Piltover's Finest: In Recognition

Caught in the act, red-handed, in flagrante delicto, Vi froze deer-in-the-headlights style, still clutching the damning evidence in a fear-locked grip of death. For a brittle, shocked second, she didn't even breathe, unable to do anything other than cringe under the Sheriff's persecuting scowl.

In the next second, Vi gathered her wits and went full-bore puppy dog eyes, cuddling the pilfered cupcake to her chest. "Pleeeeeeease?" she begged, batting her eyelashes from under her bubblegum bangs. If her motto weren't already "Punch first, ask questions while punching," it would have been "I'm too cute to lose!"

"Just. One," Caitlyn consented, resuming her task of carrying the last batch of cupcakes to the island countertop, kicking the oven door closed behind her. "Or you'll ruin your lunch—" she glanced at the kitchen clock while speaking, and, seeing that it was nearly high noon "—or should I say breakfast?"

"Whaff do you fffink fithh ithh?" Vi gurgled around the entire cupcake she had summarily shoved in her mouth. She gave the empty wrapper a vigorous shake for emphasis, dusting the kitchen tile with red velvet crumbs.

"I should have guessed," Caitlyn shook her head, starting to transfer the fresh cupcakes to the cooling rack, using the tips of her oven mitts to lift the confections from the pan. She let Vi off with just a look as her partner augmented her breakfast of champions with a finger-scoop of icing from the big pink bowl.

"There's fresh coffee," Caitlyn added, pulling the icing bowl back out of Vi's reach before she could help herself to a second serving. "And you can have as much of that as you can stand."

"Whoo, coffee time!" Vi cheered, capering around the island to where the coffee pot stood, alongside a mug that Caitlyn had laid out for her. She whistled some nonsense tune as she filled the mug just halfway, saving the remaining space for a strong dose of cream from the jug that also happened to be standing by.

As Vi puttered about with the coffee, Caitlyn scooped up the de-cupcaked pan and headed for the sink. "Hot pan on your six," she warned, holding it to the far side in case Vi decided to make any sudden moves with or without looking first. But Vi just leaned back against the countertop, slurping her coffee-flavored cream, and watched Caitlyn deposit the pan in the sink.

"You should wear this for me more often, Cupcake," Vi told her. Off Caitlyn's skeptical look she decamped from the counter and came sailing around to Caitlyn's side. Hooking an arm over the Sheriff's shoulder, Vi plucked at the strap that secured the apron around her neck. The apron was a frilly, pastel affair, dotted with minute flowers and rabbits, but Caitlyn wore it regularly and without irony when she dealt with kitchen business.

"You're not serious?" Caitlyn wondered, settling back into said business of readying cupcakes for traps, hampered slightly by the clinger-on.

"Aw yeah," Vi insisted. "I keep thinking of you as a lonely little housewife, all by herself all day, ready for any old villain to just come right along and rob you of your pearls and your virtue. And by villain I mean yours truly." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, releasing a little snicker into the side of Caitlyn's neck.

Caitlyn shook off the idea and Vi with a toss of her head, still harboring the suspicion that Vi was putting her on. "Lucky for me, then, that I have neither to steal." Seeing Vi's pout at being shrugged off, she tilted her cheek towards her partner as a peace offering, and received a sloppy, sugary smooch for her troubles.

Vi chortled and danced to a safe distance, slurping her coffee from around the far side of the island. Caitlyn grimaced and wiped her face with the back of her rabbits-and-flowers oven mitt. "Seriously?" she asked again, flapping her over-sized, pastel hands, "This strikes your fancy?" She stood there in the silly trappings of a homemaker, barefoot, not yet made up, her hair pulled back with a simple clip, and was pleasantly thrilled to see Vi examining her with a thorough and heated gaze.

"What can I say?" Vi shrugged, ducking into her coffee once more, "You give a girl ideas."

The kitchen fell into a contemplative silence, the only sounds being the steady ticking of the clock, the rustle of Caitlyn's apron as she returned to her work, and the errant squeak of Vi's shoe butting against the kickboard. Caitlyn's quiet smile lingered as a general sense of well-being settled over her.

Tugging off the oven mitts, Caitlyn took up the icing bowl and gave the sticky mess a quick stir. "I'll be done with these shortly," she said, "did you want to grab a bite to eat soon? A proper meal, that is."

