I had a hunch and, upon searching the Fanfiction databanks, my hunch was confirmed: there is a disturbing lack of the amazing Lady of Clockwork. So! I've decided I'll (eventually) utilize the less commonly mentioned Champions in the League right here in my fics. One might call them… Crack pairings.

Even Xerath needs love, guys! And Trundle and Volibear and Brand, too.

Disclaimer: Do not own. Thank you, GrimGrave, my dear beta. Feedback is both encouraged and greatly appreciated :3

lll

"What's eating you, Cupcake?"

The blue-haired woman sighed and shook her head, but didn't look at her ally and closest friend. She wasn't sure when the Enforcer had snuck into her office, but she didn't have the energy to berate the hard-headed crime fighter about privacy and personal space. Not today.

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar you know." Vi scratched the back of her head, frowning thoughtfully. "You always get upset after we battle against that psycho-robot chick—it's like clockwork."

Something cold and ugly stirred in the sharpshooter's heart, but she didn't comment. Years of being the role model for a perfect city had taught her patience beyond measure, a lesson which had included the subject poise and grace in the face of something unpleasant.

And, right now, her thoughts—more accurately, the feelings her memories awakened—were quite unpleasant.

"Cait." Her tone was softer now and she rested a comforting hand on her superior's shoulder. "Go home, okay?"

The pinkette hadn't expected the (overly) hard-working woman to listen, which was why she was utterly shocked when Caitlyn sighed again and mumbled, "Maybe I should."

She watched as the Sheriff exited the building from the second floor office, an uncharacteristic slump in her shoulders, and said softly, "Em?"

There was a faint 'blip' as the A.I. awoke from standby. "Yes?"

Vi circled around to the high-backed chair on the other side of the blue-haired woman's desk, sitting down heavily and carefully lifting the document Caitlyn had been staring at blankly for the past hour from its polished surface. Nothing ruffled the policewoman's feathers more than having her tidy work space disturbed.

"Pull up any information you have about a man named Corin Reveck."

"Searching…" Emma's faint cyan glow brightened as she located what she was looking for and projected an image of a handsome, middle-aged man with blonde hair and kind features. "Executing file replay now."

A recording, whether video or audio or even a collection of articles and accolades, should have appeared on the far wall, projected directly from Emma's databanks. Instead, there was a sharp warning trill and the holographic woman clapped her hands over her ears, displaying discomfort for the first time in nearly a decade of partnership.

"M-madam Vi, this file appears to be encrypted with level four security measures. I—" Whatever she had to say was lost in a horrible, static-y sound and her body began to fade, losing luminescence in a way that made the pinkette's stomach twist anxiously. Sparks burst forth from her collar as the communicator embedded within short-circuited, burning pale flesh and, swearing colourfully, the bruiser ran a manual override, shutting down the A.I's power source to prevent any damage to the program's complex systems.

The heat disappeared suddenly, its tinder having been removed, and the bruiser slumped, gingerly touching the raw skin on the side of her neck.

Who in the world would want to stop others from looking into the man's project, titled simply, "The Ball"?

There were only three people in all of Piltover who had clearance to use level four security protocol—the mayor himself, the genius, Heimerdinger, and the woman who had just left the office mere moments before.

It didn't take much puzzling to figure out the culprit, which lead to another question: why?

Maybe it was time to enlist the help of a certain furry genius.

It had been a different time—a time when people wanted to join the League of Legends, going so far as to training themselves for the coveted position of Champion. It was a time when fighting on the Fields of Justice was a romantic ideal—a chance for naïve young girls and boys to become heroes.

And it was for that very reason that Caitlyn had made it a taboo to mention the Champions' involvement with the Summoners of the Institute of War and, after a year or two, the League of Legends had become nothing more than a whispered rumor. It was better that way. If some young, brave individual got hurt during their attempts to join the Institute's ranks, she would never forgive herself.

Not again.

Her chest constricted painfully and the sniper braced her arm against the lacquered wood of her front door, dropping her head and taking in several deep, calming breaths.

They did nothing to dim the tumult within, however, and she snapped her eyes shut, berating herself inwardly for her own stupidity. Why had she gone and unearthed the past? What good came from opening old wounds?

