Chapter Text
Plane engine noise. The familiar signal to fasten seat belts. Landing gear deployment. The thud of touching down.
Hello again, New York!
Caitlyn Kiramman, seat 1A, naturally. No other choice for her long legs, and the letter strokes her ego just a touch. A bit of a confidence boost is well-earned. Yes, she’s splendid enough without it, but why not? Don’t judge a respected professor for small indulgences – she’s still got two large suitcases to drag, a carry-on, and a bag… ugh, perhaps she was too quick to cancel her gym membership four months before the flight.
The city greeted her with a calm evening and warm weather. As Hal Borland said: “July is a blind date with summer.” A pleasant rendezvous was exactly what Caitlyn had been longing for. It had been about twenty years since she was last here. Since she saw her school friends, well, not counting that they were all neighbors and grew up together from the earliest age, even though she was three years younger than the rest. They tried to stay in touch, but with the start of university, it became challenging.
Despite that, when she dialed Felicia’s number on New Year’s Eve, she answered after the second ring with an unmistakable smile in her voice. In the background, Jayce was shouting something, mixed with a pleasant female voice, but they were quickly silenced by Mel’s firm hand, accompanied by light scolding that they could be quieter. Though she was definitely chuckling at what must have been the startled culprits.
Well, she was a respected professor. Still is, mind you, just now that title will be hers elsewhere. After successfully defending her doctorate in law, Caitlyn landed a job immediately, taking the place of her beloved academic supervisor, who gleefully went on indefinite leave and vanished somewhere in the tropics. Far from wayward students and endless lectures.
She ended up in England in the middle of high school. Her parents sent her to a prep school tied to the university she later attended. English roots helped her blend in seamlessly. Her mother had moved to the States chasing a boyfriend, now husband, who had landed a stellar internship position here. So the accent only sharpened, practically woven into her DNA, as it was always meant to be.
The early days were tough, of course. She missed the gang terribly. Their board game nights, their walks, their trips, everything. But the hardest part was realizing they no longer lived in neighboring houses, where she might find them in her kitchen in the morning, munching on cookies, but across an ocean.
Years passed, and the distance grew. Not just physical, but emotional. They all grew up. Started families, lost families. She didn’t expect an answer when she called that familiar number, unchanged after all this time.
Thankfully, not all threads break. They stretch, they tangle, but they hold.
People crowded the aisle, though the plane hadn’t even stopped, and the weary flight attendant gave up trying to get passengers to sit. Caitlyn usually wasn’t in a rush at all, she could’ve been the last to disembark, even from her front-row seat. At first, such disregard for safety protocols irked her, but over time she grew calmer, imagining they all had a connecting flight in three minutes. Three minutes they’d promptly waste waiting for the attendant to open the door, missing their next plane and spending the night in a chilly airport.
She snorted with laughter.
Nine minutes later, most passengers were hurrying through the jet bridge into the terminal. She stood, adjusting her soft blue sweatshirt, paired with comfy black leggings and black sneakers – perfect for an eight-hour flight. With ease, she retrieved her metallic carry-on from the overhead compartment, placed her bag on top, securing it to the handle, and rolled toward the exit.
A few smiles later and fresh air greeted her warmly. An empty water bottle dangled in her hand. But the real fun was just beginning. Claim baggage – load it onto a cart – avoid running over strangers’ feet – find the exit – catch a taxi – get to the apartment – lug the suitcases. Simple as that.
A few minutes before takeoff, when she’d delayed switching to airplane mode, a text from Fel popped up, saying she couldn’t pick her up. Yes, Caitlyn had been counting on an extra pair of hands, managing three suitcases alone was no small feat. Yes.
The crowd was massive, as always, clustering right by the baggage claim belt. A simple two steps back, and everyone could see if their suitcase was rolling by. But no, why do that when you can nervously hover over the soulless machine, practically climbing onto it? Delightful, give me two.
Caitlyn wasn’t in a good mood, no use hiding it. She was definitely in a foul one. Ready to snap at the first poor soul, though she tried deep breathing to chase those thoughts away.
Two giants, like twin brothers, rolled toward her – the suitcases, matching her carry-on in style. Did she lift the first one on her first try? No. Absolutely not. Did she manage to get the second onto the cart on her first attempt? Still no. Was irritation seeping from every pore? Was steam practically visible as she boiled, angry at herself? Yes. At least that was a clear yes.
On the cart lay fifty-six kilograms of belongings. The essentials and favorites she’d brought from England. The rest went to donations, especially her ex-wife’s gifts. Her taste was… distinctive. A taste that didn’t give a toss about Caitlyn’s preferences.