Vi drained her coffee mug before answering. "Nah, it's okay, Cait," she said, sliding the empty mug across the island, "You've got work stuff to do, so I was just gonna run down to the garage and hang out with the guys for a little bit."

This news took Caitlyn by surprise, but she made no show of it as Vi reached down and hefted her ratty blue duffel bag. The infamous gauntlets clanked against each other, encased precariously by old canvas secured with an aging zipper. It was now that Caitlyn noticed that Vi was fully dressed and ready to roll out the door, a rather unusual sight for a Sunday morning.

"The guys, huh?" she managed, trying to sound interested instead of disappointed, tapping the spoon not quite viciously on the rim of the bowl.

But Vi seemed to be a step ahead of her in more ways than one, correctly interpreting Caitlyn's terse response for what it was. She tilted her head and offered Caitlyn an apologetic smile. "I'll only be gone an hour or two, Cupcake. I've just got a project to wrap up and Corki said he'd lend me a hand with it. So I'll get out of your hair so you can finish your important business," at this she swept her arm wide to indicate the cupcake assembly process, "and on my way back I'll lift a bottle of the good stuff and then we'll celebrate. Scout's honor."

Despite herself, Caitlyn had to admit that Vi's untraditional rendition of the customary yordle salute was not without its charm. Pressing a purple-lacquered fingertip to her lips, she suppressed an amused smile. "Well then. I can't argue with the good stuff, now can I?"

"Hey, what about meee?" Vi whined, dropping her duffel to the floor with a loud clang, leaning forward over the island with her best I'm-too-cute-to-lose face.

"I can argue with you as much as I please," Caitlyn returned, using her lightning quick reflexes to apply a dab of icing to the tip of Vi's nose. As Vi screeched like a wraith and reared away, Caitlyn coolly took up her tools of the trade and set about frosting her topless treats.

Taken aback but a moment, Vi flicked her hand across her nose. Sucking the sugar from the heel of her palm, she leaned sideways and scooped up her bag, heaving it onto her shoulder. She straightened again, sparing a moment to watch Caitlyn pile icing over the top of a cupcake, shaping the fluffy topping to perfection.

The amount of painstaking effort that Caitlyn put into these things stupefied Vi. Did they all need to be picture perfect, when in the end some wayward lunk was just going to smash their foot into them? Vi would never understand it, never ever. "Don't have too much fun without me," Vi said, scratching her head.

Caitlyn added one last careful swirl to the icing before looking up. "Take care, dear. Send my best wishes to the garage."

Vi acknowledged her with a flippant salute, and then was tripping out of the room, bag in tow. After a moment, the front door slammed closed.

The kitchen drifted into ponderous stillness, the ticking of the clock now seeming twice as loud as if it were struggling to fill the Vi-shaped void. While Caitlyn did prefer to tailor a tranquil environment in which to work, it never felt quite as form fitting after Vi had ripped through it. Even though there were days when Vi's spirited belligerence made Caitlyn want to put her boot through a wall, there were days when Vi's thoughts and behaviors were nothing but pleasant surprises, and Caitlyn couldn't help but feel ultimately blessed for having Vi in her life.

"Yo, Cupcake," Vi called, rushing back into the kitchen. Caitlyn jerked in surprise – she certainly would have heard Vi re-entering the house – causing the frosted top of the cupcake she was holding to slop off into the bowl. She grit her teeth and glared daggers up at her wonderful partner, who was wearing a decidedly devilish grin. "Oops, sorry," she said, a bold faced lie.

"Did you forget something?" Caitlyn asked with forced politesse, scraping off the remnants of her handiwork to start from the beginning.

"Yep," Vi answered, bee-lining for Caitlyn around the island. And before Caitlyn could really even prepare herself, any pseudo-malignant thoughts she had for Vi at the moment dissipated like clouds on a sunny day as the Enforcer placed two fingers under her chin and softly kissed her frown into oblivion.

Violet eyes blazed with humor, admiration, and something even a touch more intimate. Vi broke away only to follow up with a fond peck on Caitlyn's cheek. "Happy anniversary, Cupcake."

The old grandfather clock in the front room struck five.

Caitlyn blinked up from her book, counting the bells. When the last ring faded away, she frowned. Closing the book with a snap, she rose from her armchair and tucked the novel under her arm, gathering up the tea tray that sat on the side table. She was going to bite her tongue the next time she wanted a little peace and quiet, five hours straight with no interruptions and she had run out of things to do.

