Following Jayce and Viktor's sudden rise to relevance, they were thrust into the limelight. Naturally, you saw nothing of Viktor, what with him being busy with meetings and planning and inventing and whatever science-y things he did. Part of you was rather sad, though you didn't like to acknowledge it.

After your (soul-crushingly awful) job doing the drawing logs, you gained the confidence to apply for an illustrators position at a local newspaper. To your surprise, you got the job, and were quickly swept up into a world of deadlines and sleepless nights. Regardless, you much preferred it to your previous state of unemployment and, apart from the regular wrist cramps, found it fun - most of the time.

It was jarring how quickly you returned to normal life. Only a week after the whole accidentally-breaking-into-Heimerdingers-lab scenario, it all felt oddly dreamlike. The only evidence of it all ever happening was the absence of your sketchpad, which still hadn't been returned. With the collective money you had earned from your past and present jobs, however, you had invested in a new one. Still, it didn't feel like a satisfactory ending to it all.

A month and a half later, and you had almost forgot about it all, as if it had all been filed away into the 'Interesting Conversation Starters' part of your brain.

Life moved on, and you had to move with it.

Then came the knock at the door.

It was the middle of a bright, cold day and, as you always were these days, you were at home working. The days were getting shorter and the nights were getting longer; though it was only mid-afternoon, you already had all the lights in your home turned on, it was so dark.

Upon hearing the rat-a-tat-tat, you sat up and listened for a moment. The walls in the apartments you lived in were so thin, at times you could hear the person next door clear their throat. Apart from the occasional mailman, you had few people knocking at your door. Could it be from next door?

The knocking came again. Sticking your pencil behind your ear, you stretched, stood, and went to investigate.

More knocking.

"Coming!" you called as you navigated your way through the work-related clutter that had accumulated on the floor of your office (it was really just a spare room with a desk, set of draws, and an ungodly amount of potted plants, but you liked sounding professional).

You barrelled through your living room, unlocked the door and opened it to find-

No one.

You frowned. Have I seriously just been ding-dong-ditched? was your first annoyed thought.

However, as you glanced both ways down the corridor, you spotted a person walking in the opposite direction, back facing you. In one hand, he held a cane.

No way.

"Hello?" you called out, then, as the person looked over his shoulder, you said again - surprised this time, "Oh, hello."

Viktor turned around and smiled. "Ah, Y/N," he greeted with a curt nod. "Good afternoon."

"Did you just knock on my door?" you asked, unsure if this was a mad coincidence or an even madder intentional occurrence.

"No," he answered flatly. "It was him." He pointed down the corridor with his cane, and you turned to look. It was empty.

You huffed, rolling your eyes in mock annoyance. "So you've to disrupt my work and play me for a fool?"

"It is what I do best," he said with a flourish. "But in all seriousness, if this is an inconvenient time for you I can come back later-"

"Oh no, no, I'm not doing anything important. So you're here to see... me?"

"Why else would I be here?"

You shrugged, your surprise still rendering you unable to think of a witty answet. "Do you want to come in..?"

He glanced at his watch, thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure."

Your apartment was small; perfect for a single occupant such as yourself - not so good for company. Still, you managed to both sit somewhat comfortably, him on the couch, you on the chair you had dragged from your office. From the seating arrangement, it felt oddly like an interrogation of some sorts.

"Do you want tea?" you offered. "Or..." Checking your cupboards, you saw your coffee had been used up in your last procrastination-fueled all-nighter. "... Tea?"

"If it's not too much hassle for you, then yes, please."

You made yourself a cup and at his request added a dash of milk and three sugars to his.

"So... What brings you here?" you asked once settled, deciding that 'What are you doing here?' sounded too confrontational. But before he could answer, another - more concerned - question darted to the front of your mind and wedged it's way out of your mouth. "Wait- how did you know where I lived?"

The abrupt question took him by surprise as much as it did you. He stared intently into his cup for a moment before answering. "Eh... I saw your work in the newspaper and recognised the name. From there it was a simple matter of tracing the source and... I insist I didn't do this to be creepy," he cut in as your expression grew more and more incredulous.

"Is this legal?" you asked, but your question went unnoticed as he continued.

"I've been meaning to visit sooner, but haven't had the time what with Hextech and all that... But. I'm here, and I wanted to finally return-" He rummaged in his pocket and withdrew- "this."

You gasped, beaming. Gently you took the sketchpad - your sketchpad - from him, cradling it as if it might crumble should you grasp it too tightly. You flicked through the pages to make sure they were all intact, each drawing re-entering your memory like an old friend.

"They're all there," Viktor said, pulling you from your reunion of paper and ink. "The drawings - I mean. They should be, at least."

"They are, don't worry." You could barely contain your happiness to finally have it back. You didn't realise how much you missed the familiar spattering of inky fingerprints on the cover, the way the paper crinkled beneath your fingers. "This pretty much makes up for all the stalk-y business."

