Inspired by the story Grand Theft RWBY.

Grand Theft RWBY was an interesting idea but I personally didn't like the execution. The motive for Weiss, Yang and Ruby's life of crime is pretty awful, it's like they're criminals because it's fun or something. Weiss and Ruby's initial relationship was also awful - love at first sight? Really? Also, as a bit of a gun nut and a Tom Clancy fan I cringe whenever anyone calls a gun a "sniper" or an "advanced SMG" - please use real gun names; you're not going to get sued by Remington or Heckler and Koch. There will be gracious amounts of gun and technology porn.

Regardless, it was still fun to read and unless you're more anal than me (and that is saying something) you'll still enjoy it.

I've using a mix of the 3D (GTA3, Vice City and San Andreas) and HD (GTA IV, GTA V) worlds in this.

This is a world merging crossover. It's basically GTA with large chunks of RWBY imported in and modified. Faunus, White Fang, Schnee Dust Company, Beacon are just some examples that have been brought in and in some cases tweaked massively. There will be both RWBY and GTA character in this.

Oh yea, this will be White Rose. It probably won't be Bumblebee; lesbians are great and all but if you have them everywhere it begins to feel a bit silly.

RWBY: A Liberty City Story

Chapter One

Thirteen Months in a Cage

"Prisoner One-Zero-Four-Four-Three, Ruby Rose," stated the butch looking prison guard. "Your time is up."

This wasn't unexpected; she had been counting the days to her release since she got here. Thirteen months in Medium Security at the San Andreas Young Women's Correctional Facility in Red County serving out a sentence for Felon Firearms Possession. The sentence had been light for the crime and she was incredibly lucky that the detective – who she was certain knew she had done much much worse – couldn't find any substantial evidence to support his theory. He certainly had enough evidence to obtain a warrant for the dingy apartment she and her sister Yang had shared.

She was young, innocent looking and could play the card of naivety quite well – mostly because it was true. It also helped that she wasn't a faunus or black either. She had managed to twist her statements enough that the guns didn't look like they were hers; after all, why would an innocent sixteen year old girl like her willingly have enough guns to fight a small war stashed in the back of her wardrobe? The looks she had been going for at her sisters suggestion was that someone had coerced her into hold them on their behalf and she was too scared to name names. It worked.

Though more difficult than her short stint in Juvenile Hall a few years back, San Andreas Young Women's Correctional Facility was a cakewalk compared to the horror stories of the male prison service. However, that wasn't to say that there wasn't fights or violence, quite the contrary actually; fights could happen for completely asinine reasons and the girls inside held grudges for a very long time.

Only sixteen and one of the youngest in the prison, Ruby had been quick to seek protection under one of the older women; a nineteen year old Clara Ferguson. Ferguson was a burly bear-faunus woman who was ruthless and was one of the most influential and powerful women in the prison despite several others styling themselves as queens of their own little fiefdoms. Ferguson had quickly come to a liking for innocent looking Ruby and quickly offered her a… job of sorts.

The bear-faunus wasn't really Ruby's type and she felt like she was whoring herself out but the older girl at least showered daily and it meant Ruby had to do very little dirty work – dirty work that could see a few months or even years tacked onto her sentence – for the protection offered. It was an easier prison life than most even if it wasn't exactly how she wanted her first time.

When Ferguson had found out that Ruby would be out in only a few weeks she had told Ruby that once she too was out she would have some work for her. That however wasn't something she wanted to pursue if she could avoid it so she simply nodded in agreement all while making a mental note to never follow it up; she would just being going where Yang goes and Yang would probably try to kill Ferguson if she found out what sort of work Ruby had done for her.

Yang had visited Ruby in prison not long after she was sentenced and told her that she was heading to Liberty City on the opposite side of the country with a friend to look for work because of the heat on her in San Andreas. Ruby didn't know what had happened to get Yang on someone's shit-list but it must have been pretty serious for her to leave so suddenly. Yang promised she would be back in San Andreas on the day of her release before giving Ruby her friend's phone number in case something happened.

She was no fool and knew full well why Yang gave her a spare contact number. The thought was the most difficult part of being locked up in the San Andreas Young Women's Correctional Facility and unable to help.

"Ditching us, Ruby? Don't like living here?" called one of the girls mockingly from her cell.

"Wasn't your owner feeding you enough you fucking dyke bitch?" called another woman.

"Too rough for you, little girl?"

