A Mop and a Badge

"One little duck, walking all alone. No clue the big bad wolf was behind them. Or the sheriff with the shiny boots and itchy fingers just around the corner. Heh. Guess that makes me the—what? The weird aunt. The one who shows up with bombs instead of birthday cakes. "

She snorted quietly, pressed against a curved rooftop vent. Below, Y/N stepped out into the streets of Piltover, their bag bumping against their hip. Normal. Oblivious. Adorable.

Jinx moved before the moment could turn soft. She slid down a pipe, vanished into an alley, and cut across a market before anyone could recognize the flash of blue hair. An enforcer patrol passed—too close—but her grin never faltered. She ducked beneath a fruit cart, slipped under tarps, and used the crowd to her advantage.

Caitlyn was two blocks behind, stalking forward like a hound on a scent. Focused. Predictable. She hadn't looked up once.

"Tunnel vision," Jinx whispered. "That's gonna get you in trouble, huntress. "

From shadow to shadow, she weaved through the city—eyes locked on Y/N's shape in the distance, ears twitching for Caitlyn's steady bootfalls. It was a game now. A sick, thrilling one.

"Let's see who gets there first."

She slinked across rooftops like a shadow with a giggle—swift, precise, barely making a sound above the hum of Piltover's heartbeat. Down below, the chase played out like a scene from her favorite storybook. Y/N, just out of reach. Caitlyn, narrowing the distance with that self-righteous stride of hers.

Jinx sprawled across a cold steel beam, chin propped in her hand as she watched. Not far ahead, Caitlyn stopped at the edge of a rooftop, her rifle slung forward, scope raised.

"Oooh, big girl brought her toys," Jinx muttered, smirking.

Caitlyn scanned the alleys below, completely unaware of the manic eyes fixed on her from barely twenty feet away. Her finger rested against the trigger, steady, patient.

Jinx reached into her coat and pulled out the wind-up monkey, copper wire still holding the defaced flyer to its chest. Caitlyn's face stared out—all smug and scribbled on, with devil horns, a blacked-out tooth, and the words "Buy Her a Coffee (Before She Arrests You)" scrawled across her badge.

Jinx sat up, letting her legs dangle, and held the monkey up like a puppet.

"Well look who it is," she said in a singsong voice. "Miss High-and-Mighty Sheriff. Thinks she's sooo special, just 'cause she can pull a trigger and squint real hard."

She wiggled the monkey's arms, making it mockingly clap. "Oooh, look at me, I enforce the law and drink my justice brew like a big strong girl!"

She wound the key and let the toy jitter in her palm, mechanical claps sounding off like a tiny tantrum.

"Yay! Go Caitlyn! You wiped another one of my tags off the wall! Again!"

Her smile twisted, wild and annoyed. "Seriously—do you know how long it takes to paint a rocket-powered snail riding a griffin with rainbow puke?! Hours. Hours! And the next morning? Gone. Just scrubbed away like it never existed! Ughhh!"

She groaned into the sky, flopping dramatically back on the steel beam.

"It's like I sneeze chaos and she's right behind me with a mop and a badge."

She bolted upright again, shaking the monkey like it might give her better answers.

"You like her, huh? Bet you do. Bet everyone does. She's got that smug smile and her dumb scope and her clean stupid boots."

The monkey whirred in mock applause.

"Don't clap for her!"

She clutched the toy to her chest, glaring at it like it betrayed her. "You're supposed to be my sidekick. Not her fan club."

Below, Y/N's figure flickered past another alley.

Jinx softened—just a little.

"They're different, you know. Y/N actually listens. Or... at least doesn't shove me off a rooftop on sight. That's a start."

She sighed and tucked the monkey away again, giving it one last pat on the head.

"Don't worry. This game? I'm winning."

Jinx lifted her own hand, shaped her fingers into a pistol, and pointed it right at the back of Caitlyn's head. Thumb raised.

"Bang," she whispered, mouth curling into a grin.

"Pow."

Her thumb dropped. Nothing happened—except the thrill racing through her bones.

She slid off the beam like a ghost, slipping behind ductwork and chimneys, always one step ahead, always watching both of them.

This wasn't about the kill. Not yet. This was a game. And she was winning.

