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When It Rains, It Pours

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Caitlyn sits on her couch, hand pressed to her sternum in a shockingly accurate impression of her very prim grandmother, God rest her soul, and contemplates the past few minutes. She’s absolutely certain she’s never experienced this level of attraction to anyone, let alone a stranger . It’s all shockingly improper. 

Her heart rate speeds up again and her core clenches around nothing as she viscerally recalls crashing softly into Vi’s solid warmth and the way Vi’s strong arms had felt, sure and strong around her waist, the way she had felt the shorter woman’s breath catch; and, of course, the way Caitlyn had almost thrown propriety out the window entirely and leaned in to capture Vi’s lips with her own to discover for herself if she could feel the small scar splitting her upper lip. 

At that moment, she hears Vi cursing quietly but vehemently, clanging around behind the wall in a moderately concerning manner. The thought that Vi is here to do a job does not disperse her arousal the way it should, and she feels the flush spread from her face down to her chest as wet fluid dribbles out of her swelling core and into her panties. Shit . Maybe a glass of water will help. Yes. A glass of water to cool her…everything. 

She walks resolutely over to the kitchen.


Vi’s got her head in the utility closet, but her mind is, it’s fair to say, elsewhere . Like, say, on the woman in the other room who has all but obliterated her expectations - she’s kicking herself a little bit over her assumptions from the drive over - and replaced them with both a large amount of awe and searing, blistering lust. 

She’s still reeling from their encounter in the hallway. The space Caitlyn’s retreat to the living area giving her ample time to remember the soft, surprised rush of Caitlyn’s breath on her neck as Vi caught her, the press of the impressive swell of her chest against Vi’s own, and the sensation of slender, strong fingers on her bicep leaving Vi with tendrils of warmth wrapping over her shoulder and down to her fingers. Vi shakes her head and the arm holding her wrench to clear the memory of Caitlyn’s touch. 

Stupid , she thinks to herself. Stupid to be so worked up over a complete stranger. Stupid to want the inexplicable way she does. Stupid to want to stay in Caitlyn’s life after this - actually pretty straightforward - repair job is over. And stupid to regret that Caitlyn didn’t kiss her with a ferocity that feels like her chest is being turned inside out. 

Scoffing at her self-destructive inner monologue - hey, she’s been to therapy…lots of therapy - Vi tosses her wrench back into her toolbox, standing up straight to crack her neck, and taking a deep breath to prepare herself to walk past Caitlyn and out to her truck to get the water heater and replacement parts for the detachable shower head. 

Taking the few steps back down the tiny hallway, Vi rounds the corner into the living area and spots Caitlyn’s slender frame leaning against the kitchen counter, slightly flushed and holding a glass of water against her forehead. She clears her throat and huffs an endeared laugh when Caitlyn startles at the sound. 

“I’m heading out to the truck to grab the replacement parts - your water heater’s busted, and I need to replace your showerhead, so I’m gonna need to shut off the water for a bit to get everything done. You know offhand where the shutoff for your unit is?” Caitlyn’s been listening to her with rapt attention, and, at Vi’s question, she nods, 

“Oh! Yes, it’s in the basement.” She takes a pause, looking away for a moment, her blue eyes widening and snapping back into Vi’s steel gray ones with no small amount of horror, “There’s no elevator! Goodness, how could I have forgotten? I should have told Jinx about the stairs - you’ll have to carry the water heater up four flights. Do you need to call someone to come assist? Or come back tomorrow? I suppose I can–”

Vi cuts off Caitlyn’s endearing ramble with a laugh. “Relax, Cupcake. It’s really sweet of you to be so concerned, but the water heater’s no problem. They’re really not that heavy,” Caitlyn shoots her a dubious look, but Vi continues on, “I’ll head down and bring up the new water heater, as well as a few options for a replacement shower head while your old one drains, and then I’ll turn off the water to do the rest of the repairs.” 

Caitlyn still looks dubious, but she says, “Okay, thank you,” and walks over to open the door. 

It takes her a couple trips to set her water heater up to drain, bring up the shower parts and the repair pieces for the water heater in case she needs to replace any of the connecting parts, as well as some extra towels, and, finally, haul the water heater up the four flights. 


