Archive of Our Own

Waylay’s presence was never going to be an uncontroversial matter in the protocol. While she appreciated T’s vouch to get her to chip in with training, she quickly realized that such an intervention, though necessary, required a lot of toe-stepping that she had certainly not asked for. Reyna especially was remarkably displeased by the turn of events, with Waylay’s work directly altering the schedule of the training performed with her fellow radiants. Sage, too, was miffed, though substantially less so, enduring whatever indignity of the Thai woman’s arrival with what she had quickly come to realize was the monk’s perpetual stoicism.

The younger ones she had mostly swayed to at least appreciate her presence, with a number of them beginning to call her auntie, a nickname she had mixed feelings about. Most others showed some respect or at least remained friendly with her, friendlier than they were with T at any rate. Apparently, he and Brimstone had some sort of history. She wasn’t privy to it, and had decided at this point that fact was for the better.

All to say, she had cultivated a pretty clear-cut relationship, be it friendly or unfriendly, on most of the protocol’s ranks at that point, with a particular exception. Sabine Callas, though few would be caught dead saying that name in her presence, remained an interminably inscrutable figure. At first the impression had been simple, someone stoic like Sage, avoidant like Fade or Yoru, and a bit eccentric like Killjoy. Certainly not a healthy combination, but the woman was protocol seniority, any attempt to help directly was out of the question.

First impressions, though, had a tendency to omit part of the full story, and Viper was no exception. Despite Viper’s usual habit of holing up in her lab or office without another soul present, Waylay had begun to notice her occasionally coming by to spectate training sessions, frowning and taking notes as the duelist led the younger ones through rep after rep, team-building exercise after team-building exercise. That was the flaw, she had realized, one mostly covered through good tactics and careful preparation, but still present, nonetheless. The agents, even when trained as a group, were still learning individual skills, what teamwork they did exercise in the field usually came from a premeditated plan rather than improvised coordination. Having agents learn to work together on the fly wasn’t an easy skill to teach, but hey, if it was, they wouldn’t have hired her to teach it.

On one particular occasion, she spied the chemist peering through the glass pane on the far side of the training facility. She was focused, separated from the chaos and yet intimately integrated into it, her eyes following every movement as though she herself was one of the robotic training drones. It did not take long for Viper to notice that she was being watched, and she immediately slipped her notebook into her bag and moved to leave. Spying an opportunity, Waylay regrouped the team.

“Reyna, they’re yours for the rest of the training. Call it a favor.” She winked.

Reyna sneered. “I owe you nothing, cariño, but if you’ll relinquish my charges back to me, I will hardly object.”

Waylay saluted and backed out the door. “Sounds good! Jett, little wind, don’t forget that exercise we talked about! I want to see it better next week!”

As soon as the door was closed behind her and the room out of sight, Waylay immediately sprinted in the direction she had seen Viper leave, swiftly and smoothly catching up to tap her on the shoulder.

Viper started as she whipped around, clearly not anticipating Waylay to catch up with her. “Yes?”

“How am I doing, coach?” Waylay pointedly cast her gaze at Viper’s messenger bag where the notebook still remained.

Viper sighed. “Satisfactory. They’re clearly improving, maybe I’ll only see Phoenix rushing headfirst without a plan eight times out of ten instead of nine.”

She smiled. “Here’s to getting it down to two before the next mission, then.”

Viper snorted. “As if. Just because you can get a lick of sense into their adrenaline-filled brains doesn’t mean you’ll keep them from being danger magnets.”

“Mm, but that’s not all I’m doing. Maybe they act smarter in the danger and get their sorry asses out alive, yeah?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Waylay gently poked her ribs. “You’ll eat your words. Catch ya later, Vipes!” She saluted and dashed back through the hallway before the exasperated sigh could finish leaving the chemist’s mouth.

~

Viper didn’t stop watching the training, and eventually Waylay convinced her to be dragged into the training room.

Waylay waved. “Hey, you’re one of the big planners out there, why don’t we set up a simulation?”

Viper stepped back, avoiding the curious gaze of the agents before her. “I’m leaving.”

“Nuh uh. C’mon, it’s an opportunity for some proper experience! Give them something to execute, let things go wrong, see how they improvise!”

She sighed. “Fine. Let’s do a simple bind setup. You creep up hookah; once you’re spotted, stop hiding and start rushing. Their rotation will be faster than yours, so don’t rotate unless you have to.”

The assembled agents nodded awkwardly.

“Is she gonna stick around?” Phoenix piped up. “I can feel her staring me down and we haven’t even started yet.”

“Oh, chill out Phoenix.” Waylay patted Viper’s shoulder. “She gives you the plans in the field, it’s good practice. I’ll make sure she plays nice. Right, Viper?”

Viper groaned. “Right.”

The practice went quite smoothly, all told. Plans went drastically awry, but that was the intention, and everyone showed impressively good course-correction and strategic improvisation, something the youngsters had previously largely deferred to the more senior agents, if any planning was done at all.

“See?” she remarked after the other agents had filtered out. “They’re improving!”

Viper frowned. “They’re still not executing the initial plan very well.”

Waylay waved her hand dismissively. “You know they always do that better in the field. What’s changing is how well they do once that initial plan goes to shit.”

Viper sighed. “I’ll give you that, I suppose.”

“You gonna write that in your notebook, then?”

The chemist shifted awkwardly. “Right. Yes. I’ll do that.”

She poked Viper in the ribs again. “Loosen up boss, it was a joke! Anyway, I’ve got a meeting with Brim in a bit. I’ll see you later!”

“Uh, sure.”

Waylay hopped out of the training hall over to Brimstone’s office, knocking once before allowing herself in. As the meeting commenced, they started discussing various happenings and some practical matters of the upcoming training schedule. Eventually, though, Waylay broke the question.

“So, how’s Viper’s report on me looking?”

Brimstone looked at her, confused. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Now Waylay was off-balance. “Oh, she’s just by every few training sessions jotting things down in her pad. Seemed out of character so I figured it was something she was coordinating with you.”

Brimstone shrugged. “If it is, I’m out of the loop. I can ask her, if you like.”

Her mouth opened to assent, then she hesitated. If Viper started getting scrutinized for something she was doing on her own, she might just stop. Did Waylay really want that?

“Nah, I’ll handle it myself, it’s fine,” she replied.

Brimstone nodded. “Okay. Figured I’d offer. Hey, at least that means she’s leaving her office.”

Waylay smiled. “My thoughts exactly.”

~

Progress was not a linear phenomenon, particularly when dealing with the Protocol’s younger agents.

Some days were wonderful, and Waylay wondered if she was finally getting through to some of them. Repetition appeared to have cemented some difficult lessons, while their movements grew more fluid and confident with each iteration. They stopped peeking corners and taking unnecessary risks and began using their utility more supportively; setting plays for their teammates instead of only for themselves, to the point that Waylay imagined she might actually begin producing results.

But then Phoenix let overconfidence grab him by the scruff of his neck and carry him forward recklessly, or Gekko would lose control of his little friends, or Neon’s judgment faltered as her metabolism wore her out. And before long, they were right back to square one in some respects.

Two steps forward, one step back. But progress was not linear, and could not always be measured in leaps and bounds, but rather in the little things. At least, that was what she told herself to ease her distress as she watched Phoenix once again leap out from a safe corner position and right into the line of fire. The reactive sensors in his vest hummed, his readouts flashed bright red on the monitor screens, and Waylay’s hand raced to her eyes as though instinctively protecting her from the embarrassment of watching him trip into yet another easy mistake.

Two steps forward, one step back.

And the whole time, on the other side of the training facility, behind that tinted glass divider elevated over the main training room floor, Viper stood and watched.

It was difficult to gauge her mood at a distance, but Waylay could see her notebook in hand and knew she was paying close attention. The question on her mind was what, exactly, was she paying attention to? Because she noticed several times that Viper’s eyes darted away from the trainees and lingered on her, as though Waylay herself was part of the training experience. 

Getting a performance review from the boss? Or is this something else entirely? Before long, Waylay was spending more time watching Viper observe than she was on monitoring her trainees. In the blink of an eye, the session was up, Reyna was coming in to collect her charges and shepherd them off to the locker room to get them prepped for PT (which they all collectively groaned about), and she was left alone on the training room floor.

Only then did Viper step away and disappear, reappearing shortly afterwards on the training floor and beelining in her direction. Waylay made her best attempt at projecting the persona of a proud steward, sensing Viper’s disappointment from afar. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire - and judging by the smoke racing in her direction, there was one hell of a wildfire raging.

“Could have gone better,” Waylay admitted, with a lopsided smile, as if to stave off the imminent burn. “Could have gone worse, though, what with the-”

“They’re doing fine,” Viper interjected. “They still make mistakes. They have time to improve further. I didn’t come down here to talk about them.”

Waylay shrugged uncertainly. “Well, alright then.”

What else should she say? Her head was spinning as she realized that her intuition had failed her, and Viper was not about to bite her head off for the failures of her wards. What, then, was she after? 

“So一” she prompted.

Viper rolled her eyes. “ They were fine. You somehow spent more time looking up at me than you did chaperoning them. You had ample opportunities to call out improper moves, guide them to the right positions, and generally make your presence felt.”

Waylay bit her lip. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. I want to know why you were watching me.”

Viper’s clipped tone betrayed no playfulness, no humor. Waylay looked at her askance, wondering what sort of answer the woman was looking for while internally debating what the truth actually was. Rather than attempting answering the question or disentangling her own fomenting thoughts about the aloof chemist, she seized an escape route.

“Let me ask you a question of my own,” she said, then before Viper could even protest: “Why were you watching me in the first place?”

Viper squinted, silent for a few seconds, as though she had not heard the question. After a spell, she balked.

“I was not watching you.”

Waylay squinted skeptically, placing a hand on her hip. “You most definitely were.”

“I have a job to do. I was doing my job.”

“And is that job me?”

