A/N: Day 3 of Freezerburn week. I may write a second part to this that is nsfw but for now it's teen rated.
Yang.
The smooth tones of a saxophone playing a slow jazz number filtered out of the front doors of the club and into the gloomy street.
Yang stood under an orange streetlight, taking drag from her cigarette before she had to attend to business. She pushed the smoke out of her mouth and watched it dissipate into the biting night air that tingled her nose. The first drops of evening rain were beginning so she stubbed the cigarette out with the bottom of her polished shoe and warmed her hands in her pockets as she crossed the street.
She entered the club and was hit with the heat of the room; the smells of lingering smoke and strong alcohol that, if anything, made her feel at ease. The band were finishing up a number as she loosened the orange scarf around her neck and undid the buttons of her brown overcoat.
Yang approached the bar, nodded to the man behind it and he turned to get her the usual. She thanked him when the glass was presented to her and she took a swig of the amber liquid. It burned down her throat and lit a fire in her belly that reminded her of what she came to do tonight.
The bartender nodded his head towards the private rooms located to the right of the bar and she got the hint.
Yang entered the room, set aside for her by the club's owner, and sat at the round table. She took another swig of her drink but didn't have to wait long.
"M-miss Xiao Long?" The boy with the mop of blonde hair that was often waiting tables stumbled as he entered the room.
"That's me, kid." Yang looked him up and down. "What d'ya want?"
"He's here." The boy swallowed at her gaze and fidgeted with his hands.
"Then send him in, please." Yang removed her hat. "Oh, and bring me another of these will ya?" She lifted her nearly empty glass.
He nodded. "Of course."
Her next visitor was a lot broader than her first and had pushed back, bronze hair underneath his fedora.
Yang smiled. "Hey there, buddy." She struck a match and lit another cigarette, leaning back as she waved her hand at the chair opposite. "Well. Aren't you gonna sit down?"
His eyes narrowed. "Ok. We're not exactly 'buddies'." Nevertheless, he pulled out the chair opposite.
"Then what are we, Winchester?"
"I don't know." He shifted around. "Probably the reason I get myself killed."
Yang let out a harsh laugh. "You got yourself up shit creek way before I met you." She smiled wider at his grimace and took another drag of her cigarette before talking around the smoke. "So, let's get down to business."
"I still don't know if I can trust you."
Yang sat back. "You can't. You shouldn't. There's only two things I'd ever trust in this world and that's a good whisky and my only sister, but you haven't got much choice, have you?"
"No." Winchester glared at her from across the table.
"So, tell me, where's Roman's newest hideout?"
Winchester's gaze fell to his feet. "Why would I know that?"
Yang sat up straighter. "You do understand that our relationship functions because you're my double agent, my eyes on the inside, right?"
"I didn't sign up for this." Winchester's eyes flicked to the side. "I think he's onto me."
"You signed up for this when I caught you." Yang leaned across the table. "Do you need reminding about what happened that night?" She raised an eyebrow.
Winchester looked at Yang's knuckles. "I just don't think he trusts me anymore."
Yang threw her head back and let out a sigh. "For once I just wanted to have a conversation with a contact and have it as a nice chat over drinks. Is that so much to ask? Why do you guys always wanna do things the hard way?" She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the knuckle dusters she kept on her person for such occasions as this. "Do we really have to do this?"
"No. We don't." Winchester smirked and pulled a revolver out of his jacket.
"Well. I guess it's a stalemate."
"Hardly. You brought your fists to a gun fight."
Yang stared down the gun barrel and felt her heart pace quicken.
Winchester's outstretched arm trembled and Yang watched a bead of sweat form at his temple.
The door was pushed open. "Here's your drink ma'am-" the waiter's eyes widened and he dropped the tray that was carrying Yang's drink. "That's a gun."
"Very clever." Yang muttered before she launched herself across the table, punching Winchester's wrist in the process.
The gun clattered against the wood table top.
Yang shoved it to the floor and hit Winchester with an uppercut that made him hiss when his head was forcefully thrown back. He flailed his limbs to stop Yang and connected with a lucky hit to her ribs that took the breath straight out of her lungs. Her eyes watered but Yang hit his face again, busting his nose in the process.
Blood spurted over them.
Winchester roared out and sprung up from the chair, shoving her into the unfortunate table which creaked in protest.
Yang was balancing herself when he caught her in the face. "Shit." She tasted the blood even before her lip began to thrum in pain. "You're gonna be very sorry for that." She kicked him against the crimson wallpaper and aimed a punch for his solar plexus. Yang smirked when his eyes bulged and he had to hold himself up against the wall.
