Hello, RWBYverse! its been a while since ive written anything and as such i'll post this on my spare account, so if its terrible it doesn't reflect poorly on me. :D
Just a little fic that's been bouncing around my brain for a while and i've got a laptop again (Finally!) so i can spend some time writing.
Without futher ado, please enjoy!
_
Chapter 1:
A Rose By Any Other Name...
Weiss Schnee scrunched her nose at the smell of the place.
The odor was a cloyingly, sickly-sweet, like children's candy, but her current environment represented anything but. The dim, colored lights though were a godsend to her, keeping her porcelain skin and waist-length, waxen hair from drawing too many stares. It was poorly hidden anyway. Her off-centered ponytail hung stylishly behind her black trench coat, swaying alluringly with every step she took.
The gentle, rhythmic pounding of club music gave the establishment a calming air, even while the patrons whooped and hollered at the entertainment. With every step she took, Weiss felt her body sync its rhythm to the beat thrumming through the speakers. It was foreign and strange but calmingly familiar. If there was one aspect she didn't mind about this place, it would surely be the music.
She scoffed at the increasingly obvious glances the debaucherous patrons threw her way as the bouncer led her toward the back of the establishment. They passed table after table of scantily clad human and Faunus girls alike, serving drinks and shameless views of their natural assets to the groups of people- men and a few women, she noted- who paid handsomely for the services with bills shoved lecherously into any strip of fabric they could reach. A bare few of the showgirls might have caught her own eye had they presented themselves in a slightly less deplorable manner, but Weiss wasn't here for sightseeing or pleasure.
Not that she'd consider either activity in such an establishment. It was just… unsanitary.
The bouncer finally happened upon one of the private rooms in the back of the club and stood to the side, motioning for her to enter. She looked down at the greasy, metal fdoorknob, then looked up at the greasy, human doorknob ignoring it.
The Schnee cleared her throat and summoned as much disdain as she could before speaking.
"You don't seriously expect me to touch that, do you?"
His jaw shifted as he considered the cost of insubordination at this moment, but after a few seconds of deliberation, a long, burly limb reached out and opened the door for her.
"Thank you," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Let it never be said that she was impolite.
Inside, red light strobed across a small, circular room, with an expensive black leather couch ringing the perimeter. A man sat inside, just within view. He looked fairly young, but his eyes betrayed more years than his smooth skin and fair complexion implied. A full head of gray hair sat impeccably messily and he wore small, round, wire framed sunglasses and a crisp, black suit.
He placed the ornamental cane in his hands to the side at the sight of her and stood.
The flashing red lights were outdone by his smile, brilliant white somehow despite the hue of the rest of his club.
"Miss Schnee," he greeted her in a warm baritone, his voice every bit as impeccable as his attire. Immediately, she felt as if he could simply be trusted.
Immediately, she was on guard.
"Mister Ozpin," she replied with barely a nod. Her raised eyebrow was far more indicative of her current attitude toward his theatrics. They could have met anywhere, and while meeting in a more public venue was riskier, considering the topic at hand, she may have welcomed that danger to avoid...this.
She stepped inside, avoiding the circular table in the center and willfully ignoring the gold pole in the center of it, anchored securely to the low ceiling.
She sat across from Ozpin, crossing her legs at the knee as a lady should fzcc and fixing him with a withering stare. The door swung shut and she began.
"The last three months have showed little improvement. My father is quite unhappy."
Ozpin smiled, waiting patiently.
"No excuses then?" She prodded, not one to allow him to control the conversation.
"Obviously he's happy enough that he didn't come himself," he countered. "Little improvement and no improvement are worlds apart."
Weiss bristled at the slight. How dare he imply that her presence was less respected than her father's? He would pay for that.
"You're expected to increase distribution by three units this month. No less."
That was a lie. Her father had mandated two, but Ozpin didn't know that. The extra income would be credited to her and she would gain standing in his eyes.
"The usual quota is one," Ozpin protested smoothly. "Where does he think all that product is going?"
She smiled gently. Far too gently, he must have realized. "Into his rapidly expanding territory, you silly man. Or do you think he bankrolls that fighting academy for your thugs out of the kindness of his heart?"
If the insult fazed him in the slightest it didn't show. "That fighting academy for thugs exists to help push the White Fang out of Lord Schnee's territory if i'm not mistaken."
Weiss' eyes narrowed threateningly, and just before she could open her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought about his contribution to the ongoing war with their rival gang, he stood, clapping once and the door swung open.