Waylay sensed she had crossed some sort of line, foolishly walking herself right past some elusive point of no return. But if Viper saw fit to punish her for insolence or insubordination, it seemed, for now at least, that her tongue would be held. Not dignifying the question with a response and with a sharp turn on her heel, the chemist stalked off the way she had come. Watching her leave, Waylay couldn’t help but notice how her notebook remained clutched tightly to the contours of her suit as she walked, as though she was protecting it. 

What was she writing about this whole time, anyway? Now more than ever, she really wanted to know.

~

A whole week passed before Waylay made up her mind about how to proceed.

Viper remained a mystery to her. While she had cemented her standing with nearly everybody else, with some notable exceptions (Omen, it seemed, refused to make his presence public), Viper remained difficult to pin down. 

She hates you.

And yet, Viper continued to watch her during training sessions. Viper made no effort to avoid her at communal events, though she seemed to wish to avoid the communal events themselves. Viper was never rude or unkind to her, not once.

She likes you?

But Viper’s gaze during those sessions was cold, distant, almost scrutinizing. Their interactions at said communal events were brief and fleeting, the chemist seeking to distance herself from most everything and everybody as quickly as possible. Her words were neither venomous nor demeaning, but nor did they contain praise and certainly not affection. She could be described as standoffish, and yet she was never too far away from Waylay.

So what was going on? Waylay had half a mind to do something drastic, but she decided against it and settled on a more mundane approach: one-on-one time, ideally somewhere private but professional, to help her gauge what exactly the chemist was thinking.

The email that she sent was direct and concise, exactly the way Viper would have wanted it. The reply was even shorter, just the way Viper always did.

I’m free at 1. 

So at 12:30 the next day, Waylay excused herself from a planned lunch with Sage and hastily made her way across the base to Viper’s office, knowing that she would be early. She hoped that would not only help her make a good impression, it would also buy her some insurance against making a mistake.

Despite her best efforts, the Protocol’s expansive base remained a labyrinth in her mind. She had studied maps and followed signs but still managed to take wrong turns or end up on the wrong floor. Of all prior occasions for navigating the base’s various halls, today was one where she did not want to end up halfway across HQ only to realize she was in the wrong sector. Carefully navigating her way out of the more pleasant and airy communal section and finding herself striding down cold concrete corridors, she initially wondered if she made a mistake. Thankfully, her anxieties were eased with the sight of the laboratories and utility rooms up ahead, putting her squarely where she had planned to be. Viper’s office was separate from many of the others - nearer to her lab, isolated and difficult to locate, just the way she liked it. Hence, Waylay found herself surprised to arrive there ten minutes ahead of schedule.

She was even more surprised to find the door unlocked, slightly ajar, and the office lights on with no Viper in sight.

Such a misstep seemed very uncharacteristic of her, so Waylay waited at first, standing idly at the door and clasping her hands behind her back as if to make herself appear more professional. But when ten minutes passed and Viper had still not returned, she began to grow impatient. She even waited another five minutes, just to be polite, but the chemist had still not shown up.

Impatient and admittedly curious, Waylay at last succumbed to impish impulses and eased the door open to admit herself. You’re just going to take a seat, and behave yourself, she insisted, but that assertion lasted only five seconds when she spied the notebook sitting out on Viper’s desk, unattended.

Viper’s office was unsurprisingly well-organized, with even clutter and detritus shoved off into their own section. It was also sparsely furnished, with only necessities present; Viper would not trifle with anything that she did not need for her work. Filing cabinets were alphabetically organized, bookshelves hosted only practical manuals and textbooks, her desk was organized into sectors for the various tools of her trade, and only a single chair was provided for guests. The implication was clear: there will be no casual conversations held here. This is a place for business.

And then there was the notebook.

It was simple, lacking embroidery, not even identifiable as Viper’s. If Waylay hadn’t seen it in her hands so many times, she might have simply overlooked it. But now it sat there, unprotected and within reach, calling to her. She of course knew it was wrong; this was another person’s private property, and it no doubt held great value for Viper. But it might also hold sensitive information, or even secrets, and if Waylay was weak for one thing it was secrets.

She waited longer still, and when Viper failed to show up, ten minutes after their agreed-upon meeting time, she succumbed to desire. Just a quick peek, nothing more, she told herself. Thirty seconds. Perhaps she would gain some insight into the standoffish chemist? Or perhaps she would get a better sense of what she was looking for during their training sessions?

The first several pages might have feasibly answered that question, as they were full of punctual remarks on how to improve the sessions and records of which agents were struggling with what. But the curious part was the flourish that Viper had committed to her notes; what initially looked like diagrams were clearly sketches, drawn with a caring and committed hand. And as she flipped through the pages, those sketches evolved and grew more complex. And then she saw a face.

Her face .

Well, it was an attempt. The proportions were a little off, the sketch was hasty, but it was clearly her. And with every flipped page, a new one appeared, more complex and accurate than the last. The sketches were made in the margins of ongoing notes and observations, but they were clearly being given more space on the page with each passing training session. More care, more attention.

She was just nearing where the notes ended when she heard the unmistakable clicking of heels, a telltale sign of Viper’s approach and a certain indication she should be doing anything but openly holding the dreaded notebook by the time Viper returned to the room. 

In a panic, instead of doing the sane thing, putting the damn thing back where it just was , she hurriedly stuffed the stolen contraband deep in her bag, sitting back upright just in time for Viper to walk in.

“Why are you inside my office?” Viper asked coldly.

“Uh, our meeting?” Waylay drummed her fingers nervously on her thigh.

“ Inside my office.”

“Your一 your door was unlocked. And you were late, I was getting tired of standing.”

Viper’s eyes glanced to the spot where the notebook had been. Waylay braced herself. Did she know it had been there? Was she suspicious?

The chemist sighed. “Well, please don’t do it again. This is my private space, I prefer it to remain private unless you are here with my permission and my presence.”

Waylay nodded hastily. “Understood. Sorry to intrude, it was thoughtless of me.”

Viper returned the nod. “Well then. Transgression aside, what is it you wanted to meet about?”

Waylay cracked her knuckles nervously.

Viper twitched. “Please don’t do that.”

“Sorry, habit.” Waylay set her unsteady hands back on her lap. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get more involved in the training. You’ve been taking such thorough notes and一” เย็ดเอ้ย, I’m a terrible liar 一 “the ones you take watching practice of course, and it seems like the time you helped in the training was really helpful and I think you’d be a great help!”

Viper looked at her curiously, but did not comment on her demeanor, instead responding to the question.

She sighed. “I don’t think I’ll be as much of a help as you think.”

“Why not? You’ve got a great handle on everything going on, you already seem to spend half your time at the training already, why not take a more active role? Besides, it’d be a shame to see those notes go to waste.” Stop saying that, stop talking about her notes, she’s going to snap.

Viper once again glanced uncertainly at the place her notebook had once been. “Right. I一 uh.” She shook her head as if to reset her train of thought. “I can share the feedback, I do share the feedback, but if I make my presence too known, they all stiffen up. Less mistakes of arrogance, more mistakes of nervousness.”

Waylay nodded. “And does that happen on the battlefield?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It does.”

“Then I say, all the more reason. If seniority gets them in a tizzy in the field might as well start getting them used to it out here. I won’t make you, of course, and it wouldn’t be every training session. I think it’s a good idea, puts that theoretical knowledge of yours to good work. What do you say?”

Viper’s immediate disagreement was evident in a sharp frown. But the frown eased a bit as the gears turned in her head.

“Hmm.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Fine.”

“I suppose I’ll take it, then…”

“You will.”

Waylay glanced around nervously, their discussion ending on a strangely awkward note. “Anything else, then? Or…”

Viper hesitated. “I一 forget it. Let me know what the schedule is.”

“Sounds good! I’ll send it to you, see you then.” Waylay gingerly scooped up her treasonous bag and excused herself from the room, walking patiently until the chemist was far out of earshot before blitzing away towards her room.

~

For most, Cypher’s office was not a space of comfort. The decor offered no such indication of this feeling, with a throw rug and sparse furnishing limiting one’s ability to feel at ease. And for the few whose closeness made them have occasion to be there besides business, they would not be staying for long. Most agents avoided a rendezvous like the plague, his office being a place to venture to only when summoned or in a time of desperate need.

Waylay, now, was in possession of such desperate need, so to Cypher’s office she went.

“I need your help.” She sat slumped forward in her chair leaning against the spymaster’s desk, the Moroccan in contrast leaning back in his seat.

Cypher smiled. “So long as you understand the cost. A favor done, a favor owed.”

Waylay gulped. “Yeah, I— I can do that. And nothing leaves this room?”

Cypher nodded.

“Then, do you happen to have a spare key to Viper’s office? Or her lab?”

He smiled introspectively “An interesting question, indeed. I have a key to both. Though I must ask: whatever for?”

“I— came into possession of something of hers. Something I would rather return before she realizes it’s missing.”

Cypher drummed his fingers. “You know,” he said finally. “There are cameras in her space that she has access to the footage of. It would be a shame to be caught red handed.”

She sighed. “What more do you need from me?”

“What of hers do you have?”

“Will you settle for knowing that fact?”

“Most likely.”

“It’s her notebook. Not the lab one, the personal one she carries around with her.”

Cypher grinned. “A dangerous game you play, girl. Now, which key would you like?”

“The office. I sense she’s in her lab more.”

“A reasonable choice. Be mindful that sound may carry between the two.”

“Yessir.” Waylay gingerly took the key and hurried out the door. The way to Viper’s office, once less-than certain, had now left a permanent imprint on her mind from her fateful venture there only earlier that day. Briskly but not hastily, to avoid suspicion, she made her way through the various halls leading to the laboratory sector. The labyrinthine approach to the research and development bays was mercifully devoid of staff. Neon briefly noticed her and waved, and a handful of maintenance staff passed her confused glances, but she was otherwise unimpeded.