She wondered what was keeping Vi. Actually, she didn't wonder what it was so much as why Vi would choose today of all days to spend tooling around at the customs shop. The fact that "an hour or two" with the mechanics had evolved into "all afternoon" would have hardly surprised Caitlyn any other day, but today she had assumed that Vi would have tried to expedite her return.

Clearly, she had assumed wrong. Caitlyn rolled her stiff neck as she emptied her tea things into the sink, debating with herself whether or not to call down to the shop. Maybe Vi had just lost track of time, tinkering with some new gadget or tool. Maybe Corki had launched into one of his piece-by-piece tours of the ROFL Copter, and Vi was in dire need of an excuse to escape.

Caitlyn smiled at the image of Vi pulling her hair out as Corki enumerated the qualities of the particular alloy blend they used for the fuselage. On second thought, maybe she'd leave Vi to her fate.

Even so, the washing up was finished in the space of three minutes, and as Caitlyn dried her hands, she realized she was back at square one with nothing left to do and still no sign of Vi. With an inward sigh, Caitlyn lifted the kitchen phone off the cradle and dialed Piltover Customs.

"Yello!" Corki's voice crackled over the line. "You've reached Papa Charlie."

"And the total of people who've hung up thinking they've got the wrong number?" Caitlyn asked, out of habit.

A snorting chortle greeted her ear. "Why hey there, Sheriff," the yordle drawled, "what ken I do ya fer?"

"Hello, Corki," Caitlyn said amiably, harboring a secret affection for the Daring Bombardier. "I was just ringing you up to check in on that ne'er-do-well partner of mine. I imagine she's knee deep in some engine or other?"

The line was silent an over-long moment, nothing but the static of the wire to tell her that the connection was still open. "Corki?"

The little daredevil cleared his throat, and when he spoke it was at double speed. "No, well, y'see, not today, Sheriff. Haven't spotted hide nor hair of the lil' rapscallion all day, have we, boys? Ha-ha! No sirree, won't find Vi here today. Sorry, Sheriff, don't know what to tell ya."

Caitlyn's brow furrowed. What was the act all about? Before she could insist he tell her the truth, he sputtered on: "A-ha! The po-leese station! I reckon that sounds like the place she'd be. Bye, now!" And then he hung up.

The receiver blared a dull tone into her ear, telling Caitlyn in no uncertain terms that the conversation was over. Not quite sure what to make of it, she replaced the handset on the hook and turned, nonplused, to the empty kitchen. The clocked ticked busily, offering no answers. 5:09.

What could Vi be up to that had sent Corki into convulsions trying to deny her presence at the garage? Corki was as honorable as they came, and Caitlyn would be hard-pressed to recall any time where he had lied to her or had been even slightly withholding. Was he covering for Vi, as if there were something she didn't want Caitlyn to know about? Vi, on the other hand, couldn't be called honorable in the classic sense, yet in most respects she was an open book; one could read her every thought and emotion on her face. There was hardly anything she kept under wraps, and nothing she hid from Caitlyn.

Or, Caitlyn reasoned, Corki thought Vi was playing hooky, and was simply attempting to keep his friend from landing herself in hot water with the Sherriff. Not that Vi was known to skive off work, but recently the business of policing the city-state had seemed kick up a notch, requiring more of their attention than usual. A true day off had become a rarity, meaning finding time to themselves was hard enough, and trying to find time to spend together required obscene effort.

And maybe Vi was just taking advantage of a well-earned break, blowing off steam in the relaxed atmosphere of the grimy, oil-splattered garage, talking trash with the guys and letting her cares drift away as she focused on the complex wiring of some new hextech toy. Caitlyn couldn't begrudge her this, not when she felt just as strongly the need to sit back in silence with a hot cup of strong tea for an hour or two.

But she had already had her fill of silence, and the hour or two had elapsed into five and a half, and Caitlyn hushed a tender pang of disappointment in remembering how she had originally hoped to spend the entire day with Vi, Piltover be damned.

Taking a deep breath, Caitlyn straightened her posture and gave the kitchen a quick inspection. Nothing more to be done here. Dredging her workday list for tasks she had intended to put off until tomorrow, she decided to keep busy until Vi returned. She hadn't greased the traps yet, after all, so she headed for the work room to take her mind off her troubles.