An elevator, she needed an elevator to avoid the escalator. Though… tumbling down the stairs might be quicker, with a chance to lie down for a bit.
She was so unpleasant when tired, or sick, or hungry – quite a few states, really. But she kept it bottled up, remaining an unassailable ice queen on the outside.
She slowly approached the exit, pushing the cart. The arrivals area was packed with people. Men with flowers, weeping women, and… a knight.
Wait, what?!
She almost tripped over her own foot. Off to the side stood a knight. In full, polished armor, complete with a closed helmet. The lights gleamed pleasantly off the metal. What the heck?!
But the most astonishing part wasn’t that – it was that the person inside the armor was definitely holding a sign with her name and “Sprout” in parentheses. No mistake here, this had to be for her, but… who?
Caitlyn approached, half-confident, half-uncertain, trying to gauge from the height and build who it could be. Too short for Jayce. Too muscular for Mel.
She reached for the visor, desperate to see the face. She urgently needed to know who thought this was a brilliant idea.
“Milady,” came an unfamiliar, pleasant female voice, “may I escort you to your chambers?”
The girl dipped into a graceful bow, causing the visor to snap back down, concealing her face. Caitlyn didn’t know how to react, whether to feel awkward or burst out laughing at the absurdity under the weight of exhaustion and jet lag.
“Ahem, and what face hides behind my gallant knight’s helm?” She kept her hand poised but didn’t touch.
“Your wish is my command.” The woman’s hands reached for the helmet, carefully removing it as pink hair threatened to catch in the joints.
Before her stood a young woman with a radiant smile and striking gray eyes. A scar on her upper lip caught Caitlyn’s attention, almost beckoning her to act. No. What? Keep it together, Kiramman, you don’t even know her. The professor had to remind herself that staring was rude – especially at lips like those.
“I’m Vi, Felicia’s daughter,” she said, and Caitlyn immediately saw the resemblance in her features and the wild hair color that clearly ran in their family.
Add to that: staring is rude, especially at the daughters of your friends.
“Caitlyn Kiramman,” she extended her hand, and Vi looked at it with a mischievous glint. “A longtime friend of your mother’s. So, you’re my knight in shining armor?”
“Something like that, Caitlyn Kiramman.” The girl took her hand, still clad in a metal gauntlet, and deftly brought it to her lips, leaving a subtle kiss.
Caitlyn’s eyes widened, and she yanked her hand back, more in confusion than irritation. “What are you—?”
Vi wasn’t fazed in the least, only amused by the reaction. “If you’re gonna play, play to the end.”
If this was just a joke, Caitlyn hoped it’d never stop.
“Please don’t tell me we’re riding a horse?” Caitlyn adjusted the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
“Nope,” Vi grabbed the cart and rolled it toward the exit, placing the helmet and sign on the suitcases. Caitlyn exhaled. “A carriage.”
What?! What kind of carri—
Vi’s eyes scanned Caitlyn’s face, and she nearly choked, watching the woman’s alarmed reaction. The girl burst into laughter. The professor wanted to scold her, to reproach her for something, but caught herself softly smiling, amused at how easily she’d been had.
Vi stumbled when she saw a spark of something like interest flicker in those blue eyes.
…
At the parking lot, a beige Countryman Mini Cooper awaited them. Though, if you think about it logically, it wasn’t all that mini. Quite maxi, really – room for five, and with some effort, you could probably squeeze in two more.
Vi opened the trunk, and to Caitlyn’s surprise, as she reached to help, Vi deftly tossed in all the suitcases, the sign, the helmet, the gauntlets, the breastplate, and—
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Caitlyn was definitely staring.
Vi continued shedding the armor, her t-shirt riding up slightly to reveal a toned set of abs. “Huh? What?” If Caitlyn had been more exhausted, she might’ve literally drooled, not just figuratively.
“May I ask why you're undressing?” the professor cleared her throat, looking away and grabbing her bag.
“You think it’s comfy driving in this metal trap? In summer? In this heat?” Vi was clearly enjoying herself.
Embarrassing. Caitlyn cut her off. “Point taken. You’re right.” She slid into the car without looking at her, trying to gather her thoughts.
Good heavens, Kiramman, what’s wrong with you today? She’s Fel’s daughter – don’t lose your mind! She buckled her seatbelt, attempting to draw invisible boundaries and set firm limits. Controlling her breathing, she repeated like a mantra that this was just fatigue, and Vi was absolutely not her type.