Ruby rolled her eyes at the disgruntled inmate who still have time left as she was escorted to the two layered security doors and onto the processing station; it was pretty hard for those insults to bring her down seeing as she was being released and they were not. Releases happened in the mornings before anyone was let out of their cells; both to stop other inmates from disrupting the proceedings and to save the prison the cost of feeding a prisoner breakfast.

As she reached the processing station she had passed through thirteen months earlier another guard with a scowl pushed a plastic box through the opening in the station window which contained everything she had on hand when they had sentenced her. Rose crinkled her nose in distaste at what she had worn during the trial; a pale pink sundress in an attempt to pass off her supposed innocence towards the jury. She briefly considered asking if she could wear her prison jumpsuit out instead when the guard ordered her to hurry up.

With no modesty left intact from her thirteen months, Ruby simply dropped the orange jumpsuit to the floor and threw the dress over her head before handing over the jumpsuit and filling up the handbag Yang had given her to carry her wallet and phone in during the trial.

"Can I go now?" she asked impatiently.

The guard in the processing station just rolled her eyes before pushing the button to open the door to the outside world. A loud electric sounding buzzer went off and the door audibly clanked before Ruby pushed it open, tasting freedom for the first time in over a year. The guard who had escorted her from her cell followed a few paces behind her as she made her way to the front sliding gate topped with razor wire. Her followed gave a nod to the guard in charge of watching the gate who pushed another button which opened the sliding gate just enough for her to walk through, only the find the visitors car park deserted and no sister in sight.

o0o0o0o

Ruby desperately hopedy that Yang was simply late as she waited in the visitor's parking lot. Failing to turn on her phone and call her sister, she eventually gave up and assumed she had mistakenly left it on when she had handed it over to the prison guard over a year previous leaving the battery as dead as a famous painter.

Half an hour passed with no arrivals (sisterly or other) and Ruby decided to track down a pay phone – if any still existed in this world of cell phones. She was sure Yang would be here unless something had happened to her and the thought gave her an edge of worry; could the people she was running from caught up with her? If she had been there would Yang have been alright? If Yang was dead she was sure that the prison guards would have notified her as Yang's closest living relative… though that was dependent on the law actually following their own rules for once. It was a horrifying thought.

Slowly Ruby began her trek along the long remote road to where she remembered a small town to be. The walk gave her far too much time to worry over Yang's possible fate, fear beginning to take a hold of her, her elation at being free long gone. A long hour it was under the hot San Andreas sun with no water by the time she reached the small town where she tiredly went to look for a payphone.

"No coins," she mumbled as she pulled a tenner from her wallet having found the town's only payphone luckily wasn't dilapidated.

Looking around she spotted a run-down looking convenience store. Entering to ask the teller if she could get some change she stopped when she noticed something.

"Ohhh!" exclaimed Ruby as she spotted her first cookie in more than a year.

It wasn't a freshly made cookie like she might find in a nice café or a home-made cookie found in a little family coffee shop, but rather one in a sealed plastic packet for sale at the counter. Still, regardless of its potential staleness, she wanted it, and it would let her use the phone when she broke up the ten dollar bill she had.

The sour-looking middle-aged woman behind the counter didn't share Ruby's enthusiasm or lust filled gaze for the sugary white chocolate and macadamia goodness contained within as she handed over the note. The counter lady just grunted when Ruby asked for some coins for the payphone before ripping open the packet and heading back towards the payphone.

The cookie didn't last the trip across the street and, with the distraction gone, her worries returned with full force. Nervously she fished the crumpled piece of paper with Yang's friend's number on it, placed a few coins into the payphone and began to dial the number.

o0o0o0o

"We should have shotguns for this kind of deal."

Blake Belladonna gave her best – and arguably only – friend a look of incredulousness as she pulled on the handbrake and turned off the car in the alley behind the premises in Schottler, Broker they would be visiting today.

"Quoting movies now?" she asked Yang Xiao Long dryly before adding in an undertone; "At least it wasn't a pun."

"What?" Yang exclaimed. "But puns are pun!"

Blake closed her eyes and visibly cringed at her friend's awful wordplay.

"And for that matter you do have a shotgun," said Blake, dragging the conversation back onto the job at hand.

Yang loudly gasped as she held her hand to her chest.

"You're right!" said Yang with poorly concealed false surprise before adding in an equally convincing tone of concern; "You don't, though."

Blake rolled her eyes as she opened the door, Yang following suit, unconsciously pulling her hoodie down to conceal the handgun on the belt on her waist, and went around to the trunk of the blue sedan they had borrowed from one of their mooks for the job.