Passing the chemist’s lab on the way to her office, she snuck a quick peek to see her loading a flask onto a circular apparatus with a bath of some sort. Hopefully she’d be busy for the next couple minutes. Without delay, she inserted Cypher’s key into the lock, gingerly opening the door as it emitted the softest creak, barely audible below the periodic hiss of neighboring tanks of liquid nitrogen and the blaring white noise of an efficient HVAC system.

She carefully snuck her way inside, crouching to slide Viper’s personal notebook atop some loose files and research notebooks on the bottom row of a bookshelf. It was, she hoped, a place Viper might have reasonably left the notebook then overlooked it. 

Satisfied with her ruse though admittedly shameful about her guilt, she bit her lip and softly turned to leave, only to hear the soft squeak of the adjoining lab door swinging open. Shit.

She panicked at first, uncertain. Run? Hide? Cause a scene? There were plenty of options, but none of them would exactly avail her. She did not have enough time to hide, and if she ran, Viper would almost certainly see her. It was this indecision that rendered her statuesque as Viper walked into her office, appearing less surprised than she had thought. Almost casually, she flicked a switch on the side of the door jamb and Waylay heard a locking mechanism activate.

Oh, shit.

“You’ve taken quite a liking to my office,” the chemist mused, slowly side-eyeing Waylay, as though she really were a statue under inspection. “Perhaps you want one of your own?”

“Sorry. I was, uh- I had a-”

“Oh, do go on. I’d love to know what brought you here this time.”

Waylay’s mind was racing. She needed to come up with something, anything, and fast. She needed to at least buy herself some time, and prevent this dangerous woman from snapping her in half on a whim. Thinking on her toes was a skill she had learned from years in hostile environments, but never had she been somewhere as dangerous as Viper’s office.

“I was thinking about our conversation…this morning.”

“Yes?”

“How much I appreciated your insight into how your personality impacts the trainees.”

“Go on.”

“And I, well…I was thinking…maybe we ought to talk shop, come up with some ideas about how to get you on the training room floor…without making too much chaos to disrupt the younger agents? Just…yeah, that.”

Was it convincing enough? Viper certainly appeared to be thinking - what was she thinking about, though? Dressed in business casual clothes, with a sharp collar and crimped dress pants, she cut a menacing figure that nevertheless demanded eyes on her. Waylay was having difficulty meeting her lethal stare and holding it.

“You could have sent an email,” Viper said. “In fact, I - I would have preferred that.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve not had much time to think through the matter.”

“That’s fine, I-”

“I would like to. Talk about it. At a later time.”

“Oh. That’s fine too.”

Viper’s reaction was a curious one, her initial frostiness melting to reveal something else. Was there a genuine interest there in arranging a future conversation? Or was she just trying to hurry Waylay out of her office, so she could get back to work? Of course, it was impossible to tell exactly what was on her mind. To attempt to tease that out would be an exercise in futility for just about every member of the Protocol, particularly somebody who had only been here a couple of months. Waylay figured she was out of trouble and made to excuse herself, but Viper did not move an inch. The door remained locked.

“Curious question,” Viper said. “Humor me, if you will?”

“Well, whatever you’d like.” Not like I have much choice, when you’re standing there, do I?

Viper cocked her head, and Waylay thought she saw the hint of a smile form on her lips. How odd. Immediately, she realized something was wrong - she was still in the pot, and the water was getting warmer.

“You came to my office. There is only one direction you can come from. Correct?”

“You’re asking me, as if I-”

“You walked past me in the lab. There are large frosted glass panes on the exterior that allow visitors to see inside the front section. Correct?”

“Are you getting somewhere anytime soon-”

“You also would have noticed that since I was in the lab, the door to my office was locked, since I do not leave my spaces unlocked if I am not there.”

Oh, oh. Shit.

“So, it’s very curious. I might have left my office unlocked…anything is possible, after all-”

“It was unlocked when I got here.” Waylay’s reaction was much too quick. She was confident, but jumped the gun. Immediately, then and there, she knew she had made a mistake. But Viper did not make anything of it except for a slight shrug, a noise buried deep in her throat, and a flip of the switch to unlock the door again. 

“Well, I have work to do. So…be on your way.”

As if to usher her on through, Viper stepped aside as the door slid open. But then she stopped Waylay on her way out, for one final request.

“Let’s talk next week. Tuesday. My office, 1 PM again. We’ll chat about…training.”

“Well, sure. I can do that. It’ll be my pleasure, uh…”

Your pleasure? Really? Waylay was grateful to be able to beat a hasty retreat finally, as her cheeks gave away her embarrassment. She was grateful, at least, that she could finally get out of that office and think about what she had just done.

Meanwhile, Viper watched her go - first from the threshold, then from the doorknob camera, disconnected from the grid of the cameras that had begun malfunctioning 10 minutes ago. And when she saw her notebook piled atop a stack of old data printouts, as though it had been heedlessly tossed aside, she knew exactly what this visit had been about. She smiled, a confident sense of self-satisfaction finally quelling her anger. Though, perhaps she still owed someone a visit.

~

Cypher’s office was a place to go when summoned or in a time of desperate need. At least, that was usually the case. But Viper did not become the CSO of the Kingdom Corporation by being usual .

“Viper.” Cypher gestured to an empty seat.

“I’ll stand.”

“I cannot force you. What brings you to my office?” 

Cypher projected a calm stillness, but the rapid drumming of fingers on his knee suggested he knew something was amiss. Viper smiled menacingly.

“What do you think brings me to your office?”

Cypher tilted his head. “I’m not sure. That’s why I asked you.”

Viper frowned. “Then let me spell it out for you. Thirty minutes ago, I found Waylay in my office. My locked office. Once she had left, I checked the camera feeds to find no evidence of myself or her being there. I might have discarded it as a fluke entirely did I not keep an off-grid camera to record her entering using a key.”

Cypher sighed, defeated. “What do you want, Viper?”

“The camera in the warehouse.”

“It’s been tampered with.”

“I know. Leave it. And disable the one on the training room overlook while you’re at it.”

“For how long?”

“Until I say so.”

Cypher sighed. “You play a dangerous game. But be careful what you wish for.”

“It’s not me you should worry about.” Viper smiled venomously, then spun on her heel and swept out the door.

~

An unusual lull fell upon the Valorant Protocol, in no small part because activity from their omega rivals had practically ceased entirely. Domestic affairs were in hand, training regimens had been planned out for the next quarter in advance, and no unusual emergency had presented itself unexpectedly.

The coming of summer, however, had the most noticeable impact on the agents. 

The shift of the seasons on a tropical island was subtle, but one could endure chilly and foggy days during the winter and a brisk, windy spring before the sun truly came out to play. When it finally did, consistently and with full fervor, responsibilities were shed along with work clothes and more time was spent in the island’s rugged interior or on the beaches than in the training room or in offices. There were fewer and fewer chance encounters in the halls, as agents either went on vacation or spent more time outside, and many of the Protocol’s supplemental employees either took time off or departed for the season. The long concrete gullets ushering one from sector to sector had never been quieter or more lonesome.

Thus there were no distractions for Waylay on Tuesday, just before 1 PM, as she went to Viper’s office for their chat. The intervening days had seen nothing but silence between them, though Viper had returned for two training sessions, bringing her notebook with her each time. She gave no indication one way or another if she realized that Waylay had been snooping.

Could it be possible she knows? Viper was a smart person, but she wasn’t that attentive to her belongings, was she? She probably thought she misplaced it and just had a moment. A brain fart. Yes, that’s it. 

Waylay would not allow herself to get comfortable with that notion until she had this chat, and got it over with. And yet in a weird way, she was looking forward to seeing Viper face-to-face again. The prospect of having a conversation, any conversation, had her oddly giddy as the day’s mandatory training session wrapped up - an easy one, by any metric, as even the most hardened veterans of the Protocol realized they were struggling to hold the attention of the antsy younger agents. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t all run off at once,” Waylay urged, even as she laughed at seeing Phoenix and Gekko make bets as to who could get into their swim trunks faster. “Hey, remember what we talked about today: don’t bunch up, and don’t freeze on each other. Hey!”

She couldn’t help but laugh even as she tried to eke five more minutes out of them. They were all chatting and joking and racing for the exit, tossing their gear into their lockers haphazardly as their minds were elsewhere. Waylay, for her part, figured it could do no harm; they would have more sessions in the future, and some rest and relaxation would do them all good.

There was only one person who disagreed, and she was still standing at the window, now with nobody to observe but Waylay. Feeling intensely scrutinized, Waylay pretended not to notice and beat a hasty exit to grab a bite to eat and prepare herself for this meeting.

Her heart pounded like a drum all the way down to Viper’s office. She passed Neon, Phoenix, and Gekko on the way out; they had practically begged her to come out and join them. Much as she wanted to be ‘the cool coach’, she had work to do and was not about to pass up this opportunity. Their disappointment was palpable, and she was not in the highest of spirits as she knocked on Viper’s office door - for the first time, she noted.

“Come in.”

Viper’s voice was oddly cold and distant, even as it filtered through steel and concrete. Was she having regrets about this arrangement? Was she simply busy? Did she not want to see Waylay in particular? Waylay sucked in a deep breath and girded herself for something unpleasant.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, jokingly, humor which fell flat with Viper. “Guess you’re not a big fan of hitting the beach?”

“No.” Viper’s deadpan could have fried an egg. “Sit.”

Waylay did not dare to suggest an alternative course of action. She sat, gingerly, as though afraid of triggering a tripwire. But Viper was perfectly calm as she sat there, studying Waylay from the other side of her desk, almost pensive.

“I’m sure you’d love to talk about how we can improve my engagement with our trainees.”

“Well一”

“But I’ve got something else on my mind. What were you doing with my notebook?”

The question was plain and simple. Waylay should have had an answer prepared. Instead, she countered with a question.

“Why was your notebook full of drawings of me?”