The basement room was cool and faintly earthy, the familiar shapes of the cabinets and tools taking color as Caitlyn pulled on the chain to light the cluttered space. Crossing to the heavy trunk against the far wall, she spun the combination lock and heaved the lid open. Waiting patiently for their next victim were the two dozen steel traps she used to reveal enemies and keep suspects from escaping.

"Hello, my pretties," Caitlyn cooed, reaching in to lift them by the chain upon which they were strung. They glittered and clinked together as she carried them to the work table, deadly trinkets on a sash of danger. Vi wasn't the only one in this house who got to play with toys.

Laying the traps out for examination, however, brought another mystery to Caitlyn's attention. She counted again, and sure enough, the chain held only twenty-three of the devices. It wasn't that Caitlyn was particularly uptight about having a specific number of traps, but two dozen was perfect for a batch of cupcakes and she hated to be wasteful.

She put a fist to her hip, trying to think where the last one had gone. Perhaps she had mislaid it at the station, after some late-night sting from which Vi had had to drag her home. Speaking of which, a faint twinge of curiosity hit her as she remembered Corki's suggestion that her absent partner could be found at just that location.

Best case scenario: two birds with one stone, Caitlyn thought as she mounted the stairs to ascend into the house. And worst case…well, she couldn't know any less than she already did, right?

Entering the kitchen once more, Caitlyn reached for the phone and dialed the number for the station's front desk. After a few rings, a woman's voice answered.

"Piltover Police Department, Sergeant Marjorie Beckham speaking."

"Good evening, Sergeant," Caitlyn responded with her commander-of-men attitude she used with her personnel, "How fares the day?"

"Well, Sheriff," was the short reply. From experience, Caitlyn knew there would be no further qualification to the pronouncement.

Unlike with Corki, Caitlyn shared no good-will with her Sergeant. No ill-will, either, merely pure and simple professionalism. "I'm glad to hear it. Have you, by any chance, happened across a misplaced trap? I appear to be short one."

"No, Sheriff."

Caitlyn screwed up her mouth, thinking. Where could she have left it? "You'll let me know if one turns up?"

"Yes, Sheriff."

Not particularly loving this conversation, but not quite ready to give up, Caitlyn hesitated a moment before asking, as casually as she could, "Has Vi been in the office today?"

"Yes." The answer was as rapid fire as any previous one had been, but this time there was a distinct chilliness to the Sergeant's tone.

Caitlyn literally held the receiver out and looked at it in surprise. Hastily returning it to her ear, she asked, "Oh has she? Is she still there?"

"No, Sheriff." This time, blatant relief.

Already Caitlyn was trying to assimilate this new information into a cohesive whole, going silent as she pulled all the pieces front and center. Her attention thus diverted, she belatedly remembered to bring the call to a close. "Oh. Well, thank you, Marjorie, for your time. Carry on. Sergeant."

"Sheriff," came the affirmative reply, and then the line disconnected.

Feeling a rather eerie sense of deja vu, Caitlyn turned to face the empty kitchen, made somehow – impossibly – more uncertain by that call than the one before. While there was no reason why Vi couldn't have made an appearance at both places, the mystery remained that someone had failed to give Caitlyn the full truth.

If Vi had gone to Piltover Customs and then the police station, why would Corki have lied that she had never shown up at the former? If she had gone to the police station, only arriving at the shop after Caitlyn's call, then where was she for the first five hours? And if she had never intended to go to the garage at all, had she been lying this morning when she announced her destination?

Suddenly Caitlyn felt very tired. She returned the handset to the hook and then crossed to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and settling into it with wooden resignation. She laced her fingers together and tried to clear her mind.

What she needed to do, right now, was to not treat Vi like a case to be solved. Vi was an independent adult, fully capable of conducting her business in the manner she liked. Furthermore, she was free to come and go as she pleased, if a two hour trip turned into an all-day affair, by all means that was her prerogative.

But even as she told herself this, repeatedly and quite sternly, too, Caitlyn felt hurt by Vi's mysterious absence. Vi wasn't the only one who needed a break, who needed to take a step back from work and say, "not today, thank you." But maybe the effects of the long nights and interrupted weekends didn't show as plainly on Caitlyn. Maybe, to Vi, Caitlyn was a machine, impervious to toil, industrious to a fault.

Caitlyn had been ready to put all that aside today, however, to really shelve the worries of the week and focus on the things that lately seemed to be slipping into the sidelines. But Vi, she had geared up and left, assuming that Caitlyn would be preoccupied with business as usual. What had she said, "you have important work stuff to do?"