"Miss Schnee, how could I have been so rude?" he asked, taking a tray of drinks from a serving girl walking by just out of Weiss' view and setting it on the table in front of her. "A drink for the lady? What do you prefer?"
For the second time in fifteen minutes, Weiss scrunched her nose, though this time, even the gaudily-perfumed air couldn't claim to be responsible. "I'd prefer to finish my business and leave your sad little establishment. But if you're looking for distractions, i'm sure you won't find any that will interest me here."
"Oh?" Ozpin's eyebrows rose. "That's terribly unfortunate. i do believe I'd enjoy some entertainment myself, however. He waved at the woman out of sight. "Glynda, if you could bring me one of the girls, please?"
There was a hushed word of confirmation before he closed the door again and sat, tapping his cane twice before laying it at his side.
"Miss Schnee, i'd be comfortable doubling our expansion to move twenty units a month, but forty? What your father asks is impossible. To open that much territory, we'd have to engage in open warfare with the White Fang, and i'm sure that's not what we're suggesting."
He let the statement hang in the air like a question, putting the ball squarely in her court. At that precise moment, the door opened and the requested showgirl stepped into the room.
Weiss' next response caught in the back of her throat.
The girl who'd just entered met her eye ever so briefly, sterling silver irises locking on hers and then glancing away, as if she was unsure she'd broken some sort of protocol. Her shoulder-length hair fell around her face, black as night near the roots and fading to a warm red hue by the time it hung past her chin.
Her skin was pale and smooth and unblemished and Weiss felt her stomach twirl at just how much of it there was. Her long, smooth legs were bare save for the red boots that came just halfway up her calf, far shorter than most in the establishment. Weiss' eyes hungrily took in the minimal strip of ruby red fabric wrapped around her waist. And the matching fabric just a bit further up her lithe, toned body...
She tore her eyes away from the red-haired beauty to fix Ozpin with a withering stare, but he was looking at her appraisingly before shoving his glasses back over his eyes with a finger.
The girl looked at Ozpin questioningly before he motioned at the pole in the center of the room. She nodded obediently and stepped up before wrapping her legs around it, slowly, in time to the gentle hum of the club's music.
Weiss leaned back slightly, careful not to come in too much contact with the couch's backrest and willed herself to ignore the beautiful redhead moving so alluringly just a few feet away from her.
"An excellent observation. War is bad for business. For you. We, on the other hand, supply half the weapons that come into Vale, so i'm not nearly as concerned with the implications on our end. I'm more concerned with the product that is so quickly filling our warehouses when our best dealer can't seem to sell any more. Perhaps we need to find a better 'best dealer.'"
"There have been reports of a pair of detectives snooping around the southwest quarter and sooner or later they'll stumble upon our product. Now, you can buy it from us and sell it at your own pace, sans warfare, if you like. How's that sound, Ozzy?"
The reason for the small sunglasses became clear now, as she couldn't properly read his expression. If she had to guess from his long pause, though, she would wager that she had made him sweat just a bit. "Miss Schnee if you're suggesting that i take on storage duties as well, then I will have to be compensated for the risks."
"Just storage of what you're expected to move," she replied smoothly. The air in the room was hot now, and the Schnee was sure it had nothing to do with the girl. Absolutely sure. She fought the urge to pull her coat from her shoulders. "You're not our only option, Ozpin. You'd do well to remember that."
He frowned slightly, knowing he was cornered before acquiescing. "I'll take on three units at a time and expand aggressively, but not that aggressively. Four is impossible."
Weiss' countenance dropped into stern disappointment. She was happy with the offer, but couldn't show it. It was already more than was expected of her. Her father sent her to move only two units, but she pushed anyway. "Four is required."
"Please," he said, standing. "Consider my offer. It looks better to Lord Schnee for…" he paused as he opened the door. "Both of us. In the meantime, i'll leave you to enjoy the entertainment."
She looked up in alarm, but he'd already stepped out, letting the door shut behind him. Weiss' eyes finally settled on the dancer who was now sliding down the pole slowly, almost gracefully, how is she making this look good in flat boots? Aren't they supposed to wear heels? she wondered as the girl abandoned the pole now, crawling across the table toward her on all fours.
The shy expression that she'd shown earlier was gone, replaced by a half-lidded seductiveness, those silver eyes like a tractor beam for Weiss' own icy blue.