Viper hummed, neither taken aback nor amused. She was thinking of her next move, as though this were a game of chess between the two of them. All thoughts of strategizing and planning had been cast out.

“Even a busy woman has her hobbies,” Viper said. “Though, privacy is important, I - suppose you’d know that just as well as I?”

“You’re quite a talented artist,” Waylay said, ignoring the implications. “Tell me, how much time do you spend studying my figure instead of studying our novice agents?”

“Would you like to know the real answer to that?”

“I’d like to know what you’re thinking while you stand up there watching me the whole time.”

Only now did Viper laugh. It was a hollow laugh, the type that could grate on nerves. Did she think this was some joke? But on second thought, Waylay realized exactly what she was thinking. She knows she’s been found out. And she knows there’s no denying it. So what comes next?

Viper appeared to have some sort of idea, as without warning she rose from her seat and leaned in over the desk, over Waylay. If this was intended to intimidate, then it was…well, okay, it was working a little bit. It wasn’t hot enough in Viper’s office for her to be sweating like this.

“I’m always wondering,” Viper said, her husky voice sending shivers up Waylay’s spine. “Wondering when you’re going to crack. Wondering when you’re going to have that moment. ”

“What do you mean?”

“Every new agent has that moment, where they think they’re in the wrong place. Kinder people than I call it imposter syndrome. I call it a natural development.”

“So you think I’m gonna break and run, is that it?”

“Prove to me otherwise.”

Waylay wasn’t sure what to make of this sudden assault on her resolve, but one thing was clear in her mind: she was not about to let the chemist see her break. She might bend, she might struggle, she might suffer and even lose sight of the path ahead for a moment, but none of that would be in view of Viper. Now, she felt like she was being challenged, and she stepped up to the plate.

“I don’t know who you are that you think you can underestimate me like this, but you are in for an unpleasant surprise.”

“Oh?”

“I’m no easy mark, if you’re looking for cruel entertainment at my expense. I’m a tough bitch, หัวหน้า. You just watch me.”

“I’d love to.”

Viper was clearly having fun with this, and had sat back down in her seat. Anybody else might have bowed their heads wisely, but Viper was game for whatever attitude she was bringing. And Waylay was ready to bring it.

“Next Monday. Training scheduled at 2 PM. I’ll come down to the floor after you’re done,” Viper said. “We’ll talk more then.”

“That’s it? Are you going to kick me out of your office?”

“That depends on whether or not I have to.”

“You’re a cold woman, Viper. Have you ever wondered if there’s more to life than icing everybody out of your life?”

“No.”

Thoroughly iced out, Waylay made to leave. But Viper caught her one last time as she was at the threshold, enjoying how quickly Waylay jumped and turned back to her attention. Waylay, for her part, wished she had not turned obediently like a called dog. It irked her how easily Viper could get her attention on a whim.

“What did you think of them?”

“What did I think of what?”

“The drawings,” Viper said, inching her fingertip along the spine of the notebook as it sat before her. “You said they were…you said I was talented.”

“I did say that.”

“What else did you think of them?”

Was this Viper fishing for compliments because she wanted to feel good? Or did she genuinely feel insecure about her work, and wanted some kind of validation? Waylay was torn, but ultimately caved to her base instinct to boost somebody else rather than tear them down. And she was right about one thing, at least: Viper was talented.

“I like them, for what it’s worth,” she said, pretending that the admission was more strained than it actually was. “You’ve got a good eye for details.”

“Captured your likeness well, did I?”

“But you can always improve. Maybe you need to spend more time watching me and hone your work, หัวหน้า?”

Viper’s smolder could have burned through steel like an ion torch. “Maybe I do,” she said. “And maybe I will. Now, you’re dismissed. Please leave my office.”

It was a cold exit, but Waylay was satisfied. She suspected, and not without good reason, that their talk next Monday was going to be something extraordinary. She had to mentally prepare herself for it if she was going to survive the challenge.

~

It was torment, pure torment.

And Viper was enjoying every second of it.

The waiting was half the battle. Waylay attempted to find ways to force their paths to cross, but Viper proved elusive; she either hid in her lab from dawn to dusk, eking out long hours and skipping entire meals, or she scheduled her day in such a way that Waylay could not hope to see her. Waylay knew the distance was by design, too.

If the weather were worse, she might have been able to bear the indignity without too much agony, but every hot and sunny day that dawned beckoned her. The younger agents struggled to do even their basic tasks, skipping out on chores and putting paperwork off in favor of fun in the sun. They begged her to join them, stopping just short of dragging her out to the volleyball net with them, but she refused without saying why. Even the older agents were spending time outside grilling, reading under the shade, or taking long walks into the island’s interior. She turned down these invites, too, for the most part.

And how could they know? How could any of them understand? How could she even let them know what sort of game was afoot, when she didn’t fully understand it herself? All she knew was that Tuesday could not come soon enough, and for reasons not entirely clear to her she was becoming disgustingly desperate for so much as a brush of the shoulders with Viper, who would not give her what she wanted.

Then Monday came, and with it came a mandatory training session to test the latest prototype weapon, courtesy of Killjoy. Mercifully, Brimstone had scheduled it later in the day, allowing the agents most of the day to themselves before they had to pack up and drag their sunburned behinds back inside for practice. Waylay was there waiting for them, and she was not alone.

She was up there when you got here. She was waiting. 

Viper stood at attention, as though she were saluting the flag, her hands clasped behind her back and her head tilted slightly as she watched the younger agents, training gear equipped and weapons in hand, sally forth for their first go-round. Her eyes then found Waylay, and stayed there, and it took all of her willpower to focus on the immediate task at hand instead of trading nervous glances with the stalking chemist.

Enjoying yourself up there, creep? I bet you’re too afraid to come down and talk to me.

And for the duration of the event, it seemed Viper was not inclined to do so. Waylay and Sage worked to give fair feedback to the agents, helped them chart a course for improving their strategies, told them they would repeat the test next week, and then dismissed them for the evening. When Sage left with a pleasant farewell, waving on her way out, Waylay chanced one last look up at the observation box. It was empty.

She nearly ran into Viper on her way through the locker room, which was now mercifully empty. She attempted to play it off coolly, but she was far too nervous for that. If Viper could tell, she gave no signs. She stood mere feet from Waylay, straight-backed and laser-eyed, her expression far too grave for the moment, suggesting there was something on her mind.

“Got an itch I need to scratch?” Waylay asked. “Or are you just gonna block the door all night-”

“You should be tougher on them. You go too easy. You let them make mistakes.”

Waylay handwaved the comment. “It’s training,” she argued. “They’re allowed to make mistakes.”

“Nobody is allowed to make errors that would get them or their comrades killed in the heat of battle.”

“This is where they learn how not to do that. Or would you like every session to be agonizing punishment for them? I wonder if you get off to that-”

Viper’s upper lip curled back slightly, baring fangs as though she were about to strike. It was the angriest she had ever appeared, and yet the moment was fleeting. Her lips then curled into the faintest of smiles, and a glow in her eyes suggested that Waylay had ratcheted up the tempo of their little game to a dangerous level. She stepped forward, closing the distance slightly.

“What would ever make you think that?”

“It was just a joke, I didn’t mean to…uh, well-”

“Go on.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Viper hummed, thoughtful. “Say less,” she said, “and do what I tell you to. Look me in the eye.”

Waylay had been averting her gaze subtly, finding objects in the background to look at instead. Now, she had no choice but to stare Viper down and hope she survived the encounter. It was taxing, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she stood her ground and stared. Fresh lines of sweat grew on her temples and pooled on her forehead as she endured.

“Stay there, and get on your knees.”

Shit. Waylay should not have made eye contact. She should not have even followed suit with the other woman’s instructions; who was she, anyway? Viper was barely a year older than her, and while she nominally held a position of power within the Protocol, she had never used it to her advantage. Even now, no appeals to authority had been made.

“Please.”

Like a rubber band pulled too taut, her resistance snapped. She practically fell to the tiled floor, bruising her knees and causing her to wince as she hit the ground harder than intended. She played it off by snapping straight back up as quickly as she could, recovering to meet her challenger.

“Look up at me, now. Look me in the eye.”

Waylay hesitated, but conceded. Her ribs might as well have been glowing, for all the heat pulsating in her chest, her heart an overclocked engine. When she made eye contact with Viper again, it took all of her concentration to avoid blinking. Viper was looking down on her as though she were a mere creature.

“Do not avert your eyes from me until I tell you to.”

She was confident, serene, narrow-eyed and thin-lipped, entirely within her element. She tilted her head slightly, as though studying Waylay the way she would study a sample beneath a microscope, or perhaps a flaw in an incomplete sketch. She should not have been able to achieve such results with so few words, and yet here they were – Viper towering above her, Waylay on her knees, waiting for the next order.

“You follow directions well. I appreciate that.”

I ought to cut your tongue out for saying that. But Waylay said nothing for herself, as her tongue was otherwise quickly occupied with the coarse studded leather of Viper’s glove. As though possessed of a mind of its own, it wandered curiously over the firm, grip-lined pads of her thumb and sought the crease between thumb and index finger, as though silently begging for more. Viper noticed, and offered something that might have been approaching another faint smile. It was difficult to tell with her.

“The enthusiasm is noted. Maybe next time, I’ll take my glove off and let you have a taste. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

Waylay’s silence spoke volumes.

Before she realized what was happening, Viper yanked her back to her feet, and then was out the door - without her.

Without me. Wait, what just happened?

Her head was left spinning, her heart pounding, and her knees were like gelatin beneath taxed muscles. What had they just done, and what did it mean for their little game? And why did she have the sudden desire to chase after Viper, get back on her knees, and plead for more? None of these questions had answers, and none of Waylay’s desires were satisfied, and so she was the last one to stalk out of the training center that night, frustrated and confused and more than a little bit aroused.