"Stupid…"

She tensed as the second door swung inwards to reveal a tall, metallic figure dressed in a long, Victorian-style dress. "Welcome home, Lady Caitlyn. What do you find to be lacking in intelligence?"

"Hello, Vanessa."

"Your vitals are elevated." It wasn't possible for the android to sound concerned, but Caitlyn could easily imagine that the hextech-powered machine was. Vanessa had been a part of the family for decades, after all—she had practically raised the young woman herself in the absence of the bluette's father.

It was Vanessa who had taught her everything she knew about sharpshooting—Vanessa who she owed her success as a crime fighter to. Without the android, she wasn't sure what she'd have done…

/ "Lady Caitlyn, please do not fret. Your father cares for you."

The young woman trembled with rage, her hands balling into fists at her side. "Don't lie for him, Vanessa. If he did, he'd be here—not kissing the arses of corporate bigwigs. "

"I am incapable of untruths. It is against my programming." The android tilted her head. "Why don't we play a game while we await his return?"

"… What kind of game?"

There was a hydraulic hiss as the android's chest plate unlatched, sliding outwards and upwards to allow the automaton to access the weaponry lining her chasses. She procured a revolver, placing it in the teen's hand and pointing towards an expensive vase on the living room mantle. "We began with proper breathing techniques last week. I believe you are ready to practice accuracy."

"Dad would kill me…" With a broad, pleased grin, the girl lifted the firearm, squinted an eye shut, and fired. /

"Lady Caitlyn?"

She snapped out of her reverie, stepping past the android and heading through the foyer, into her study. It was a lavish affair, filled with detective paraphernalia, rich mahogany furniture, and brass fixtures, and it saw more use than any other room in the house. More often than not, she fell asleep here, waking up in her bed due to Vanessa's vigilance.

"Locate file 98662-Y regarding Professor Reveck's research on magical constructs."

"My creator." It was a statement, not a question, but the Sheriff knew better.

"Yes… I need to know something."

"Locating file…" Crimson eyes went dead before flaring to life, burning brighter than before. "File found. Desired action?

"Replay file."

The android nodded. "Please input override."

"Admin code…" She cleared her throat, her heart thudding duly against the inside of her chest. "Lady of Clockwork."

"Access granted."

Vanessa turned her head, producing a detailed holographic image from bright red optics that rivaled the clarity of the memories that plagued her mistress's troubled mind.

/ "My name is Corin Reveck," a deep male voice stated. The camera shook a bit, as though being steadied, its lens showing the cluttered innards of a state of the art laboratory. "I've been trying for months to perfect my concept of techmaturgics and their applications to magical constructs and, at last, I think I've achieved my goal. Subject A01 has proven to be nothing short of perfection."

Reveck appeared on screen, his hair quite a bit grayer than Caitlyn remembered. He seemed excited—another detail that her memory was fuzzy on. The Reveck she knew had been severely depressed; bereft in the way of a parent who had outlived their child.

"Her chassis is made from reinforced alloys capable of withstanding over a million pounds of pressure. She is virtually indestructible, yet light and hollow—allowing for the graceful movements of a dancer, which are instrumental to her unique style of combat." A puzzled little frown furrowed his brow. "Unfortunately, subject shows no signs of recalling past experiences beyond what was programmed. Still, this is a huge breakthrough!"

The camera panned out, its focus shifting to the android that sat stock-still on the worktable, her optics offline.

"Orianna?"

There was a robotic whirring and the automaton's optics became suffused with white-blue energy as she straightened her spine, turning her head to regard the man. "Yes… Father?" /

"… Enough."

The playback ended at that abrupt command, the frozen image of that familiar, blank silver visage of the spell-caster fading from view.

"No sign of recalling past experiences"—that line haunted her.

Reveck had built Vanessa only a few years before the tragic accident that had required him to rebuild his own daughter and, during the years that Orianna had disappeared from the public eye, the sniper had taken solace in the knowledge that her own personal android's sleek silver chassis was the closest thing she would have to the friend she had lost. Until, of course, they had met on the Fields of Justice. Caitlyn still remembered the agony of seeing that achingly familiar face and the lack of recognition in cool blue eyes.

The brilliant man had perfected his techmaturgy in the creation of his daughter, though he had erased all traces of her humanity, and the clockwork killing machine was a work of art.

Deadly, beautiful art.