"Well, not all of us are freakishly tall and can hide a shotgun under their breasts and a duster," replied Blake as she and Yang both pulled out a pair of leather gloves that matched the colour of their clothes from their pockets and donned them before Blake pushed the keys into the lock and popped open the trunk.

"Hey, what can I say? I was born lucky I guess," replied Yang.

Inside the trunk was a dark blue sports bag which Yang leaned over and unzipped, revealing the aforementioned shotgun and a suppressed MAC-11 sub-machine gun. Yang and Blake both looked up quickly at the reveal and checked for any nosy busy-bodies who might call the cops if they saw the two young women carrying a number of not-so-legal weapons.

Satisfied that no one was around, Yang pulled the MAC-11 out of the bag along with a magazine and handed both to Blake who took the gun; confidently pulling the top-mounted charging handle to the rear and inserting a magazine. Satisfied the gun was ready to go at a moment's notice, she unzipped the black hoodie she was wearing revealing her usual black and white, and a one-point loop sling. Clipping the sub-machine gun to the sling she zipped the hoodie back up, hiding the weapon from view.

In a similar process, Yang removed her Russian-made Saiga 12 magazine-fed shotgun from the bag before gripping the vertical fore grip firmly and pulling open the action before slipping a single red 12-gauge buckshot round into the weapon. With a round chambered she fished a five-round magazine from the sports bag and rocked it in the weapon with an audible click before hiding the much larger gun under her brown leather duster from its sling. Yang had specially modified the normally several feet long shotgun for her own purposes by cutting the barrel down to ten inches and fitting a side-folding stock on the rear end.

Now armed, Blake pulled out two thin long magazines for her MAC-11 and dropped them into the front pocket of her hoodie before pulling out two of the shorter and stubbier magazines of the Saiga and handing them the Yang who dropped them into the pocket of her duster.

"Good to go?" asked Yang.

Blake nodded.

Cautiously, they exited the alley and walked up the street past the identical looking terraced homes – only differentiated by the various bits of junk dumped outside – before coming to a halt outside of a three-story house from which they could hear Jamaican stoner music being played inside.

"One-hundred and twelve?" confirmed Yang quietly.

"That's it," replied Blake with a nod.

With another quick look up and down the street, the pair pushed open the black cast iron gate whose screech was thankfully drowned out by the stoner music and walked past the dead looking fridge and washing machine before going up the steps to the door. With a nod, the pair reached under their jackets and took a firm grip on their weapons so they could be ready at a moment's notice, before Yang banged on the door loudly three times and the pair stood off to the sides of the door – it wouldn't be good to start their day by getting shot through the front door.

"Stupid fucker probably can't hear us over the music," muttered Yang after a good thirty seconds before banging on the door again, this time louder.

Another thirty seconds and no answer, Yang turned to Blake and asked; "Did you bring your picks?"

"Of course," replied Blake with a tone of obviousness. "Never leave the house without them."

However, instead of pulling them from wherever she had stowed them, Blake reached for the door handle, turned it and pushed open the door; showing the door was unlocked.

"See, easy," she added before trying to push the door open and finding the locking chain was in place, stopping the door from opening more than a few inches.

With a sigh, Blake moved aside and took a glance around the street again. Yang gave a soft chuckle before she shouldered the door forcefully, ripping the chain from the doorframe with a crack of splintering wood. With no one in immediate sight, both stepped into the entrance hall and closed the door behind, hiding any obvious damage done before undoing their respective outerwear and hefting up their respective weapons to the ready position.

The music was much louder inside and the smell of stale weed was all pervasive in the dimly lit home. The owner clearly valued his privacy given every window on this floor was covered with heavy curtains, leaving the only light coming from a thin strip where it peeked through the gap between the curtains and the wall.

"See a light switch anywhere?" asked Yang over the music as she flipped open the side folding stock of her shotgun, hoping Blake's better night vision given her faunus heritage would help find the switches in the darkened hallway.

Without answering, Blake moved over to the side of the entrance hall and turned on all the switches, illuminating the entire floor before retracting the wireframe stock on her MAC-11.

"I see the place hasn't gotten any nicer," commented Blake as she surveyed the stained carpet and the pot plants that could be better described as pots of soil in the hallway.

"Oh yeah – what a dump," said Yang with a hint of disgust.

Without another word, the pair made their way down the hall and peeked into the first room weapons up revealing a deserted lounge room occupied by an old TV and a stained sofa. Moving on the found the combined dining room and kitchen. Dirty dishes covered every free surface of the kitchen and a good portion of the dining table, making it difficult to discern the dirty washing from the leftover breakfast. At the centre of the table was a monument to three-pack-a-day smokers everywhere; an overflowing one gallon jar filled to the brim with ash and cigarette butts.

