Work Text:
Let them think you work here.
To say she’s off-kilter would be an understatement as Caitlyn watches Vi disappear down the corridor. Then, to make matters worse, this Pim whoever is clearly disinterested in her fumbling which, in Caitlyn’s opinion, is both incredibly rude and terribly refreshing.
The last time Caitlyn Kiramman, only heir to House Kiramman, had a would-be suitor walk away might have been that time when she’d been thirteen and really dumb and well the less said about that the better.
You have to let them believe you have what they want.
But she can’t really—Caitlyn’s never really been able to pretend much.
It’s one of those things Mother’s always tried to help her with.
Not because you must, Caitlyn, but because it can be beneficial. You’ll never know when you need to play nice with all sorts of characters.
Yes, darling, even men.
And therein lies the problem. Caitlyn’s never been able to flirt with men. She’s not, well, she’s not entirely incapable of it per se. If there were a knife to her throat she supposes she’d figure it out.
It’s just that she’s never been good at pretending and she’s never been into men so…
She takes a deep breath, alone in the corridor now that Pim’s gone off in search of a good time. Then she presses her hands to her face.
There’s no time for a pity party, Caitlyn Kiramman. You are in the bowels of the beast. You’re here to get information. You are on a mission and if that means you have to find a woman to seduce then so be it.
Find one.
Caitlyn’s not a prude but she’s never been to a brothel so she doesn’t exactly know how this system works. So far, she’s seen a few different themed rooms just walking down this corridor, seen folks with masks on and masks off. Both Pim and some of the others have had masks on. Clients only? Perhaps also the workers?
It’s unclear. She supposes she’ll figure it out as she’ll have to figure out everything else.
She walks past a few empty rooms, then pauses outside one.
It’s lush with fake greenery, surprisingly good imitations of stuffed animals—she recognizes an attempt at a stuffed pheasant. This is likely going to be as good as it gets, in terms of conversation topics. She can talk about the gardens, about hunting, about game.
She takes a deep breath and settles herself down on the chaise lounge, lowering her gun case to the floor and sliding it under the chair.
Then she waits.
“I thought Artemis wasn’t in today,” comes the slightly confused soft feminine lilt.
Doe brown eyes behind an feathered mask, bare skin on a lithe frame, her prey stands there by the entrance.
So this room belongs to an Artemis.
How apt.
“Artemis isn’t—” she says with the arch of her eyebrows that she knows brings out the color of her eyes “—but I am, if you’d have me, my lady.”
“Oh, but I—” those eyes dart around “—I’m afraid I don’t have a deal with anyone else—”
Caitlyn can taste it in the air. Why would she ever bother with men when women are so delicious?
She tilts her head and notes the way those eyes don’t leave hers.
“Dove.”
Hook.
“It matters not,” Caitlyn says. “Consider this a little special something for a special little bird. A treat, if you must, from Artemis.”
She watches the tips of the woman’s ears color from behind the mask.
Line.
“Come, have a seat.”
Caitlyn pats the seat next to her lightly.
Then she smiles, wide enough for her canines to peek through, enough to see the way her prey freezes stock still.
“I only bite if you want me to.”
The woman draws closer, almost tentatively.
Sinker.
From this distance, even though the mask covers most of her features, Caitlyn can tell that her prey is pretty. Caitlyn would like to think she’s not entirely shallow but there’s a purr of pleasure that grows warm in her at the notion of being able to openly flirt with a beautiful woman.
It’s been too long.
The cushion of the upholstery sinks, soft beneath her prey’s knees.
Caitlyn stores that information away for later, as she does the movement outside the curtain. Short, yordle. Not Vi. Irrelevant.
Her attention sweeps back to the woman next to her, close enough for the waft of something flowery and sweet, close enough for her to be seen.
And oh does her prey look.
Caitlyn can feel the weight of that gaze travel the length of her body, up from her boots, lingering on her fingers, across her chest, then up, up, up.
“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” her prey breathes.
Caitlyn chuckles softly.
“It’s hard to be the judge of that when yours are hidden from me by this—” she reaches out and brushes the edge of the feathered mask with her hand, trailing her fingers slowly down onto the softness of the woman’s cheek.
She holds her hand there for the three heartbeats it takes for her prey’s lips to part. From her peripheral vision she can see the woman’s throat bob in a swallow.
Caitlyn tips her head slightly.
“Well, dove?”
She lets her hand fall slowly to her prey’s jaw, running her thumb across the soft, soft skin.
“Will you take it off for me?”
They’re so close she can hear the sharp intake of breath.
She knows she’s asking for a lot but Caitlyn’s feeling a little reckless today, feeling a little daring. She wants to be right. She wants to win.
She waits, hunter’s eyes fixed on her target.
Her prey unmasks herself and as she does, Caitlyn reaches over and takes it from her, brushing trembling fingers with her own, keeping it on her lap.
“You’re beautiful, darling.”
It’s true and it’s absolutely delectable, the way she can hear the stutter in her prey’s breath at the curled consonant in her mouth.
Oh, she’s hit the jackpot with this one, with the way those brown eyes are fixed on her lips.
“You’re so good to me—” she leans a little closer “—is there anything you’d like me to do for you?”
The little jolt, the sharp flick of a gaze upwards, that blush spreading prettily, oh this is worth everything.
“This is neither the place nor time to be shy, don’t you think?”
She’s gradually steering the conversation, a soft chuckle at the mention of the taxidermied animals, a brief touch to the elbow at the note of cultivars, a hint at herbs and medicinal spices.
“The gardens are beautiful this time of year,” she says and watches her prey’s eyes grow wide, watches the stars hang themselves in the reflection of her eyes.
“I’ve only imagined the gardens. This is all I’ve seen.”
I’ll have to take you some time is what she wants to say, to change the subject, maybe talk about the upcoming solstice instead. She’ll find something. It can’t be that hard.
Then she sees a figure in red pause by the doorway before those familiar shoulders move along.
It’s Vi.
Damn it. She should have known. Of course—
“Dove—” she reaches a hand out, lifting those surprised fingers to her lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her prey’s knuckles “—I’ve enjoyed our time together but I must go.”
She feels at least a crumb of guilt at the look of disappointment but she doesn’t have the time to wallow in it because she knows just how fast Vi is when she wants to be.
“Will I see you again? What should I call you?”
“If my hunt goes well tonight,” says Caitlyn, “I’ll find you.”
She pulls her gun case out from under the chaise lounge and she runs.