And here she was, still in the kitchen at a quarter to six, alone. There had been no point in the last four weeks of late nights, early mornings, and hectic schedules when she had felt more miserable than she did right now.

The sound of the front door slamming shut caused her to leap up, the chair screeching back in protest, her heart a-flutter but not in a good way; her pulse racing in guilt, as though she had been apprehended in the midst of some misdeed. She was quick to retake her seat, now not at all sure how she intended to react to Vi's long awaited reappearance.

"Honey, I'm home!" Vi sang, clumping into the kitchen as if she were utterly unsurprised to find Caitlyn right where she had left her hours ago. She was all smiles, toting her duffle in one hand, a cardboard box in the other, with a bottle of some dark liquor stuffed under her arm.

Immediately and with no pretense, Vi dropped the bag to the floor, set the remaining items on the table, and flew to Caitlyn's side, throwing her arms around her. Caitlyn automatically returned the embrace, still trying to get her emotions in order, and said nothing.

"Don't kill me, Cait," Vi begged into Caitlyn's hair, "I'm so so so so sorry it took me so long." She disengaged and moved far enough back to look Caitlyn in the eye. Try as she might to look penitent, a bright grin kept ruining the effect.

"Welcome home," Caitlyn said, in a much more subdued tone. She wanted to return Vi's cheeriness, wanted to accept the apology at face value, but she found herself unable to rise to the surface with any sort of speed. "Tell me about your day and we'll see about my killing you."

The flatness with which Caitlyn offered the deal succeeded in putting Vi's grin in the grave. "Oh no, you're not mad, are you?" she asked, genuine concern instantly transplanting her playfulness from a moment earlier. "I swear I thought it would only take a couple of hours. I didn't mean to leave you hanging all day, but I couldn't just call up and fill you in, or it would ruin the surprise…." She trailed off, studying Caitlyn's unresponsive expression, at which her own turned even sourer. "I balls'd today right up, didn't I?"

Caitlyn watched as Vi straightened and scooted away, chewing on her thumbnail. Vi reached out and tapped the cardboard box, glancing back over to Caitlyn with such a look of forlorn guilt that it made Caitlyn's mind up for her at last.

"Oh, sweetie," she sighed, reaching across the table for Vi's hand, "I'm not mad at you. Just a little confused, that's all. I called the garage a half hour ago, and Corki denied your existence. Said you were at the station. I called the station and Beckham said you had been and gone." She paused, giving Vi's hand a squeeze, and let it go. "I just wanted to spend the day with you."

The hangdog expression melted from Vi's face, a slow but steady grin creeping to take its place. Her violet eyes sparkled once more from under her bangs, and her fingers drummed against the corner of the box. "Corki," she snorted. "I'll kill him. Want to see what he was helping me with?"

Caitlyn nodded as Vi reached into the box, her curiosity getting the better of her. She was still quiet, but the promise of immediate answers to all her questions helped to lift her mood. "This is the surprise that took so long?"

"Part of it. I didn't have time to wrap it," Vi warned, glancing down to Caitlyn before removing the object from its container.

"I was looking for that!" Caitlyn gasped, staggered.

"It's okay, right?" Vi asked, placing the trap on the table in front of her. "I mean, if you need it, I can get you another one. I just thought this would be really cool."

Caitlyn lifted a hand and brushed a finger along the jaw of the trap. It gleamed far more than the others, having been plated in gold in its entirety. "It's stunning."

"Look, it opens up, too," Vi said, reaching over and pressing a catch on either side of the hinge. "Of course we had to take it all apart to plate the pieces, so it's perfectly safe, it's all hydraulic now. Corki's a wizard at putting stuff back together better than before."

The upper jaw of the trap swung leisurely upward, giving Caitlyn the chance to notice that the bait panel had been replaced as well – the center of the trap now showcased a cupcake-shaped gold-plated plaque with a short engraving:

"'In recognition," Caitlyn read, following the text with a reverent fingertip, "of your ten years of dedicated service as Sheriff of Piltover, tirelessly protecting its citizens and its future.' Did you write this?"

"Yup," Vi assured with a proud bob of her head. "Corki let me use his laser pen! And the batteries that power the electroplating tanks, oh man, they're so awesome. We have to get an electroplating lab, I'm tellin' ya."