"I mean, messy is one thing, but this is just disgusting," commented Yang as Blake crinkled her nose in disgust.

"Let's find Blunty, do what we need to do, and get out of here," said Blake.

"Aye-aye to that," replied Yang unenthusiastically. "Next floor?"

Blake nodded as they swept the stairs, looking out for anyone that might feel the need to spring an ambush on them as they climbed up. Back to back they climbed the stairs; Yang taking point while Blake watched the stair's railing, taking care not to trip.

The music on the second floor was louder as they got closer to the source. Each room looked like they were supposed to be bedrooms except one was filled with junk and they couldn't get the door open enough to actually enter. The other looked like a smoking den equipped with several large bongs, a few pipes and a hooka almost as tall as Blake. The bathroom at one end of the floor was also 'clean' – in the tactical sense that is.

Again, the pair repeated their trek up the stairs; covering each other with their weapons up just in case Blunty chose to end their business dealings with gunfire and bloodshed. Blunty however, hadn't seemed to have noticed their trespass upon his property. He was either high, couldn't hear their break-in over the noise, or – most likely – both.

"Pretty sure he's in the master bedroom," said Yang as she looked to the closed door that was the source of the music.

Blake nodded in agreement. It was best to be sure however.

"Clear the other rooms first so we don't have anyone sneaking up on us," she decided after a few moments of consideration.

Like the floor below, the bedrooms seemed to be unused and in a dilapidated condition or filled with drug paraphernalia like bongs and a few small bags of weed, and the carpet was littered with rips and stains – none of which Yang or Blake wanted to know the source of. The bathroom on this floor was actually in a serviceable condition however and didn't make anyone people present want to vomit.

Satisfied every room on the floor bar the master bedroom was clear the pair cautiously approached the door of loud music, Blake in front.

Raising her sub-machine gun with one hand and twisting the doorhandle with her other, Blake pushed open the door quickly and moved into the room with Yang hot on her tail. Weapons up and ready for a fight both slumped slightly at the sight seen through the thick clouds of strong smelling smoke of Blunty stark naked on his king-sized bed – dreads and all other hairs visible, bong in hand and getting rather intimate with two equally naked women.

Blunty and his two friends didn't seem to notice Yang and Blake's arrival in their marijuana induced daze. Instead, his two female friends started giggling before leaning over and kissing each other to Blunty's happy exclamation.

Blake sighed and glanced at an equally unhappy Yang; trying to get the thirty grand owed off a very high stoner was going to be frustratingly tedious. The Jamaican drug dealer probably wouldn't even realise how much shit he was in nor how serious the pair were about getting their due even with their big, threatening and lethal guns.

Blake was broken out of her musings by a crash and the silence of the music going dead; Yang had shoved the amplifier off of its table forcefully where it had crashed to the ground. The amplifier let out a cloud of acrid black smoke as it gave its last breath before the cloud vanished into the many times larger cloud of pot smoke; this got Blunty's attention.

"Aww, Yang! Not cool, babe! Not cool!" he exclaimed as he got up off his bed of giggling girls and let his glory swing free.

Blunty approached the pair of gun-hands armed only with a bong, looking relatively serene despite Yang's recent destruction of his sound-system.

"Why not have a cone and chillax? No need for destruction!" he suggested despite a twelve gauge muzzle staring him in the face. "You can join me and the girls."

Yeah, neither of them wanted to deal with someone who's high. This was going to be a difficult morning.

Not having much patience to begin with, Yang snatched the offered bong out of the naked man's hands and threw it to the other side of the room. The bong shattered into many little pieces as it hit the floor and the putrid bong water added to the many stains already present on the carpet.

"Not cool, babe!" he exclaimed as he stared wistfully at the remains of his bong. "It's not cool to trash a man's piece."

Yang rolled her eyes without care as his companions joined in with his admonishment of Yang's destructive tenancies. Blake could see Yang was quickly loosing all patience with the man before she suddenly lashed out with her fist and hit Blunty square in the nose causing the stoner to give a muffled nasally scream as he covered his rapidly bloodening nose with his hands.

Blunty's companions looked that they wanted to retaliate against Yang through their stoned haze but they seemed to have come to the realisation that Blake and Yang were not going to be messing around as Yang kicked Blunty in the knee and grabbed one of his arms causing him to fall forward with a yelp before Yang started dragging him by the arm out the room.

Blake had a good idea what Yang had in mind and decided to get rid of Blunty's two companions quickly.