~

The scene replayed itself in Waylay’s head every few minutes, repeating all day unless she had something immediately in front of her to distract herself with. Even when she did, it only offered a temporary reprieve. If left to her own devices, it would not be long before she heard Viper’s cool, confident voice in her head again, ringing in her ears like an endless echo.

Maybe next time, I’ll take my glove off and let you have a taste.

How shamelessly she desired to know that taste and texture and worship Viper’s bare skin, even for only a second - where had this yearning come from, and why had it grown so passionate all of a sudden? She could ask that same question of Viper, whose cold detachment had turned inside-out and revealed something surprisingly sensual, if not quite passionate. Maybe in the depths of her wildest dreams she could imagine something like that happening, but to be a part of it in reality was entirely unexpected. She was also taken aback at how casual the whole thing had been.

Sixty seconds. She had been kneeling before Viper for no more than a minute, and it was over after that. She was desperate for much more.

“Hey, coach! Volleyball?”

Her next distraction had thankfully arrived. Phoenix and Gekko, who had spent far too much time trying to get Yoru to teach them how to bodysurf, had now given up on the effort and were congealing along with some of the other agents to the beachside volleyball net. 

“You should know me well enough by now,” she said, with a bright grin. “Of course I’m game!”

“Hey, you’d better bring your A-game if you are. Neon and Jett are joining.”

“Whose side would you rather I be on?”

“Not theirs, if you’re asking…”

Waylay made a dramatic scene of having to play with the boys, but she was secretly just happy for the distraction, no matter which team she was playing on. 

“Aw, come on!”

“You’re joining the boys’ team!?”

“We’re gonna pound you into the sand!”

Neon and Jett were joined by a somewhat reluctant Sage, who was not quite sure of her feet in the sand but nevertheless made a noble effort to play alongside the much faster and more experienced younger agents. The moment the game started, she made quite a fool of herself to the great amusement of Neon and Jett; if Waylay were of a clearer head, she might have found it cute to see Sage keep a goofy smile on her face while struggling so. But Waylay’s thoughts wandered elsewhere, and it wasn’t long before she found herself drawn back inside - unwillingly, as she should not have wanted to be anywhere else while soaking up rays.

When her team suffered a resounding defeat at the hands of their jubilant opponents and the slightly frazzled but happy Sage, she found a reason to excuse herself from the beach. Under any other circumstance, she would be out here all day, joining the younger agents in all of their frivolities. But she snuck off, abandoning them for her personal quest.

Dressing as quickly as humanly possible, her clothes ruffled and sand still in her hair, she beelined for Viper’s section of the base. She knew that this might be a wasted effort; she was willing to try nevertheless. And when she got to the lab entrance and saw the lights on and machinery in action, she foolishly got her hopes up.

But of course, the door was locked. Viper was in there somewhere, buried in her tasks, unlikely to emerge anytime soon. Waylay stood there at the bay windows, looking in like a lost puppy, not quite sure how she should be feeling. She settled on disappointment, but all the same lingered there for far too long, vainly hoping that Viper would appear, see her at the window, and let her in.

That never happened, of course. After what must have been half an hour of yearning silently at the threshold, Waylay turned back and went the way she came. She knew then and there that this game between them would go on much longer than she expected, and she would have to gird herself for a protracted impasse.

~

Waylay believed at first that she was above making the next move in this game. She considered herself too busy, and too self-respecting, to stoop to such a level. So what if she was desperate to experience those same feelings again, and repeat the unexpectedly sensual encounter in the training facility? So what if she was going out of her way just to steal a glance at Viper in the hallway or during mealtimes? And so what if she had touched herself to the memory of Viper’s cold, gloved thumb in her mouth, studs and all, at least four times since?

She was not going to make the first move. If Viper wanted this just as badly as she did, then she would have to be the one to seek her out. And it burned Waylay up from the inside out to force herself to be patient, but it would not take long for her to realize Viper was going through it far worse than she.

For almost two weeks, they barely spoke a word to each other, but their encounters multiplied. It was not just in the training facility, either; whether working out in the early mornings or taking walks in the late afternoon, Waylay increasingly found that Viper was not far behind. They brushed shoulders, offered polite hellos , and stole an unprecedented amount of glances at each other, but no conversation emerged. Once, when she was particularly desperate to know what was going on behind those piercing green eyes, Waylay almost approached her after lunch to boldly strike up a conversation and see where she could drag Viper off to. But the snake proved to be elusive, and gamely dodged her attempts at cornering her on their way out of the cafeteria. 

For almost two weeks, nothing happened. Waylay began to wonder if this affair was one-sided, and she had been misreading the signs. But at a crucial moment when her hope began to wane, Viper turned her attention back to her. 

An email? Really? Coward.

But it was an invitation nevertheless, ostensibly for work purposes and to discuss the next phase of Waylay’s employment and any performance improvement that had been deemed necessary. Viper extended the hospitality of her office this time, with a sardonic note: feel free to let yourself in.

Waylay did just that, and earlier than expected, too. She expected to see Viper quite chagrined, but the woman simply raised her eyebrows at her visitor, as though attempting to divine her feelings by scrutinizing her every move. Waylay had come prepared for this, however. 

“I imagine you’re not here to talk about my time with the Protocol,” she said, clapping her hands to her knees as she sat. “So, let’s get level.”

“Come. Walk with me,” Viper said, to her immediate surprise.

“What? Walk? You just invited me to-”

“Yes, so that I could see you. Now I want to talk to you. Is that…a problem?”

Viper knew exactly what she was doing, and Waylay was already being tugged along as if on an invisible leash. Rolling her eyes dramatically, but offering no further protest, she followed Viper out the door and down the corridor past her lab. Waylay had never been in this particular direction, and admittedly did not know where it led, leaving her more than a little bit suspicious of Viper’s intentions.

“I figured it would be good for us to talk,” Viper said. “But, well…not about your time with the Protocol, no. There’s other things that have been on my mind, and yours too I’m sure.”

Was she… nervous? There was a lilt to her voice that Waylay had not often heard, and God did Viper walk fast. All signs pointed to her being anxious as hell, but for what reason? Waylay did her best to keep up.

“If I ask you questions, are you going to answer them?”

“That…depends on the question.”

“Not reassuring.”

“Would you prefer I lie to you?”

No. Waylay’s silence sufficed for an answer.

Before long they reached a place that could only be described as some enormous warehouse, with narrow slit windows at the top where the imposing brick walls met the roof, bare support beams and all. Waylay had never seen such a place before, and she could imagine why; who would voluntarily come here, especially on a day like today, to languish in the stuffy heat and hazy light among pallets of cardboard boxes and industrial-scale shelving? There was only one person she could imagine finding some degree of comfort here, and that person was standing next to her, taking it all in.

“What is this place?”

Viper shifted awkwardly, hands seeking her pockets. “It’s a warehouse,” she said, then grumbled, realizing that was obvious. “Dry goods storage, but for reserve inventory. In other words, not a whole lot of activity around here.”

“I can see that,” Waylay said dryly. “Why here?”

“The aforementioned lack of activity,” Viper said, kicking her heel against the concrete floor. It echoed up and down the length of the hall to prove her point. “Makes for a good place to think, or have a private conversation.”

“Is that what this is then? A private conversation?”

Viper turned to her and cocked her head, a subtle warning that Waylay failed to heed before hands were on her shoulders and her back was against the wall. The impact was softened by her own innate resistance, but she was still taken by surprise when she was pushed against the wall and pinned there, Viper’s stony eyes on hers. She could have fought and squirmed free, but she wanted nothing more than this right now - and it took her two weeks to admit it to herself.

“Hungry, were you?” Waylay teased, enjoying the sharpness of Viper’s gaze. “Look at how quickly you move when you’re starved…”

“Shut up. I want to look at you.”

“I don’t have to be quiet for that.”

Viper hummed something, her reaction inscrutable, her eyes poring over every crevice and curve of Waylay’s face. It could have been terrifying, given different circumstances, but Waylay felt nothing but pure thrill and satisfaction, like hot oil in her blood racing from head to toe and powering up the howling engine in her chest, fanning the embers into a roaring fire. She did not dare to move a single muscle under Viper’s scrutiny until she was sure that the snake was not about to sink fangs into bare flesh. She hardly dared to blink.

“You’re not afraid,” Viper noted. “Most other people would be.”

“You’d have to give me reason to in order to make me afraid.”

“Are you sure you want this?”

“Whatever it is.”

“That’s a dangerous answer.”

“Maybe you should stop asking questions, then, and do what you want. I can see the hunger in your eyes. I’m tired of waiting, too.”

Waylay inched closer, pressing her body up against Viper’s, even as she was pinned back against the wall. Viper reciprocated by leaning in, pushing her upper body forward at first to keep her shoulders locked into place and then nudging her head into the crook of Waylay’s shoulder, her lips just inches from her ears.

“Breathe a word of this to anybody, at all,” Viper whispered, her voice sharpened steel against exposed neck, “and I will make the remainder of your time with us the most miserable affair I possibly can, in every way shape and form that I can.”

“Not a word,” Waylay breathed, her chest heaving with every exhale.

Viper did not recoil, but hummed again, pleased. “Good, I’d hate for things to get messy. Now, stay there, and do not move an inch until I tell you to.”

Waylay held still as the chemist carefully extracted herself, retreating from the open space into a series of cluttered shelves. She slightly reset her balance and allowed her eyes to wander towards Viper’s occluded form, startled suddenly by the clatter of something hefty being lifted out of some hidden corner of the warehouse.

Waylay’s gaze followed the woman’s form as she returned to reveal a large wooden stand, an easel , her brain supplied. Viper carefully set it up facing her, placing a sheet of paper clipped to a wooden board upon it. Seemingly satisfied, she moved around it to approach Waylay once more.

“Stand up straight.”

Waylay shifted awkwardly, pulling her already-strong posture into the desired position. Viper moved closer, using her hands to pull her hips slightly forward and roll her shoulders further backwards. Her touch was cold, but each point of contact burned, the duelist’s darkened cheeks obscuring the flushed red of the blood rushing to them.