By the time Caitlyn turned away, continuing her hunt down the next rooftop, Jinx had already dropped two levels, eyes pinned to the alley where Y/N had vanished.

"Mine," she hummed, and leapt.

She beat them both.

Y/N turned into a narrow lane, a quiet corner tucked between dead walls and forgotten crates—and stopped.

Jinx dropped down silently, catching herself with a hand on the railing. Their eyes met. And for just a second, time folded in half.

"Gotcha," she mouthed.

---

Earlier.. Zaun..

The hideout was dim, lit by flickering neon tubes and the soft sputter of a half-broken lamp. Y/N lay curled on the battered couch, breathing steady now, safe—for the moment.

Jinx crouched at her workbench, tongue poking from the corner of her mouth as she tweaked the tiny gears of a wind-up monkey. The toy clinked and clicked with each adjustment, its limbs jerking to life.

"There we go, little guy. Now you've got purpose," she cooed, twisting the key until it squealed.

She snatched a worn flyer off the bench—a public service ad plastered all over Piltover. Caitlyn's face stared out, proud and polished, holding a steaming mug of coffee in one hand. The original slogan read: "Strong Brew, Stronger Justice."

Jinx snorted.

A permanent marker clattered against the desk. In one chaotic breath, she drew devil horns on Caitlyn's head, blacked out a tooth, and scribbled over the text.

"Buy Her a Coffee (Before She Arrests You)"

Then she stuck the cutout to the monkey's chest with a strip of copper wire, giving it a half-tilted look of mocking obedience.

She wound it once more, let it dance across the table with mechanical claps and a tinny whirr.

"That's my girl," Jinx whispered.

W

hen jinx finished fiddling with the toy, Y/n decided to go back up to the city. Jinx stared at her back with a pout-then a mischievous grin-and decided to follow.

---

EXTRA

The wall was old. Cracked. Half-buried in alley shadow. But the poster still clung to it, stubborn in that official Piltover way.

"A Mop and a Badge"—bold serif letters, weathered but proud. Caitlyn's image stood tall beside the text, rifle slung, chin raised, all noble angles and steel-eyed certainty.

Jinx stared up at it, chewing the end of her glove.

"Blegh," she muttered. "Who writes this stuff?"

She stepped closer, dragging the edge of her sleeve across the bottom of the title until "A Mop" smeared into a blur of black ink and dirt. Another swipe took out "and a Badge." Then another finishing the slogan off "Keep the City Clean From Sticky Garbage and Crime"

Gone.

She shook her can of airpaint. The rattling ball inside sang like mischief.

With a press and a hiss, a new title bloomed across the ruined space—dripping, neon pink, crooked on purpose:

THE GUM UNDER THE BADGE

She stepped back, tilted her head, admired the mess with a proud little nod.

"There. Much better."

And just beneath it, she doodled a tiny blue-haired figure clinging to Caitlyn's badge with a grin. A speech bubble bubbled out beside it:

"Sticky Enough Yet, Cupcake?"

Jinx tossed the empty can over her shoulder and vanished into the dark.

---

Later that night...

Caitlyn stood in the alley, the dim light of her flashlight sweeping across crumbling bricks and scattered trash. Her rifle was slung across her back. Wait, no.

A mop.

She sighed, the sound long and soul-weary, as her gaze landed on the wall.

The poster. Or what was left of it.

Her jaw clenched as she read the vandalized title now smeared in neon pink:

"THE GUM UNDER THE BADGE"

And below it—

The crude little doodle.

The figure with familiar blue pigtails.

Grinning.

Clinging to her badge.

"Sticky Enough Yet, Cupcake?"

Caitlyn closed her eyes for a beat.

"Of course it's her," she muttered.

She planted the mop head against the wall, gave it a half-hearted scrub. The paint smeared, streaking the pink into a chaotic mess of drips.

Didn't even budge.

Caitlyn leaned the mop against the wall, took a slow step back, and let out a breath through her nose.

A tired sigh escaped her mouth.

"She's getting bolder."

She looked up at the ruined poster again, her hand brushing over the badge still faintly visible in the image.

"You really don't know when to quit, do you, Jinx?"

The mop thunked as she picked it up again, this time resting it on her shoulder like a weapon.

"Fine. Let's play."

She turned and walked off into the dark, boots echoing down the alley, mop slung like a rifle.