Vi’s sweating slightly by the time she makes the final trip with the new water heater, and Caitlyn can see from her vantage point on the couch that the skin of her face and forearms where she’s pushed up the sleeves of the borrowed sweatshirt is glistening lightly. It really only serves to enhance the tattoos inked over her skin, and the ripple of muscle Caitlyn can see where the baggy sweatshirt is pulled flush against Vi’s heated skin is making her earlier glass of water entirely irrelevant. 

The sudden thought that she’d look even better slung over Vi’s shoulder than that water heater causes Caitlyn to immediately choke on the cup of tea she had made herself while Vi was bringing up the parts for the repair. 

A, “You okay there, Cupcake?” from the subject of her brief but very vivid fantasy does nothing to ease the redness in Caitlyn’s face, though she does manage to respond in the affirmative. 

A few minutes later, Vi reappears and says, “here are the options for the showerhead replacement that match the finish on the other stuff in your bathroom. Your water pressure seems good, so I can put one of these fancy ones with multiple settings in if you want.” 

Caitlyn does her level best not to let her thoughts stray too far into the realm of “yes, I do masturbate in my shower and would love different speed settings,” as she answers, as nonchalantly as possible, “sure, that sounds good. Thank you, Vi.” 

Vi shoots her a quick smile that makes her heart beat a little faster, get a grip, Caitlyn , and says “okay, I’m going to finish up in there. Should take me about an hour? Then I’ll turn the water back on and you should be golden.” It’s at that moment that Vi exhales heavily, hooking one hand in the hem of her borrowed sweatshirt, and lifts it up to her forehead to wipe away the sweat that’s gathered there. 

Small waist, abs, defined lines, ridged muscle, scars…scars?

Caitlyn makes a pathetic, little squeaking noise that she’d deny if anyone ever asked her about it, and her face goes so red she’s sure steam’s about to come pouring out of her ears. Vi seems unaware of her plight, at least until she looks at Caitlyn and abruptly drops the hem of the shirt. 

Caitlyn’s staring again, mouth softly hanging open, but this time Vi just smirks at her, grabs the new shower head, and walks off toward the bathroom to finish the repairs. 

Once Vi’s out of sight, Caitlyn allows herself an undignified groan, slouching back into the couch cushions and pressing her fingertips into both of her eyebrows in an attempt to drive out the image of Vi’s chiseled, scar-covered torso. Another mystery. 


Vi’s true to her word. It’s just about an hour later - Caitlyn had moved into her office after about ten minutes of pathetic pining - and Vi appears in her office door with a quiet knock on the doorframe. 

When Caitlyn looks up, Vi continues, “water’s back on and everything looks good, Cupcake! If I can just get you to sign these, you’ll be good to go,” Caitlyn waves her forward toward the desk, “repair’s guaranteed, so if you have any trouble, just call in.” 

Caitlyn reads through and signs the neat repair invoice, reaching into her desk to grab her checkbook and fill out the amount specified on the slip, plus a generous tip. She stands and hands the clipboard back to Vi, gesturing toward the doorway as she does. 

Vi takes her cue and walks back toward the main area of her apartment, and Caitlyn follows. As she follows Vi out of her office, Caitlyn spies the plate of lemon cake sitting on the kitchen counter and calls a soft, “oh, wait for a moment, would you?” to Vi. 

The plumber halts, almost at the front door and turns to face Caitlyn, who’s now retrieved the cake plate. She looks curious, and Caitlyn clarifies: 

“My neighbor gave me some lemon cake and told me to share with ‘the boys,’ when they came over to fix the shower,” she chuckles, and Vi laughs with her, “it’s delicious, and I’ve already had several slices, so, here” she holds the covered plate out to Vi, who takes it with a grateful smile, and hands her the carbon copy from her invoice.

“Thanks, Cupcake. You give me a call if anything goes wrong with the repairs, yeah? I left my number on the invoice for you. I’ll need to drop by with the clothes and the plate - thanks again, by the way - it okay to text you about a time?” 

Caitlyn smiles and nods at Vi’s thoroughness, and says, “yes, of course! Call or text any time, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I’m able.” 