"I think you should leave," said Blake as she gestured to the door with the muzzle of her sub-machine gun.

Both girls – one with her hands up – nodded and quickly threw on their clothes, every so often looking back at the heavily armed Blake. Neither really seemed to know what to do once they were dressed and stood awkwardly, glancing at each other every so often before Blake sighed impatiently and gestured to the door again. Getting the hint both made for the door fast as Blake trailed along down the flights of stairs and too the front door.

Blake was confident neither girl would go to the cops as getting your client in trouble with the law – not to mention themselves for prostitution – never sat well. If they did anyway for some reason they would be rather easy to track down in the community, something they would know about.

Returning up-stairs, Blake could hear the sounds of the shower running from the bathroom. Entering she found Yang at the sink washing her knuckles, and Blunty curled up like a baby and cradling his nose as he lay under a cold shower.

At the sound of the door opening Yang looked up and gave a small gleeful smirk in Blake's direction off the mirror. It was a bit unusual for the pair to be doing the 'groundwork' now they were off the ground financially as they left debt collection to the mooks, but thirty grand was no amount to sniff at necessitating Yang and Blake's involvement. Already unhappy with being on debt duty, the job was made worse by Blunty himself.

"Do you think he's sobered up enough?" asked Blake curiously.

"Nah, let him cool off for a bit longer," replied Yang with a smile.

Blake just rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Yang, unsure if that was supposed to be another terrible pun or not.

"Well, I'm going to take a look around," said Blake after several minutes of near silence, broken only by sound being the occasional groan from Blunty.

Yang gave a few nods.

"Well, if you find the stuff, holler."

Blake nodded before lazily wandering out the bathroom and down the corridor back to the master bedroom. Yang just leant against the bathroom wall, smiling with vindictiveness as the broken naked man sat under the shower. Blunty's dreads had probably never been this clean.

o0o0o0o

Wrinkling her nose in disgust at the obvious sticky damp spots on the king-sized bed, Blake crouched down so she could see under the bed searching for their owed property. There was a good few kilos of weed in pressed vacuum packed blocks, an aging and pitted shotgun, a gold-plated revolver, several sex toys of varying sizes and colours, but no kilo of high-quality cocaine or an equivalent-value large pile of cash. Quietly sighing she got up off the floor and made a mental note to double wash her black jeans.

Moving towards one of the dressers in the room she pulled the top draw out and dumped its contents on floor before shuffling through it with her foot for the goods. Kicking what could be best described as pimp clothes out the way she repeated the process with the next draw down. Before she could however move onto the third she was interrupted by a vibration on her thigh; someone was trying to call her cell.

Pulling out the phone, she glanced at the caller ID expecting someone was calling her about the job, possibly the mook whose car they had borrowed asking when he would get it back. Instead however the caller ID said Payphone – SA. There weren't many people from San Andreas she particularly wanted to speak too she noted with a small frown. Still, it wouldn't hurt to pick up and it's not like her many enemies could do anything to her over the phone – she might even get some forewarning if someone was coming for her blood.

With a slight amount of reluctance she swiped her gloved finger across the little green phone symbol and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Um – hello?" asked the female voice on the other end of the line. "Is anyone there?"

Blake paused for several seconds before replying.

"It's generally considered polite to give your name first."

"Oh – um, I was told to ring this number if I couldn't get ahold of Yang," nervously said the girl who sounded younger and younger by the word.

Blake paused again before carefully wording her question.

"And what is your relationship with this Yang?" she relied neutrally.

"Oh – uh… she's my sister."

Though the girl couldn't see her, Blake's eyes went wide at those words as everything quickly clicked together.

"Oh..." replied Blake simply as she made for time as she remembered Yang's sister's name. "Ruby, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's me; Ruby Rose," she replied before continuing very quickly. "Is Yang there? I really need to speak to her. Do you know how to contact her? I'm using a payphone but I don't have much cash left."

"Yea, just give me a second to get her."

Blake exited the bedroom and headed back towards to bathroom where the sounds of the shower could still be heard.

"Found it?" asked Yang.

Blake shook her head and held out the phone.

"It's your sister."

Yang went wide eyed at that statement before swearing loudly.

"Fuck."

Like it? Hate it? Please tell me why so I can make it better. Positive and negative comments that don't say what you liked/hated will be ignored.

All stoners harmed in this fanfiction recovered in 4 to 6 months.

AN1:

Thanks to OneirosTheWriter over on the Dark Lord Potter forums for the spelling and grammar corrections.