“Right foot forward.”

Waylay stepped forward.

“Too far. Just slightly ahead.”

Viper leaned down to shift Waylay’s leg to the desired spot, causing her to sway unsteadily as she attempted to regain her balance. As Viper adjusted her, she felt the woman’s hot breath up her leg, making her inadvertently shiver in anticipation. Viper stood up.

“Fix your posture again. Right shoulder almost square, just slightly ahead.”

Waylay dutifully reset her shoulders.

“Too far.”

Viper reached up to push her shoulders in near alignment, putting a slight stretch on her hip. Again, the touch was electric, a sensation Waylay masked as best she could. She could bear this through. She hoped.

“Chin up.”

Waylay raised her head, her eyes level with Viper’s neckline.

“Farther.”

Viper reached forward, holding Waylay’s chin between her thumb and forefinger to steadily lift her head. She leaned forward, her hot breath soft against the duelist’s exposed neck, carefully circling her body before stepping back, face to face.

“Good. Hold.”

She pulled out a wooden stool and sat at the easel, her practiced eye taking in Waylay’s form as she brandished a sharpened pencil and began drawing some unseen trace along the page. The room was silent save for the scribbling on canvas, Viper’s brow furrowed in concentration.

Waylay bit her tongue. Surely this can’t be it. Surely she hasn’t dragged me here to make me stand still for however long. I can’t just be doing as she asks solely for a portrait, have I lost my mind?

Minutes passed. Viper continued to silently work as Waylay struggled to remain steady and stock-still. Endurance training had prepared her to run for extended periods and stay active without breaks, but the particular position was working muscles she hadn’t even known existed, creating awkward cramps as parts of her taught form slowly slackened.

Minutes bled together, Waylay losing the ability to count what time had passed. Her eyes traced the ground, watching the sunlit patches of the floor slowly move as the sun traced its arc across the sky, shining through holes in the woodwork. It was only brief, though, a distraction from the agony in her form and the unquenched heat still pulsing through her body.

Eventually, her fatigue won out, forcing her to awkwardly shift her stance to remain upright.

Viper frowned. “I said hold. Not stumble.”

“Surely you don’t expect me to一”

“I do. Back into position.” 

Viper stood up from her easel, resetting Waylay’s stance, though with some noticeable leeway given to the positioning of her knees, which she had straightened to allow a steadier stance.

Waylay groaned as Viper adjusted her body. “Viper, please.”

Viper frowned. “If I recall, you said you wanted this, quote ‘whatever it is.’”

Waylay grit her teeth in frustration.”I wanted you! If your gaze was enough I’d be content to watch you scribble my form in your notebook as I worked.”

Viper nodded, the hint of a self-satisfied smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth. “You can have what you want. If you can continue to hold the pose for another fifteen minutes.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Deadly.”

Viper pulled close, resetting the form that had slackened in the minute of their conversation. Satisfied, she stepped back.

“Now, hold .”

Waylay swallowed as Viper returned to the easel, carefully tracing and shading while occasionally standing up to sharpen what appeared to be one of several shades of pencil she was drawing with. The room remained nearly silent, every crank of the sharpener, every sweeping stroke of the pencil rang out in the dusty silence of the still warehouse. The only movement was Waylay’s slight quivering and Viper’s deft hand, unsteady at rest, but smooth and fluid in motion. 

Viper noticed her unsteadiness and checked her watch. “Three more minutes.”

Waylay grit her teeth, shuddering as a breeze slipped by her braced form, doing little to quell the heat of desire smoldering within her still body. Her stomach curled as Viper’s eyes continued to graze over her form, betraying nothing but simple, steady concentration.

Finally, blissfully, she stood up and walked up to her. “At ease.”

Waylay gasped and collapsed against the wall once more, teasing her stiff joints and rubbing her legs together. She looked up at Viper pleadingly.

“Hm.” Viper surveyed her as one might survey a skeptical container of leftovers left in the fridge. “I think you’re done for today.”

Waylay looked at her in desperation. “Please, Viper, you can’t be serious.”

Viper shrugged. “You weren’t ready. That’s okay. You’ll have other opportunities, I’m sure.” She moved towards the easel.

Waylay caught her wrist, frustration budding into anger. “Viper, you promised. I’m sure you’ve gotten something out of whatever the hell this was, but if that’s all you’re going to give me, I’m going to stop indulging this. So make your call.”

Viper rolled her eyes in defeat, though a smirk at the corner of her mouth betrayed a hint that everything had been going exactly as planned. “Fine. I’ll prove myself right.”

With the arm still held by Waylay, she caught the duelist’s wrist, yanking her close to immediately catch her chin with the other hand. Without dropping a beat, she leaned forward to catch Waylay’s parted lips with her own, pressing their mouths together in a swift motion that ignited the embers burning in the radiant’s stomach. Instinctively, she reached up to grab the back of Viper’s head to hold them together. The chemist’s tongue entered her mouth, pressing her own flat against her lower jaw much like her finger had done some days prior, sliding around her gums like a brush applying a coat of paint. Viper freed her hand, gently removing the top half of Waylay’s jacket jumpsuit, pushing her hands back away in the process.

Waylay moaned into the kiss, pressing her exposed shirt and bared arms against the chemist’s tight turtleneck as Viper slowly walked them across the room until Waylay’s back was against the wall. Breaking the kiss, Viper immediately leaned down to plant a firm, lipstick-laden peck on her neck before drifting lower towards her collarbone, grabbing a section of skin with her mouth and sucking a painful hickey directly into it. 

Waylay whimpered and slouched against the wall, Viper kneeling forward to keep her mouth affixed, catching her hands at the hem of the duelist’s shirt. She released her mouth and took a short breath.

“Up.”

Waylay raised her arms without complaint, leaving Viper to deftly remove her shirt. Viper slyly caught her sports bra in the same motion, freeing Waylay’s chest and leaving her top half bare save for her glowing gemstone necklace, swaying gently from being disturbed by the removed clothing. The chill of the concrete wall on her back stung, though it paled in comparison to the heat flooding from her body. Viper wasted little time, leaving a second hickey below the first as her hand began to toy with Waylay’s left breast, squeezing and massaging its whole before gently sliding a finger by her nipple, eliciting a fully-body shudder as Waylay gasped in pleasure. 

Viper slid her hands down her hips, her mouth placing kisses on the untouched breast, lipstick marks tracing its outline as Waylay gazed in awe at the woman now kneeling in front of her body. Her arousal, once an ember, was now blazing hot and coiled like a spring, ready to erupt as she felt Viper drift lower—

—and pull away.

“Still.”

Waylay’s chest heaved, watching Viper step away back towards the easel, rolling up the first sheet and replacing it with a blank one. 

“Viper…”

Viper shook her head disapprovingly. “I told you you weren’t ready.”

To her credit, Waylay remained still, and to Viper’s credit, she seemed to be working more hastily than the first time, making quick pencil strokes and rapid scratches that showed at least a shred of urgency.

“Viper, please.”

Viper frowned, then sighed. “A small mercy can be allowed, I suppose.”

She stood up, walking over to Waylay’s hunched form. She carefully slackened the duelist's belt and loosened the zipper further. As Waylay’s chest seized in anticipation, Viper carefully lifted one of Waylay’s limp arms and slipped it between the duelist’s legs.

She stood, nodding to herself. “Keep yourself busy. Not too fast, I intend to finish this.”

Waylay’s eyes widened as the chemist’s meaning. “You mean…”

Viper sat back at her stool. “Go on, then.”

Waylay nervously wiggled her wrist, feeling the wetness now pressed against her own hand. She had never felt more naked, more exposed, the option presented to her feeling almost worse than the one she had started with. She watched Viper, focused on her portrait, glancing across regularly and nodding to herself. It was utterly embarrassing, being trapped in a situation like this, but the burning heat between her legs would not be denied.

Slowly at first, then with increasing pace, she began pushing her fingers into herself, making a vulgar wet sound with each thrust, bucking her hips against her hand as she moaned and gasped. Her cheeks burned red with shame but the fire inside her burned hotter as she kept going faster, desperately—

Viper caught her wrist. She hadn’t even seen her approach. “I said slowly ,” she hissed.

Waylay gulped and nodded, Viper returning to her position as the duelist returned to a languid pace, one that kept her agonizingly needy but unable to satisfy herself. Viper continued, her brow furrowed, mirroring Waylay’s concentrated expression of denying her own release. Seconds were agony, minutes bleeding by as Viper traced and shaded Waylay’s tortured form, smiling to herself before finally rolling up her work and placing it beside the first.

She stood. “You can finish.”

Waylay hesitated. This is what she wanted, right? But it felt disappointing, like a pithy epilogue after a thrilling movie. She looked up. She knew what she wanted.

“Could you?”

Viper raised an eyebrow. “Could I, what?”

Waylay’s cheeks burned once more. “...help?”

“Hm.” Viper frowned in mock contemplation, tracing her hand against the arm still buried between Waylay’s legs. “No.”

“Viper, please.”

Viper shrugged dismissively, stepping back and folding up the easel. “Finish or don’t.”

Waylay grit her teeth in frustration, but whatever desire she held to maintain a scrap of dignity had already lost to the throbbing need between her legs. She resumed her pace before accelerating rapidly, thrusting and curling, doubling over her own arm as she gasped in pleasure. Her peak, already once denied, arrived in no time flat, crashing over her in full-body convulsions and moans. Viper paused her cleanup, turning to watch the duelist fuck herself through the height of her orgasm, her body slumped pathetically against the wall.

As Waylay slowly wound down, Viper returned the easel and approached her, holding the two rolled-up portraits. “I’m impressed.”

Waylay looked at her deliriously. “Fuck you.”

Viper smiled knowingly. “Perhaps some other time. For now, choose your reward.” She hefted the offending objects, documentation of what had just transpired.