"I promise you, I wasn't-"

"I know, I know." You hugged the book close to your chest. "Thank you so so much."

"Eh, it's the least I could do," he said nonchalantly. "It was my fault for taking it in the first place."

"True, but if you hadn't have taken it," you said, waving the book, "I never would've gotten front-row seats to the creation of Hextech."

"How so?"

"Well, you never would've known I draw, so I never would've gotten the log-job, so I never would've been at the Academy on the night to witness it all."

"Hm." His eyebrows quirked as he took a sip of the tea. "Hextech may never have even been founded."

You made a disbelieving noise. "That's a little far."

He shrugged. "Maybe. But if you hadn't have been there so late to keep ahold of the keys, Jayce and I would've never have even been able to enter Heimerdinger's lab."

You finally realised (nearly two months late) why he had been so jittery and abrupt on the night.

"You mean you took advantage of my tenancy to procrastinate in order to benefit your little break-in scheme?" You tutted, feigning theatrical disgust. "And to think I invited you in for tea."

"It is very nice tea," he said quietly, suppressing a smile.

"But still," you said, "I suppose you're right. It's funny, how all these big events are built up of so many of little happenings. I guess we'll never know what could've happened if even one small thing hadn't occured."

"I guess we won't," he echoed.

You blew on your tea in the thoughtful silence that followed. He absentmindedly fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt.

"Hey, how is Hextech coming along, anyway?" you asked to finally break the silence.

He blinked out of his daze, taking a moment to register the question. "Good," he said. "Great - actually."

From there he launched into a long-winded ramble, recounting the constant stream of Council meetings he had to attend, describing the range of new scientific equipment now available for him and Jayce to use as they wished, explaining his projects using more words that you didn't understand than did.

You were happy to simply sip at your tea and listen, providing small remarks and questions to carry the conversation along. You found it sweet how much he lit up whilst discussing something he had such a passion for; his eyes were bright, hands gesturing with each word he spoke.

What caught your attention most was his and Jayce's most recent project: Hexgates. He had explained the technology behind the new, complex structures using an array of words you had never heard before and probably couldn't pronounce. Still, you found the concept itself intriguing.

"If we are able to set up even one in another country or city, the effect on Piltover's economy and trade industry would be colossal."

"That would be incredible

"Of course, it's still in the works. There is the matter of working out how to stabilise and harness the power on such a scale - not to mention

"So it'd be like that weird ball of energy when we were doing all the floaty stuff, only a lot bigger?"

"Exactly."

"Wow."

"Again, thanks to you, you've saved me a decent amount of paper work and testing by proving that biological matter can be safely transported via the Hexcube."

"You're saying there was a risk that I could've been, like, vaporised or something?" you balked, thinking back to the buzzing, electrical feeling that had engulfed your entire body as you had accidentally made contact with the Hex-thingymajig. You hadn't even been aware of how close you could've been to becoming a pile of ash.

"Yes..." He drew the word out, wincing. "But you're still intact, which is good."

"Obviously."

"You are intact, aren't you?" he added quickly. "You haven't experiencing any... side-effects?"

You chucked at how he managed to switch from light-conversationalist to frantic-scientist mode so quickly. "I'm fine, Viktor, don't worry."

"Certain?"

"Very."

"Good, good. Would you mind if I... asked you a few medical questions? For the Hexgate project. 'Have you been experiencing any change in your sleep pattern', '-noticed any unusual pains', et cetera. It'd add some authenticity to my papers."

"To prove you don't just go around blowing people up?"

He tilted his head in a half-nod half-shrug. "Basically."

"Alright."

He reached into his pocket to retrieve presumably a notepad, but caught a glance of his watch while doing so. He stood abruptly, grabbing his cane and coat as he did so.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I have to go. I didn't realise it was so late. I intend to come here whilst on break, I didn't realise how much time has passed-" He shrugged on his coat. "Thank you very much for the tea - and the company."

You walked him to the door, wishing him luck with Hextech and thanking him again for returning your book (to which he again insisted it was the least he could do). At the threshold, he hesitated for a moment, as if suddenly remembering something, and turned to you.

"I have a free afternoon in a couple days time," he said, suddenly becoming engrossed by the buttons on his coat. "I was wondering - if you're not too busy, that is- if you would like to meet again? To continue with the questions, I mean. Only if you're available. If you're already doing something, don't feel the need to-"

"That'd be lovely, Viktor," you cut in, interrupting his rambling spiel. "Do you want to meet here, or..?"

"I was thinking my spot- I mean, your spot - no- The place with the cogs and-"

"The little stream?" you finished.

He smiled. "Yes."

You both stood awkwardly for a moment, each waiting for the other to turn and go.

"Well..." you started. "Thank you - again - for coming round. I'll see you on-" It took you a moment to calculate what day it was. "- Tuesday?"

"Yes," he said with a little nod. "Goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye."

Once you shut the door, you stood for a moment and allowed yourself a little smile, before returning to your work.

so