Kat-ch Me if You Can (Pixiv Fanbox)

Over time Kat and Christine have developed a relationship that I find particularly interesting. It's a toxic one, certainly, but it doesn't feel like it used to in the best of ways.

----------------------------------------

“Cornered again,” Kat grins, one hand on the doorknob, the other already stretching its fingers as the scent of magic begins to fill the room. “What’s the count now? Fourteen times this semester?”

Christine, crouching halfway behind a wooden bench in the middle of the room, scowls. “Fifteen. Remember when we did the stupid Ratatouille reference?”

Kat snorts. “Oh, oh yeah. I wanted to see if you could control me by my hair!”

“They were too short...”

The musty gym office mingles with the magical aroma, now reeking of overripe fruit and old rubber. Equipment litters the floor: hula hoops, yoga balls, a whistle with distinctly canine bite marks. It was the perfect hideout. Private. Dusty. Blessedly ignored by Coach Callie, who didn’t even seem to realize she had an office.

“I’m not doing this again,” Christine warns, backing up toward a shelf of dodgeballs. “You put me in there freshly shaved last time. I got carpet burn on my entire body!”

Kat looks delighted. “And yet, you survived. Like a little trooper. Can’t you just be happy that someone wants you? Isn't that what people want? To be wanted?”

“I want a restraining order.”

Kat tilts her head, stepping forward. “Pfft. Yeah, that’ll stop me.”

Just then, the door slams open hard enough to knock a clipboard off the wall.

Enter: Haley.

“Step away from her, warlock,” Haley declares, standing tall in the doorway like she expects dramatic lighting and a soundtrack. “The days of your tyranny are numbered.”

Kat turns slowly, blinking. “You’re doing the voice again.”

Christine mutters, “Yay, she’s here.”

“I mean it this time, Katrina!” Haley says, pointing to Kat. “You’ve had Christine under your heel for long enough. Today, it ends.”

Kat blinks again, then points at herself. “Under my heel? Since when have I done foot stuff?”

“Figure of speech!” Haley snaps.

Kat glances at Christine. “You invited her? Another woman? What about us?”

“She followed me,” Christine sighs. “And look, I would like to see you get your smug little face handed to you, I just—”

“Don’t believe in her,” Kat offers, helpfully.

“No! I mean—sorta? You’re just... a lot, Haley. You’ve lost more showdowns than you’ve won, and every time you give one of your justice speeches, you end up right down here with the rest of us.”

Haley narrows her eyes. “I’ve been practicing.”

Kat mock-gasps. “Ooooh. Practicing your monologue? Or losing?”

Haley steps forward. “Neither. I’ve studied your moves. Your tricks. I know your range. You can’t lay a finger on me if I don’t let you.”

“Bold of you to assume I need fingers.”

There was a beat.

Christine looks concerned.

Kat smirks.

“I’m not like the others,” Haley continues, planting herself dead center like she expected a slow cinematic zoom. “I’m ready. I’m strong. I’ve got conviction. I know who I am.”

“Ooooh, I love that,” Kat says, clapping lightly. “Say it again. Really commit this time. Like, shout it. Sell me the origin story.”

Haley’s chest pufs up. “I KNOW WHO I AM!”

Kat steps in, hand raised, a sign no true sportsman can ignore. “YEAH! That’s the kind of fire I like! Bring it in, champ!”

Haley doesn't hesitate.

She high-fives her.

The smack echoes.

Christine’s jaw drops.

Haley freezes mid-celebration.

Kat’s smile goes full goblin.

“…oh no,” Haley whispers.

“Oh yes,” Kat replies, her fingers glowing against Haley’s palm.

----------------------------------------

All characters are the property of textingEdits. That said, I’m always thrilled to see engagement, fanart, or fanfic—just be cool and credit where it’s due!