“Great! Unfortunately, I do have to get going on other calls, so would you mind?” she nods toward the door and Caitlyn springs into action, swinging the door open for Vi, who’s got her hands full with the cake plate and clipboard. 

Caitlyn’s loath to let Vi leave before she knows more about her, knows what her lips feel against her own, but she can’t keep Vi from her job, so she simply says, 

“Thank you for everything, really, Vi. It’s been a pleasure.” 

She gets a crooked grin and a “take care of yourself, Cupcake,” before Vi’s headed back down the hallway, whistling a jaunty tune. 


Caitlyn’s swung the door shut behind Vi, and is now leaning her forehead against it, fighting against the insane urge to - what? Ask Vi to come back? Break something else in her apartment so she has an excuse for a few extra hours with her plumber? Ridiculous. 

Standing up straight with a huff, Caitlyn turns around and pulls off her shirt, walking through her apartment to her laundry hamper and chucking it in emphatically. She does the same with the rest of her clothes, and walks down the short hall to her bathroom, excited to finally wash off the sweat from the morning’s workout. 

She turns the temperature controls for the water, pleased to discover that they respond almost immediately with the correct temperature, and tugs up on the little mechanism that switches the water from the tub to the shower head, figuring she might as well test Vi’s handiwork. She fiddles with the different settings on the shower head until she finds one that seems appropriate for washing her hair and getting herself clean, and hops in. 

Caitlyn’s gotten through washing and conditioning her hair - the one thing about herself she’s always been a little vain about - and has moved on to washing the rest of her body, gently rinsing away stale sweat from her workout and the frustration over her plumbing problems. 

When she reaches between her legs to wash herself, however, she’s reminded of how wet she’d gotten during Vi’s visit, and she startles a little at the slickness and latent sensitivity. Rather than continuing her methodical scrub down, Caitlyn reaches up for her showerhead without a second thought, pulling it down and clicking through the settings until she finds one that directs the water in a narrow, pulsing stream. 

She holds the showerhead a few inches from her body, and traces it slowly over one shoulder and across to the other, letting herself be lulled by the sensuality of the water on her skin. 

Her mind conjures the moment in the hallway, except, in her mind, Caitlyn had followed through with that moment in the hallway, kissing Vi with everything she had, pressing her body to Vi’s and feeling her press back. 

Caitlyn traces the stream water from her shoulders to her sternum and down to lazily circle each of her breasts in turn. 

In her mind, Caitlyn tastes Vi’s gear tattoo, holds the small waist she remembers so vividly from Vi’s dousing in the shower. 

The pulsing water traces from her breasts and slowly down her quivering stomach as Caitlyn imagines sliding to her knees in front of Vi, pressing kisses to her pierced nipples and then to every scar on Vi’s stomach, helping her step out her work boots and borrowed sweats. 

The pulsing stream of water reaches her aching clit, and Caitlyn flings her hand out to brace herself against the shower wall as her inner muscles clench around nothing. 

Her mind pictures vividly the feel of Vi’s muscular thigh draped over her shoulder as Caitlyn leans in and licks her in a broad stroke from her entrance to her clit, repeating the motion and hearing Vi moan. 

In the shower, Caitlyn runs the stream of pulsing water forward and backward, mimicking what she wants so badly to do to Vi. 

In her fantasy, she’s moaning at Vi’s taste, licking deeper inside her to taste her more fully, feeling Vi’s inner muscles flutter around her tongue. She licks her way back to Vi’s clit and suckles it gently, feeling Vi’s thigh shake on her shoulder, her toes curling against her back. 

All of a sudden, the combination of her imagination and the feeling of the water on her aching, straining clit is enough and Caitlyn buckles forward, leaning harder on the hand pressed into the wall as her thighs shake and she feels new wetness rush out of her, dripping out and mixing with the water that’s still rushing over her pussy. 

She reaches down quickly and switches the showerhead to a gentler, more diffuse setting, tracing a path around her thighs and over her twitching flesh to aid in coming down from her orgasm. 

When she can breathe properly again, Caitlyn straightens and replaces her shower head. Stepping back under the stream of water, the persistent ache between her thighs finally satiated, she feels regret about not having actually kissed Vi. As she finishes the rest of her shower, she wonders if she’ll get the chance again.