Okay, fine, she’d admit it, in certain circles, she was known as a bit of a womanizer. Yes, the strict, ever-composed Caitlyn didn’t shy away from indulging when beautiful women threw themselves at her feet. Was that a problem? Not for her. For her wife, very much so.
That marriage wasn’t about love. It was a calculated move for mutual benefit. A union within high society, bolstering both families’ positions. Only, no one considered Caitlyn’s opinion, or even asked. She simply found herself in a building, not even at an altar, signing papers. She was twenty-three and thought it was for the best, especially since, by then, she’d grown disillusioned with women when your last name is Kiramman.
Years passed. Nothing changed. Except, perhaps, Maddy’s persistence. She started pushing for a child, for Caitlyn to stop her escapades, and for them to move into a separate house. The Kiramman estate in England no longer sufficed. Maddy complained about how skillfully Caitlyn hid from her in it, and that irritation only grew with each passing year.
One of those days, the professor ripped off the bandage, entirely painlessly, and filed for divorce. It was time to grow a spine with her mother and choose herself, while it wasn’t entirely too late, while life hadn’t yet sunk into a pit with a wife she loathed and an unwanted child.
The driver’s door swung open. Caitlyn closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the headrest. She heard the click of the seatbelt, the jingle of keys, the engine starting. And she heard Vi softly humming something sweet, and, unfortunately, caught a floral scent. So pleasant and light.
“Address?”
What? Caitlyn looked at the girl sitting so close, uncomprehending. Her lips were definitely moving, but her heart-shaped face and scattering of freckles distracted the professor from actually hearing anything.
“Caitlyn?” Vi looked a touch concerned.
“Yes?” she turned away sharply.
“Wanna tell me the address to take you to, or are we off on a quest to find your apartment, relying on my intuition?” She’s funny, Caitlyn thought.
Instead of answering, she reached for the GPS and typed in the address. No words, just a friendly smile. She was starting to realize she was far too exhausted and needed to switch to energy-saving mode, and cool off, even if the muscles on Vi’s forearms and her gorgeous hand on the gearshift were distracting Caitlyn from her mantra.
This could’ve been a holiday fling. Somewhere on a beach in Miami or Hawaii. They’d sip cocktails, sunbathe, swim, and spend evenings endlessly chatting about nothing. Maybe go on an excursion or hike in the mountains. And in the end, they’d part ways, remembering each other as a pleasant adventure. But even in that light, it all felt wrong and unacceptable.
Even if Caitlyn hadn’t watched Vi grow up, hadn’t helped raise her, hadn’t read her bedtime stories or changed her diapers. It still felt like the delirium of a mortally exhausted mind.
Significant age gap – check.
Wildly different personalities – check.
Family connection, even if not by blood – check.
(Though she didn’t know why she was even thinking about this. She hadn’t seen Fel in ages, they were hardly as close as before. The fact that Felicia answered her call and sent her daughter to pick her up and help with the luggage meant nothing.)
And besides, maybe Vi isn’t into women – check?
What nonsense, Kiramman? A carabiner and a ring on her thumb. Though, she could look any way and love anyone. It’s a free country. Yes, that’s right. She’s not into women – decided. CHECK!
Caitlyn was ready to bury her face in behind palms, feeling utterly powerless because, for some reason, she couldn’t stop. Even if it was just in her head, it felt like full-blown teenage gay panic. But she wasn’t a teenager. She was a grown, accomplished, confident woman. She intimidated people with a single cold glance. This should be easy, so why was it so nerve-wracking?
Just half an hour from the airport, and they were in Manhattan. The warm evening draped softly over the streets, the sky still glowing with the last traces of sunset, and the air drifted into the car through open windows.
From the speakers came enveloping basslines, slightly intoxicating, the voice raspy, as if speaking fantastic to someone close, almost whispering in their ear. The music pulsed in sync with the car’s movement, blending into the city’s hum.
“So, Queens is still home for everyone?” Despite the simplicity of the question, she genuinely wanted to know.
“Not exactly,” Vi glanced briefly at Caitlyn. “Mom and sis, yeah, but I moved to Brooklyn recently. Tasting a bit of that grown-up, independent life, you know?”
“That does sound familiar,” Caitlyn smiled. “Though for me, it all began before I’d even finished high school.”
“Is that why you went to England?”
“Yes, Mother wanted me to be educated there, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to say no.” A hint of sadness laced her words.
“Why?” Vi frowned. “Didn’t you want to stay? I can’t imagine just up and leaving to another continent while my family stays here.”