Waylay had no earthly idea which was which. She sighed in defeat. “The left one,” she chose randomly.

“An interesting choice. Here, so you don’t soil it.” Viper handed her a towel.

“So I can look even more like a fool walking back to my room, I presume.”

“I would be disappointed if you damaged such a gift.”

Waylay sighed. “Fine.”

She wiped her hands clean and donned her rather dusty shirt, slipping her arms back into the jumpsuit and zipping it high enough to hide a rather noticeable mark on her collarbone. Casting a final glance back in Viper’s direction, she hustled out of the warehouse towards her bedroom, uncomfortably shooing off the few agents asking about the sizable roll of paper she was carrying through the halls. As she finally arrived, she brandished it, finally staring at her chosen portrait in all its glory.

It was the first, she realized, letting out a sigh of relief. Viper had done an excellent job, accentuating her jaw and clothing in a professional manner that made it look like a rendition of a formal photo. Explaining where she got it would be difficult, but someone who caught a glance would have no inkling of its source. Her rational fears were sated, but a small hint in the back of her mind wished for its counterpart, to see herself in her full glory, depicted by the chemist’s sharpened emerald eyes and cool, deft hands. She swallowed that piece down, rolling the portrait up once more and stashing it in her closet.

~

The next days passed in a flash, and before Waylay knew it, Monday had arrived once more. The soreness and bruising from Viper’s trial faded over time, but the residual aching need did not. Waylay’s body, ever non-compliant, demanded the satisfaction she had been so coldly denied the first time, come what may. But even beyond her intimate desires, she had also begun to wonder if the feeling she was chasing with Viper was more than just sexual satisfaction, more than just her cold hands and her tender lips. The chemist was attractive, obviously, but her appearance alone had not been what interested Waylay, and a prickling sensation in her gut told her there was more to it than raw desire.

Quelling her thoughts, Waylay set off for the day, first to her usual breakfast, then to some training of her own, then lunch, and finally back to her home turf.

She clapped her hands. “Alright everyone, listen up! We’ve done a mock run of offense and learned a good bit, it’s now time to try defense. This will require reactive coordination, so you will be expected to communicate with your teammates. The positions and strategies Viper gave you should be your plans, but don’t follow a plan just because it’s your plan, you should make sure you have what you need to make it work. Now, let’s get set up.”

She glanced away from the agents scrambling into position up towards Viper, perched in the upper balcony. The chemist’s eyes were fixed directly on her, devouring her form with an intensity that almost made Waylay keel over on the spot. She hurriedly averted her gaze, turning her attention to setting simulations for various attack plans for the agents to defend against. 

As the simulation began, Waylay leapt from her station, using her radiance to boost herself upwards to the catwalk that lined the observation booth and admitting herself without so much as a knock. If Viper minded, she said nothing one way or another when Waylay invited herself in.

“How’s the view?”

Viper frowned. “Tarnished by the movement of a key set piece, but acceptable.”

“You know, if you wanted to order me back, you could just-”

“It’s fine. It’s acceptable. That’s all.”

Her cold disposition did little to mask the heat that rose off her skin, and Waylay could sense her pulse rapidly increasing as she closed the distance between the two of them. Though she did not look the part, right now she was a woman on the verge of making a risky decision in public view.

“I will admit one thing,” Viper said, not peeling her eyes away from Waylay as she moved. “You do have a knack for making them listen to you. You hardly have to raise your voice.”

“Raising one’s voice is hardly necessary so long as you use the right words.”

“Do you even know our junior agents?”

“Well enough to know they’re not children, and can be reasoned with.”

Viper harrumphed, in obvious disagreement, but terminated the conversation there as the defensive course erupted to life on the training room floor below. From behind the glass divider, they could see it all: the initial chaos, the plans coming to life as the agents adapted to the opposing strategies, but still falling for strategic tricks and traps that Waylay and Viper had plotted to make their initial plans fall apart. Their errors compounded, and upon their sixth successive round loss Waylay called a pause.

“Well, have to start somewhere,” Waylay said, embarrassed, as she watched Phoenix swing into a set of three training bots and get eliminated immediately. “We’ll run it again.”

“You had better,” Viper snorted, unimpressed. “That was pathetic. Did they even read their training briefs? It looks like they had no idea what they were walking into.”

Waylay said nothing, but found that likely. Her emails and reminders over the weekend had almost certainly gone unread or ignored, and now they were paying the price. She felt embarrassed, but nevertheless strolled out of the observation room with as much confidence as she could muster to offer a pep talk, tips, and pray to a collection of gods she wasn’t sure she believed in that her agents would be able to pull through and not humiliate her in front of her not-quite-friend-with-benefits.

To their credit, the trainees realized they had made some serious errors. The pep talk was mercifully brief, with Waylay hitting on key points and each of the agents assessing their own performances with decent accuracy. They knew what they had to improve upon, and they knew they had to play the rounds slower and communicate more, and when they had finally caught their breath they reset to their positions and the exercise began anew. Waylay, naturally, returned to her spot in the observation booth. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t lock the door behind me,” she teased playfully, noticing Viper’s returning scowl.

“Thought about it,” the chemist said, dismissively.

“Their second go-round will be an improvement. Just you watch.”

“I’m watching.”

Waylay grit her teeth and spent a solid five minutes in extremely uncomfortable silence with Viper, who watched her agents’ every move. If they botched this second set of rounds, or even won a majority with serious mistakes, Waylay would be incredibly embarrassed on their behalf. But luckily, her intercession paid dividends and while they still dropped several rounds from some flawed decisions, they rallied successfully and secured a fair advantage by the end. It was far from perfect, but it was a substantial improvement.

“They’re still sloppy,” Viper said. “But they’re doing better.”

“I told you they would improve.”

“Mmmhm. You sure did.”

“Third time’s the charm, right?”

“Have them go again. I want to see them repeat it until I’m satisfied.”

Waylay was not sure how long that would be, but she knew now that they had the confidence to repeat the drill and improve upon more than just the fundamentals. She did not need to give them another pep talk; they had already reassembled at their positions, ready for the next set of combat rounds. From the control booth, she gave the signal, and flipped the light to green.

That was when Viper made her move and grabbed her by the hips. 

“Oh, Viper, what are you-”

“Relax. They can’t see us from down there.”

Despite her confident words, Viper pulled her back and out of view as the third run of the course began. Waylay tried to pull away, but Viper was insistent. 

“You don’t get to barge in here and just up and leave whenever you’d like,” she said, her lips dangerously close to Waylay’s earlobe. “You have to abide by the rules when I’m around.”

“What rules? For a woman of rules, you sure do like to- ohhhh.”

Waylay lost the rest of her sentence when Viper’s hand traveled effortlessly up her ribs, like a stone skipping over glassy water, to smoothly land on her breast and squeeze gently, firmly. Waylay hummed and leaned back into the touch, couching her body against Viper’s shoulder and craning her neck so she could look Viper in the eye. The chemist’s cold demeanor had not thawed but there was an undeniable spark in her eyes that, given enough fuel, could light a blazing fire. Waylay decided to provide that fuel.

“You must have missed this,” she said, letting Viper pin her arms against her body. “Are you going to draw me again, or are you actually going to do something real?”

“Hush. You enjoyed that.”

“You left me to clean up my own mess.”

“As you deserved.”

“Rude of you to say that-”

“Do you want this, or not?”

What was this, anyway, and where was it going? It was impossible to tell exactly what Viper wanted, and Waylay knew from prior experience that she would have no hope trying to guess. So she opted for a brave but risky strategy, and lunged for the prize with a few choice words. 

“What is it you want to do?”

That could have been dangerous, if Viper were intent on dancing around the topic. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, as though wondering if Waylay deserved to know her next move. After all, she seemed to take pleasure in keeping her on her toes - but there was also joy to be found in spoiling your partner and letting them indulge in a little secret.

“You did so well the other day, though I forced you to be so patient,” Viper crooned, curling her fingers beneath Waylay’s chin and tipping her head back at a gentle angle, finally putting her lips up against her earlobe and making her shiver. “I suppose you deserve to know what I want from you, and what you’re going to do.”

“I would like that.”

“How much?”

“Well, let me show you.”

Waylay took control momentarily, now grabbing hold of Viper’s hands and moving them back down - but slipping them in under her shirt and then from here between the hem of her pants, tightened by her belt but still navigable. She wasted no time in showing Viper what she really wanted, and led her hand down below the cradle of her hips to place it between her legs. Viper hissed and recoiled slightly at the heat of Waylay’s cunt, but adjusted quickly and found a comfortable position there, the tips of her fingers brushing against Waylay’s lips in such a way as to make her almost melt on the spot. She pressed herself more firmly against Viper’s body and turned her head so she could pepper her exposed neck with kisses, nipping at her bare flesh on the last few.

“It must have been like this every night for you, hmm?”

Waylay wished she could answer, but Viper’s ministrations were robbing her of language and reducing her to guttural gasps and soft sighs that floated over the chemist’s soft neck and lingered in her ears, making her hum with satisfaction.

“You’ve been thinking about me, reminiscing. It feels so much longer ago than it really is, doesn’t it?”

It did feel like another life: a life before she had exposed herself to Viper, a life before she had kissed and touched and played with her, a life before she stood there weak-kneed and desperate while her every detail was captured on canvas. 

“And now here you stand, on the cusp of ecstasy again. Perhaps I ought to let you wait a little-”

“No. Please.”

Both words came out as gasps, panicked and fierce. “Please don’t.” She pressed her hips back against Viper’s and shifted them up and down, back and forth, trying to elicit a more primal reaction from the otherwise stalwart woman. “I’ve been wanting you.”

“We can’t all get what we want.”

“You hung me out to dry. You had your fun. Isn’t it my turn?”

Viper smiled, and intensified her ministrations, making sure to brush her thumb against the inside of Waylay’s thigh to keep her hips moving.