The girl stepped off the table now, leaving her hands gripping its edge and simply reaching her long, supple legs past her shoulder to place those odd boots on the ground. Her tight abs scrunched appealingly as she did so and Weiss felt a fire stirring in the pit of her stomach.
"Well, what's your name then?" she asked, as coldly as she could muster, trying desperately to take control of the situation. She could only be glad that her impeccably bored expression hadn't already fallen away and betrayed sensitive information about her current heart-rate.
A tiny smirk appeared at the corner of the girl's mouth before it disappeared again, as if the answer she thought of amused her greatly. "Ruby," she breathed.
Weiss' face twisted into a mask of sarcasm. "Of course it is. What's your real name?"
The smirk returned, and with it, a little light flashed through those seductive eyes before dimming, but this time the smirk stayed.
Weiss heart beat a marching rhythm in her chest.
"Ruby," the girl repeated, obviously amused.
Weiss huffed at the non-answer before Ruby reached a hand out, touching her shoulder gently. Weiss flinched at the contact, but, for reasons that were beginning to escape her, didn't reach up to stop her.
Ruby's other hand found a home at Weiss' side and she stepped over the short distance between them, straddling weiss' still crossed legs.
The white-haired girl looked up at the dancer now, face swelling with enough heat and pressure to set off a volcano. Her hips began swaying back and forth, still keeping time as Ruby's fingers ghosted circles across the thin fabric of Weiss's shirt.
"Do you want me to keep going?" Ruby whispered, leaning closer and bringing the bright red of her bra closer to Weiss' nose. At this distance, Weiss could see the individual red sequins that gave the garment it's alluring, shimmery look.
"I… I should," Weiss stammered, composure now lost. On one hand, she had no idea when Ozpin would return, after assumedly, counting his books to make sure he wasn't getting himself into more than he could handle. On the other, a part of her that she didn't want to admit existed wanted nothing more that for Ruby to continue and never stop.
Ruby's smirk widened at the hesitation, now approaching unbearable levels of smugness.
Her hands left their warm positions on Weiss' body and reached up to her own shoulders, shrugging the straps off of them, one and then the other. The heat in Weiss' stomach became a full-blown emergency but, inexplicably, something in the heiress' expression told Ruby to continue.
It might have been the fact that she nodded her consent.
Ruby dipped her body low, pressing her bare chest against the warm leather of Weiss' coat. her hair fluttered in Weiss' vision as her cheek pressed against the redhead's. Hands grasped her own wrists as delicately as flowers, guiding them to the supple, pale skin of her entertainer's hips. "I think you're beautiful," the girl whispered seductively, her lips close enough to brush tantalizingly against Weiss' ear with every syllable.
A shudder ran through her body, and somewhere, in far corner of her mind, her logical self railed against the statement, swearing that was what she told every client of hers. But it held no sway here. The normally reserved, stately, impeccable Weiss Schnee was undone by this crimson beauty in a few slinky moves and sultry looks.
Ruby's body ground against her own for what felt like hours. Weiss' coat was thrown open and eventually discarded. It was just too hot.
Underneath, her impeccable white dress was scrunched upward as Ruby spread her legs and leaned her body down in between them, grinding against Weiss with her cheek pressed against the Heiress'. each hot, gasping breath tickling her bangs, and her arms reaching up to grasp at the long white ponytail at the back of her neck.
Finally the door opened and Weiss' hands shot guiltily to her sides from where they were kneading Ruby's chest. Ozpin stepped in with a wave of cool air and loud music trailing in his wake. An eyebrow rose as he took in the sight.
Weiss regarded him coolly, but made no motion to get up or stop Ruby's ministrations.
"I see you're enjoying the talent," he said as the door closed behind him.
Ruby jumped up, a surprising, fawnish innocence showing once again, and Weiss stood, straightening her dress, as the dancer very nearly scampered out of the room. Her eyes lingered as she watched her go.
"Three can be done," Ozpin ground out, obviously not happy with the terms he was agreeing to.
"You'll pay for the fourth, less warehousing fees," Weiss bit out, swinging her coat over her shoulders once again. "Final offer."
Ozpin hesitated, then agreed, nodding once. "I think we have an accord, then."
He stood there for a moment, expecting a handshake or some other acknowledgement of his existence.
He received none.
Weiss strode past him, grabbing the greasy, silver doorknob and throwing the door wide.
"Do not disappoint us," she bit out before striding confidently back the way she came.