“It’s hardly so simple when one is raised by an authoritarian mother, Violet.”
“How did you kn—?” Vi faltered, embarrassed, but realization hit when she caught Caitlyn’s smug grin. “She promised not to tell…” Her last words were a whisper.
“She certainly didn’t tell me,” The professor chuckled. “More likely, she conveyed it in a message. Either way, while you may prefer Vi, I do favour Violet.”
“Auntie Caitlyn, are you flirting with me?” A grin lit up the girl’s face.
“Ugh, no. I’m hardly your auntie, leave that to Mel and Jayce. First names will do nicely, if you please.”
“Deal.”
A comfortable silence settled between them. They were quickly nearing their destination.
“So tell me, Violet, what occupies your days? Are you engrossed in university pursuits or perhaps engaged in some professional endeavor?” She tried to sound nonchalant.
“Studying at uni. Major in business, minor in art.” Caitlyn nodded.
“How intriguing,” the professor mused, as Vi continued.
“I want to open my own gym after graduation. Create a safe space for people who feel shy or scared to start, y`know? A couple of years ago, I faced some, well, hostility from men at my old gym, and that’s when I thought I could be the one to try and—” She cut herself off abruptly.
“That’s rather charming,” Caitlyn offered a kind smile, careful not to press, seeing how awkward it was for Vi to admit. “And what about the art?”
“For the soul,” Vi grinned broadly, stopping at a traffic light. “I love, y`know, sketching, messing around with plugins in Fruity Loops, just small stuff.”
“Small stuff?” Caitlyn raised a brow, intrigued. “So small that you chose it as your minor at university?” She smiled.
“Well,” Vi ran a hand through the hair at the back of her neck, gathering her thoughts. “I enjoy those hobbies, so I figured I could afford to learn the technical side too.”
“That’s commendable. I daresay your mother must be proud of you.”
“I hope so, ‘cause I still gotta tell her I smashed up her truck.” Caitlyn’s eyes widened as she turned to look at Vi, who met her with a mischievous smirk. They burst into laughter, giving in to the moment.
Their conversation flowed smoothly, effortlessly even. They shared bits about themselves without fear of judgment over embarrassing trifles. Caitlyn unconsciously sought to make up for lost time. She wanted to know what Fel, Jayce, and Mel had become, how Vi had grown up, and why it was a blessing that Jinx was the younger sister, not the older one.
She learned Vi had taken on responsibility early, looking after her sister and two boys adopted by Vander. After her father’s death, things were rough until they opened their first bar, bought by chance from Vander’s friend Benzo, who was more into antiques than entertainment venues. Now it was a chain of bars along the East Coast.
Vi learned Caitlyn is a professor at the same university and, perhaps, was a touch disappointed their paths wouldn’t cross there, as Vi had already completed any law-related courses. Caitlyn, though, found this reassuring. She didn’t want to influence Vi’s degree from the other side of the desk. This was better if she hoped to reconnect and re-enter this family’s life.
Vi parked by a skyscraper, clearly offering a stunning city view. It had grown noticeably darker, streetlights glowing, fewer people on the streets.
“Fancy,” Vi whistled, stepping out of the car.
“Oh, don’t play coy,” Caitlyn’s cheeks flushed slightly as she caught Vi’s teasing tone. “You live in your own apartment in Brooklyn and can afford not to work.”
Vi chuckled but didn’t mention she worked part-time at one of their bars in the same area. It might be amusing when Caitlyn shows up there a bit tipsy. According to her mom, the professor was no stranger to such places. In her youth, she preferred clubs, but with age, she gravitated toward quieter bars. Though The Last Drop wasn’t exactly a tranquil spot, well, time would tell.
“I’ll help with your stuff. Can you grab the carry-on?” Vi opened the trunk, pulling out the suitcases one by one, setting them on the sidewalk.
“Of course, just allow me a moment to find the keys.” Caitlyn rummaged through her purse, suddenly feeling Vi’s hand slip under the bag, supporting its weight. Her gaze lingered warmly, patiently waiting for the woman to find the jangling keys.
It was pleasantly quick when you didn’t have to drag two heavy suitcases. Sure, they had wheels, but a woman’s allowed to be tired and cranky, alright?
Vi effortlessly rolled them into the elevator, holding the door for Caitlyn. They stood in silence against opposite walls, the luggage between them a silent witness and visual barrier. The ride up was long, but Caitlyn didn’t want it to end. She enjoyed Vi’s company, her scent, the color of her hair, the sound of her voice, and that warm, welcoming gaze. The girl knew she was a Kiramman but never once judged her like others did.