“Please. Viper.”

“Please what?”

“Give me something. Anything.”

“You would beg me for sex here, in such a public place?”

“ Anywhere. ”

Waylay didn’t really mean that - she knew she had everything to risk, and very little to gain, relatively speaking. But right now, she just wanted satisfaction, and more than that she wanted Viper. She might have fallen to her knees and pleaded at her feet, but Viper made the first move, and it was not Waylay who would be on her knees. Viper spun her around before she could even react, removing her hand and causing Waylay to whine a little like a disciplined puppy as she looked Viper in the eye, exhaling heavily, her chest heaving and her fingers tingling. 

“They have one more rotation of defensive rounds before they get to break for the day,” Viper said. “How long do you think they’ll take?”

“Why do you-”

“Answer my question.”

Waylay swallowed a thick knot of anticipation as she realized what Viper was really asking.

“Fifteen minutes,” she said, her voice cracking. “Fifteen minutes,” she then repeated, more confidently. “They can stay patient.”

“I suppose if they disobey your instructions that will be your loss,” Viper said, smirking. “One way or another, you’ll have to do a lot of work with them over the coming weeks.”

“If you think that bothers me, you don’t know me.”

“I think you see opportunity and want to take it. Is that right?”

There was no other answer. Waylay could barely contain her shaking knees and trembling hands as Viper pushed her back against the window of the observation box and quickly, fluidly undid her belt and unzipped her pants, pulling them down to her ankles before she could so much as catch a breath or protest. And the moment she drew a breath to protest, Viper cut her off by dropping to her knees.

“The window is at waist height,” she said. “Nobody can look up and see below your waist, nor can they see me.”

“Viper, it’s-”

“Risky? Of course it’s risky. Everything enjoyable carries a little consequence.”

“This is beyond the pale.”

“Mmm.” Viper shrugged, the most blase about something Waylay had ever seen her. “Well, it’s not my head and shoulders that’s in view. Try to contain your shaking if you don’t want to arouse suspicion.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“I could stand back up and walk away, if you’d like.”

Viper successfully blocked her at every turn, and there was no way that Waylay could shave the edge off of this arrangement. It was true that nobody down on the training room floor could see anything but her clothed back, shoulders, and head. But she would have to control herself in a way she never had to before, and she planted her heels against the lower half of the brickwork as if to steady herself. She wanted to place her hands on the sill, but they found their way to Viper’s head of their own accord.

As for Viper, she was taking her sweet time down there, as though she could care less about Waylay’s ordeal over privacy. She remained fully clothed, not even removing her belt or unbuttoning her plaid shirt, but she was happy to hook her thumbs around the straps of Waylay’s panties and, in one smooth motion, draw them all the way down her thighs and calves to rest atop her pants. 

Waylay shivered, and not because a cold draught struck her.

“My, my. As gorgeous as ever. Picture perfect.”

“Ugh. That was dreadful.” Waylay even rolled her eyes.

“I’m allowed a few pithy jokes here and there,” Viper said, gazing up and offering the faintest smile. “After all, I’m the one who’s really in control here.”

“Is that so?”

“Prove otherwise. I could sit here all day and do nothing. You, on the other hand…”

Viper nudged the curve of Waylay’s thigh with her nose and then planted a kiss there, making her shudder and convulse and struggle to keep her straight back firm up against the window. Any movement, even subtle ones, could be seen from below. If she did not keep herself together, one of her mentees would surely see and wonder what, exactly, she was doing up there instead of commandeering their training session on the facility floor.

“You’re warm. Running hot, even.”

“I tend to do that,” Waylay gasped. “It’s even hotter up here…”

“I’m getting there.”

“Can you get there sooner?”

Viper just laughed, letting her tongue run a cool, crisp line up the inside of Waylay’s thigh. It was torture, and she loved every second of the anticipation that was bound to Viper’s deliberately slow, steady approach towards the slit of her cunt. She was practically dripping by the time Viper finally made it there and paused, as if to assess and analyze.

“I’m sorry,” Waylay squeaked, to her embarrassment. “I don’t shave regularly.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“It may make things a little more…difficult for you.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Now remain still, or your mentees will be hounding you with questions for weeks.”

She realized she was shaking again, the anticipation driving her mad. She had to remove her hands from Viper’s head, withdrawing from the pleasantly soft raven strands that she had been playing with, to steady herself against the sill. Viper did not appear to mind her bush and in fact dove right in, deciding the torment had been enough and that Waylay had earned her reward finally.

She was grateful that her hands were on the sill, for her hips bucked and spasmed and without the stability she might have collapsed against the window, or worse. There would have been no recovering from that mistake.

“Viper, ah.”

“Use your words.”

“I don’t need to. Just keep going.”

“I can do that.”

She didn’t want any pauses, not even to speak. She wanted Viper’s tongue, but not her voice, and she was more than content to make a variety of soft gasps and sighs rather than speak, as her mind melted with her body. She was incapable of doing anything but offering up her pleasure as Viper leaned in and lapped at her lips, then her clit, gently at times and then more assertively at others, her rhythm perfectly unpredictable and rendering Waylay little more than a heated, saturated mess desperate for the high of that orgasm she had been chasing ever since Viper made her into a reference pose. 

“Viper, ah. Please. Do not stop.”

Viper murmured something, her mouth full of sweat and slick and stray pubic hairs, happily lavishing Waylay with attention. She had enjoyed the comfort of female partners before, but never like this; never had she been so desperate to orgasm, and to scream her partner’s name, and to throw all caution to the wind even though she knew how dangerous that would be. She could not bring herself to care now.

“Viper. Oh, Viper. Your name, I-”

Viper paused, and withdrew, and Waylay nearly doubled over. The agony of deprivation was such that she could have moaned, in both pleasure and frustration, and had to bite her bottom lip to subdue herself.

“You don’t get to say my name,” Viper said stiffly, surprisingly assertive. “You don’t have that right.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“ Viper. I’m Viper. That’s all I am to you right now. That’s all you’re going to call me.”

“Yes.”

“Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Good. As it should be.”

Waylay did not understand what that brief, tense exchange left her wanting even more. She thrust her hips forward to meet Viper’s lips and gasped when they did, wishing she could hear more of that authoritative voice in her ear as she neared her high. This time she moaned even louder, and this time she made an effort to be as vulgar as possible as she rode the high on Viper’s tongue. The other woman shifted her posture slightly to lean into the orgasm, even though she winced as Waylay drove her hips forward multiple times, and remained there until Waylay collapsed against the wall, no longer able to hold herself up.

She prayed that nobody below was looking. If they were, she imagined she would know pretty soon.

“Hmmm.” Viper was still on her knees, her icy gaze thawed somewhat, satisfied with her work. “You make for a really pretty mess, do you know that?”

“Fuck off. Is that all you have to say after that?”

“I wanted to say less. I’m being polite.”

“Ha. As if.” But she changed tack quickly. “That was really nice. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Viper narrowed her eyes. “Seriously, don’t mention it. This doesn’t leave this room. And before you ask, Cypher has kindly disabled the camera here.”

“Does he一”

“If he suspects, he knows to keep his mouth shut.”

“I’m not reassured.”

“You should be. Word of the wise, you might consider… cooling down a little before stepping out. You’re flushed.”

Waylay could feel the heat, and not just between her slick, throbbing legs. That heat had migrated to her cheeks and her head, making her feel light-headed and giving her a tangible blush. The experience felt like it had lasted a half hour, when in reality it was half that at best. The training course lights shot up and the buzzer sounded, indicating that the run was finished successfully. Any minute now her mentees would sally out of the obstacle course and await her feedback and assessment before dismissal.

She swallowed. “Right.”

Slapping her cheeks, she turned to return to the catwalk, gingerly zipping up her pants and allowing herself several deep breaths before exiting, taking a glance at the scoreboard to make sure her feedback would be close to appropriate. Spying her trainees congregating, she leapt down, dashing forward at the last moment into a clean forward roll before shakily returning to her feet.

“Ok everyone, Reyna’s off this afternoon so you can take the rest of the time to yourselves. I think we’ve improved some here, but your tactics still need work. You’ve learned patience, but there’s still some coordination to be improved upon. We’ll run the simulation again sometime in the future, maybe at a different simulated location. Remember, I know you have the individual skill, what you need is to make calls and follow them as a team. See you all next time.”

The agents slowly began filtering out, and Waylay was about to leave when Phoenix walked up to her.

“Boss, you good? You look a little uncomfortable.”

Waylay waved him off. “I’m fine, I think the summer’s just getting to me. I should ask Brim about getting me a less insulated uniform.” To underscore her point, she feigned a dramatic wipe of her forehead, which was slick with sweat from something else.

Phoenix did not quite know what to say, but he saluted jovially.”Kay, boss, until next time! Thanks for doing what you do for us!”

“You’re welcome…”

Waylay watched as he hurried out the room to catch up to the others. She moved to follow him, making it a short distance down the hall when a hand caught her wrist, pulling her back into the indoor balcony.

Viper smiled, brandishing a large roll of paper. “I almost forgot. I think you’ve earned it.”

Waylay glanced at the sheet of paper, hungrily imagining her aroused visage carved upon it. But just as she moved to reach out to receive it, another thought occurred to her.

“Viper?”

Viper met her gaze. “Yes?”

“Is this everything you want from me?”

She frowned. “I’m not following.”

“I think if you just wanted to fuck me we wouldn’t have run in circles around it for so long, wouldn’t have waited until I stole your notebook to pull all this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

“You’re free to prove me wrong. But in the meantime, I can stay wondering a while longer. I’d rather know your thoughts on getting dinner.”

“You’re serious.”

“I know a good spot a short distance by VLTR. I’m sure I could convince Brimstone to let us out for an evening.”

Viper sighed. “You know how to butter the man up, I’ll give you that.”

“Then if there’s no objection,” Waylay replied, “what do you say?”

Viper said nothing, but smiled.