyfriend all the time.”
Caitlyn giggled lightly. She didn’t miss the glint that passed over Vi’s eyes.
“Do you have any siblings, Cupcake?”
She shook her head. “It’s only me. I guess Jayce is somewhat like an older brother, but he’s also almost ten years older than me.” Her words lingered in the air for a moment, “How come Vander doesn’t live here?”
“He moved out a couple of years ago, after…” Vi trailed off, seeming a little conflicted. Then she shook her head, and her words came out a bit small. “After I got released from Stillwater. He wanted to give me some more space after being all crammed up for those years.” She smiled a little, “besides, we see enough of each other running this place.”
Caitlyn was silent for a moment. She hadn’t known that Vi had been in prison before, and she hesitated to ask about it. But the information had just been offered, and she ultimately decided that it might be fine to ask.
“You were at Stillwater?” it came out a bit blunter than anticipated, and she rushed to correct, “I’m sorry, I just am somewhat surprised. If you don’t mind me asking.”
Vi raised a quizzical eyebrow. Then it lowered, as if in sudden understanding. “I forget that most of Piltover has never been there sometimes.” She rested her head on her fist. “Many of us have been there for at least a couple of months, back before we got your Enforcers out of here.”
Caitlyn nodded and thought to move the conversation away from the topic. She found herself forgetting the brutal history of occupation that was just a couple of years behind them now more often than she would like.
But Vi continued, “Although, I guess I can’t quite say I was blameless for getting chucked in there.” She flashed a bit of a grin, “I was a handful of trouble as a teen. After Powder and Little Man got their scholarships to apprentice at the Junior Academy, I spiraled out for a couple of years.” She sighed. “It’s hard to keep it together when the world is moving around you so quickly and you suddenly find yourself without real responsibilities.”
Vi seemed lost for a moment, and Caitlyn tentatively reached forwards to put a hand over hers. It was warm, and seemed to relax under her touch. Vi’s eyes met her own again. She smiled.
“Sorry, I got carried away. I’m sure my dark and broody backstory is the last thing you want to hear about.”
“No, not at all. It is okay if you want to tell me.” She was somewhat whiplashed by the sudden vulnerability, but she didn’t feel it came out of turn. “I’ll lend you an ear. But don’t feel like you have to.”
Vi nodded, then continued after a moment. “I… I guess I do want to tell you. I don’t think you’ll judge me too harshly.” She sighed. “I got caught up in pit-fighting, that whole world. It wasn’t pretty, and I happened to coincide with crackdowns on it. Which just made it worse.” She clenched and stretched her fists, joints popping. “Vander was against it, obviously. So, I ran away. By the time I got caught, I couldn’t tell when to stop punching between all of adrenaline and alcohol and drugs they pumped us fighters with. I wouldn’t be surprised if I killed a couple of my matches. I don’t remember much of that time, under all the haze.” Her voice cracked, just so slightly. “I do know that I killed an Enforcer during the raid, heavily injured a couple more.” Vi shrugged. “What can I say, I was pretty good at it. Made my sponsors a pretty penny, for sure.”
Caitlyn was quiet for a moment. She didn’t quite know what to say. What do you say, to the sudden revelation that the person across from you has killed? No, that was not it—what do you say to the sudden revelation that the person across from you was so cruelly coerced to kill? She started, tentatively, as warm as she could make her voice, “Vi, that was not—”
“Not fully my fault, I know. I got trafficked, or something like that. Still, I should have known a little better.” She sighed. “I’m just glad to have it all behind me now. The assholes who lured me into that whole mess are still in Stillwater, if it makes things better. They were not included in the pardon agreement that got me and others in my position out of there.”
They sat in silence for a while after, munching away at their muffins. Caitlyn was well aware of that agreement—it had released hundreds if not thousands of people from Stillwater some five years ago. All people who had been forced to illegal activity by Zaun’s old chemlords.
She struggled to wrap her mind around it. Vi, who must have been a teenager at the time, falling into such a violently exploitative trap. Vi, who she only knew to be deeply kind and caring, punching her way through people twice her size for a living. Vi, who smiled so easily around her, locked up in a cell for years. She spoke of it as if it was something she’d left far behind, but those experiences left deep scars on anyone. Caitlyn was stunned by her resilience, and by the depth of the love and support she must have received from her family to be able to speak of it so.
As she looked around the space, it seemed to take on a different light. This was a place of healing, she realized. Not just for the people behind the counter and its customers, but for the community surrounding it. It was both symbol and embodiment of resilience in community—not just new beginnings, as it was often easy to see these things from outside, but of continued efforts to heal from the past.
History hung heavily here. It was in the pictures arranged along the eastern wall, showing images of the dilapidated city of years prior. It was in the vitrines of half-full alcohol bottles that sat behind the counter, indicating that this place hadn’t always been a pleasant café. It was in the book of names on the altar beside the record player, surrounded by fresh and dried flowers. But history hung as sober remembrance, not as a shackle.
A clap of thunder outside broke their silence.
“Well,” Vi started, “If you don’t mind staying with a violent ex-con, I think you should stay the night. That storm is not going to let up any time soon, and you are lucky enough to have made it here in one piece.”
Caitlyn wrapped her hands around the mug, leaned forwards a little, and smiled. “Only if you don’t mind my staying.”
Vi mirrored her posture. The air lightened around them again. “It’s my pleasure.”