The elevator dinged, and they reached the top. A small landing with a single door. A penthouse. Caitlyn preferred them to grand, ostentatious mansions. The view of sunsets and sunrises was splendid, of course. Plus, it was secure – no one could get up without a special card. So, her meddlesome ex could only shout from below, and voice would never be reaching Caitlyn. That realization sparked a wide smile.
They stepped inside. Vi set the suitcases down, awkwardly lingering by the door. Caitlyn turned, unsure what to say.
“Well, it`s my cue. Have a good night, Caitlyn.” She started backing toward the threshold. “Oh, crap, almost forgot,” she hadn’t forgotten, she was just nervous. “Mom’s throwing a pool party on Saturday. Just for the inner circle. Everyone you know, plus the kids, obviously. So, I hope you’re free and will grace us with your presence, princess?”
“Princess?” That threw Caitlyn off. “You can’t call me that, Vi.”
“Only for today, while I’ve still got the armor.” What a beautiful face she has and soft voice. I’d love to touch—
“Very well, I shall be there.” Caitlyn cleared her throat. “Please ask Fel to send me the address, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Vi gave a playful salute and waved goodbye, slipping into the elevator.
…
Did Vi think, when her mom asked her to pick up old friend from the airport and help with her stuff, that this friend would be a goddamn goddess? No, not at all, a resounding no. Sure, she’d seen their childhood photos and could’ve guessed, given how put-together her honorary aunts and uncles were, but this… this was a nightmare. A disaster, a total mess.
Vi caught a crush in two seconds flat, just by looking into those stunning, mind-blowing eyes. The way Caitlyn looked back, surprised and curious… everything else was risky improv to hide her blushing cheeks.
She tried to breathe deeply, subtly, to keep her heart from racing when they sat so close in the car. And when Caitlyn smiled at her so carefree, or when Vi caught her glances during the drive.
Vi got into the car and drove straight home. She’d drop the mini off tomorrow. She preferred motorcycles, but suitcases don’t exactly ride well on them. Unless you extend the handle and roll them alongside while speeding down the highway.
When Caitlyn asked questions, Vi wanted to spill everything, but she held back politely. Especially when they talked about family.
She barely remembered her dad but vividly recalled how Vander and Felicia raised four kids as a team, constantly covering for each other. As Vi grew older, she took on responsibilities beyond her years. But seeing how hard those two worked for them, she didn’t mind helping, even when Jinx threw tantrums over oatmeal being too hot or crayons not being colorful enough.
Jayce and Mel helped often but couldn’t be more involved, building their own lives. Fel never blamed them, only cheering their academic and personal successes, while she gave up university to raise two kids.
She was pregnant when Connol died in a car accident. A truck recklessly veered into a roundabout, crushing his car. They got compensation, but how could that ever be enough when the love of your life is taken so suddenly and unfairly…
It was tough and took time Vi could’ve spent on teenage mischief. But it was worth it in the end. Considering their tight bond with her sister, her mom, and Vander’s family, who were now family too. Mel and Jayce, who became honorary aunt and uncle to the sisters. With Jayce, by the way, Vi was a perfect match – training together, goofing off together. They clicked instantly when, at three, Vi saw him watching wrestling and tried to tackle the man onto the living room rug, and he played along.
Fel saw that moment as pivotal, sparking Vi’s dive into sports. Joining every school club possible and getting a gym membership at the first chance. Jayce was roped into going with her for safety. He grumbled, complaining he didn’t want to babysit this wild kid, but never refused and was quick to follow Vi to lift weights together.
Mel found her calling in tech, and over time, she noticed Jinx listening intently to her chatter about new projects at her firm. After that, Mel started bringing the girl spare parts, fueling her curiosity and letting her experiment. Soon, everything in the house was fixed. Then Vander’s place, since he was too busy and exhausted to deal with it. Then the bar. During renovations, Jinx rewired the place, sorted out the ventilation, and figured out the plumbing to stop the leaks.
At one point, they hit rock bottom, but the sturdy shoulders of loved ones helped rebuild their lives. Improved their quality of life and, most importantly, gave the kids the freedom to choose who they wanted to be and what they wanted to do.
The car still carried a trail of bergamot, violet, and a faint bitterness of leather, like an echo of cold grace and something elusively personal. Vi wanted to pressed her nose to the headrest, but she was above that, more mature, wiser.
Yeah, that’s how it was (is).