"Did you find the information you required?"

The woman nodded wordlessly, despair choking the air from her lungs and pricking her eyes. But she didn't let the tears fall, not while Vanessa was watching her so intently. "Thank you. That will be all."

"My lady…" Could an automaton sound hesitant? Apparently the module that housed her capacity for sympathy had overloaded.

"That will be all," Caitlyn repeated, her tone sharp. She wasn't in the mood for compassion.

"G'mornin', Chief."

Caitlyn straightened, not bothering to hide the fact that there were bags under her eyes or that she had been dozing at her desk, which was totally unlike the strict, upright woman. "Vi… It's not like you to come in on time."

"Actually, I was here when you came in." This was even odder because the Sheriff always got to work an hour early… "You walked right past me to catch the elevator."

Had she? But that still didn't explain—"Why are you here?"

"I was working on a little side project."

"That project wouldn't have anything to do with the files piling up on your desk, would it?"

"Naw." The pinkette yawned hugely and shook her head as if to clear it. Having to put up with the Revered Inventor's scientific prattle all night had drained her mentally and the all-nighter itself had sapped her strength physically. Still, it would be well worth it if Heimerdinger's tinkering made it so that Orianna—

Vi grinned and her superior frowned suspiciously out of reflex. "What are you plotting?"

"Don't you worry, Cupcake, I'm on my best behavior. Now if you'll excuse me…"

When she turned to leave, icy blue eyes narrowed. "Vi?"

She paused in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"What happened to your neck?"

The bruiser snorted. "Long story. I'll catch you later. Gonna catch a nap at my desk."

"I expect that paperwork to be done!" Caitlyn called after her partner in crime.

"Yeah, yeah."

Summoner's Rift appeared in a flash of white light and Caitlyn stepped off of the fountain pad, intent on venting some of the emotions that stirred beneath her breast. She tried to avoid looking in the direction of her allies, knowing full well that the Lady of Clockwork's vacant gaze—the lack of recognition therein—would break her heart.

The magical construct still looked very much like her human self, the shiny silver metal that replaced flesh doing nothing to dull the exquisite beauty of her features, so in some ways it was as though the Orianna in her memories had erased her completely.

Caitlyn flinched as the aforementioned Champion pirouetted gracefully into her path, curtsying with the same elegance and regarding her ally.

"Hello, Sherriff." There was a new note in that robotic deadpan, a light to glowing optics that made the bluette's pulse race. "It is good to see you again."

It couldn't be. She didn't dare hope that this wasn't mere coincidence. "Orianna…?"

The magical construct tilted her head, reaching out. She hesitated, clawed fingertips an inch away from soft skin, before closing the gap and wiping away a single tear that spilled from icy blue eyes in an achingly gentle motion unlike any of the actions she had been programmed to perform. "Please do not cry."

But the sniper couldn't help herself, her happiness leaking out in twin streams as she tried in vain to wipe them away. When a cool hand rested on her shoulder, she gasped, her heart in her throat. Glowing white-blue orbs peered into hers and the whirling energy within was almost… sad.

"I… have missed you."

How was that possible? Reveck had said…

"I missed you, too." She really, really had. "How…?"

"It is as though I have awoken from a deep slumber. I remember us. Together." Thin lips quirked upwards at the edges in the approximation of a smile. "You were dear to me. We were happy."

"I remember." They were memories she didn't visit too often because of the heartache that accompanied them, but she couldn't possibly forget.

"Would it be possible for us to grasp happiness once again?"

"What would make you happy, my dear?" It seemed so natural to call her that, the affection that the nickname carried burning just as strongly as it had almost a decade ago.

"It was my dream… For us to fight side-by-side on the Fields of Justice." Orianna offered her hand. "Will you fight with me?"

Adoration flooded Caitlyn; the pure intentions that had driven the girl to train until her muscles gave out still existed within that metal shell. The Orianna that she had come to care for deeply was still in there somewhere.

"Always," the sniper promised, taking the cool metal appendage in hers. A smile threatened to split her face in two, her heart beating strongly, the steady beat akin to the whirring clockwork that powered the lovely hextech automaton before her.

Half-way across the battle field, Vi smiled, blinking back her own sympathetic tears as she surreptitiously watched the other Champions' interaction.

Caitlyn owed her one—big time.