Caitlyn let her ramble on about Corki's gadgets for a moment, deciding to wait until another day to tell Vi that "sheriff" had two F's and only one R. Her eyes swept over the trap-turned-trophy, the words finally sinking in. As Vi pointed to some detail the engraving, Caitlyn grabbed her hand and stood.

"I was worried," she blurted, at Vi's questioning look.

"I told you," Vi shook her head, "it won't snap now, we rebuilt it…the…hydraulics?" She finished in puzzlement as Caitlyn stepped close and wrapped her in a powerful hug. "Cait?"

"I was worried you were upset with me," Caitlyn admitted to Vi's shoulder. "Because of how busy I've been with work lately." She laughed once, squeezing Vi with all the affection she could muster.

After a moment Vi laughed, too. "What! No!" She took Caitlyn by the waist and pried her off, holding her at arm's length. "I know I make fun of your cupcakes or whatever, but you're amazing at what you do. You take care of all of us – you take care of me." Vi colored faintly and dropped her gaze. "You're really important to me, Caitlyn. I couldn't be upset. The work you do…I love you for it."

Touched, the melancholy of the day well and truly forgotten, Caitlyn cupped Vi's face, brushing her thumb over the numerals. Vi shrugged and rolled her eyes, biting her lip. "Look at me," she said, shy, "I've gone all sappy on you."

Caitlyn shook her head, not wanting Vi to feel embarrassed for expressing her feelings. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for the gift. Thank you for putting up with me."

"Hey," Vi said, "sorry today ended up being a waste. Sorry I made you worry. I think Corki thought you weren't supposed to know I was there? Because of the thing we were doing? I'll give him a hard time about it later."

"No need," Caitlyn smiled. "Remind me to thank him for his fine craftsmanship. And to let Sergeant Beckham know tomorrow that my missing trap isn't missing after all."

"Nope," Vi said, twisting to put an arm around Caitlyn and turning to pull a thick envelope out of the box. She flicked the tab open one-handed, and poured the contents over the surface of the table. Smaller envelopes of all shapes and colors cascaded out in a great papery pile.

Caitlyn let herself be pulled tight to Vi's side, reaching out to sift through the envelopes. "And what are these?"

"The rest of your anniversary gift, from Piltover to you," Vi caroled. "Just because you're great at your job doesn't mean you should spend another ten years working yourself into the ground."

"How do you mean?" Caitlyn asked, picking up an envelope at random and sliding it open. Inside was a card, signed by one of the officers and her family, filled with scrawled congratulations and well-wishes.

"What really took so long today," Vi explained, "was rounding up all these cards. I gave 'em all two months to get them done, but whatever. Basically," she went on, picking up a set of cards and fanning them in her hand, "these are promises from the entire police force to fill in our for our shifts for the entire week, starting today. Get ready to majorly chill out, babe."

Caitlyn plucked another from the pile and read it quickly, starting to feel overwhelmed. "The entire force?"

"Yeah, and Jayce and Ez and the guys worked it out with the Institute, so they'll take our places in the roster. That means no chases, no mysteries, no stake-outs, not even a League match for a solid week. It'll be just you and me, I promise." Vi butted her nose into Caitlyn's cheek, looking up at her with the mother of all too-cute-to-lose faces. "Makes up for today, right?"

With a great sigh, Caitlyn draped her arm around Vi's shoulders, leaning close. "It's a marvelous plan, and I'll be eternally grateful to everyone involved if no one calls us at three in the morning about someone's missing grandma."

"They won't," Vi declared with conviction. "I sat each and every one of them down, and I told them, don't you dare call Caitlyn this week. I don't care if half the city is on fire, or if the entire Noxian army invades, or if all the yordles sprout pixie wings and start flying around throwing fairy dust in people's faces. You can wait to tell her first thing next Monday morning."

Caitlyn put her head back and laughed. "That's what you told them?"

Vi grinned deviously. "That and more. I made Marjorie cry," she said in a tone of deep, deep contentment.

"Enough," Caitlyn snorted, wiping a tear from her eye. "I don't want to hear any more about Marjorie."

"Marjorie who?" Vi agreed, wrapping both her arms around Caitlyn's neck. "It's just us."

Caitlyn nodded, leaning forward to meet Vi in an easy kiss filled with promises. Then she pulled back with a sly smile. "Unquestionably. That is, if by 'us' you mean, you, me, and a certain apron of mine."