"Stop!" The waiter drew both their attentions as he shakily held the gun out in front of him. "That's enough. Let's call the cops."
Yang wiped a hand over her bloody lip. "I am the law around here, kid."
"I'm not a kid."
"Sure. What's your name then?"
"Jaune."
Yang showed him her police badge. "Give the station a ring and get a couple of them to come pick this lowlife up, Jaune."
He nodded and upon seeing her outstretched, blood-covered hand he gave her the gun.
When he was gone Yang sent Winchester a glare. "You're gonna regret pulling this on me." She looked at the carpet where the glass that had contained her drink lay like a fallen saint. "And you're gonna regret wasting my whisky."
Yang had watched Winchester get taken to the station before going to the bathroom. She suspected the reason she often chose to meet people at this particular club was due to appear soon and she swore at her reflection in the mirror when she caught sight of her busted lip and the specs of blood that littered her pressed white shirt. At least the fabric of her fitted suit was a dark colour and the red tie, a gift from her sister, was unscathed.
She washed her face off and let the cool water cover her bruised knuckles a moment before she heard the club manager using the onstage microphone through the bathroom door. "Our beloved singer, Weiss Schnee, is performing next folks. You're in for a treat, believe me."
Yang returned to the bustle of the main room and found a seat in a corner, taking a replacement drink with her since Jaune dropped her last one.
There was muttering around the room as the band were setting up but there was silence when Weiss Schnee waltzed onto the stage. There always was. Even before you were willingly trapped by her velvet voice, you were captivated by her grace, her beautiful sky-blue gown, and those eyes. Yang had never seen a pair of eyes she wanted so much to fall into, to leave the grimy city behind and descend into a world of pure blue.
Yang watched and listened with all the attentions of a devout worshipper, and, whether the songs were upbeat, or slow and sultry she loved them all the same when coming out of Weiss' pink lips.
During a slower song that was about a dangerous love affair, that was primarily piano and Weiss' voice, Yang was certain blue eyes were trained on her for a few, brilliant, seconds.
Weiss' performance was too short for Yang's liking but she applauded with vigour and stayed a couple of hours longer, enjoying a drink with some guys she knew from her time training for the police.
The club was near to closing when Yang decided to leave. She made her goodbyes and walked out onto the street, using her hat to shield herself from the drizzle.
She'd only made it a block when a stranger seemed to appear from nowhere and crash into her.
They came off worse, however, as they let out an indignant, notably feminine sounding, screech and fell to the floor.
"You should watch where you're going, princess." Yang was one drink past being polite to people who bump into her but she moved forwards and offered out a hand to the hooded stranger.
"And so should you! You're a hazard to everyone's health being built like a brick wall." They ignored Yang's hand and lifted themselves off the concrete.
Yang squinted through the rain but was sure she could make out a gentle pointed chin and blue eyes under the hood. "Do I know you from somewhere?" She took a step closer and ducked down so she could see the shorter person's face better.
"I doubt that. I don't usually make acquaintances with insensitive, drunk people."
Yang frowned. "No need to be mean." She peered closer. "Wait. You- You're- You're Weiss Schnee?"
Weiss pulled the hood back a little, to show her features. "And what's that to you?"
"Well. You're- you are the best singer I've ever heard," Yang blurted out.
Weiss' eyes went wider at that. "Thank you."
"I'm sorry you got hurt." Yang rubbed at the back of her neck. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Weiss brushed her coat down. "Now that you mention it I do recognise you from the club."
"You do?"
"Yes." Weiss' eyes moved to the puddle beneath them. "I asked about you actually. I was told you're a detective?"
"You did?" Yang's eyebrows met her hairline. "Yes I am. Detective Yang Xiao Long, working hard to protect the citizens of Vale."
"Well." Weiss smirked. "You're not doing a very good job of protecting me when you're walking into me, are you?"
"Hey, I said I'm working hard, not that I'm any good at it." They laughed together until Yang noticed Weiss let out a shiver. "You want me to walk you home?"
Weiss paused a moment before looking her up and down. "I don't usually accept invitations from people with blood stained shirts but I suppose I could make an exception."
"You won't regret it." Yang offered her arm out and Weiss took it.
Weiss.
Weiss tightened her ponytail as she faced herself in the mirror of her dressing room. She reapplied her lipstick until there was a knock at the door.
"Enter."
"Good evening, Miss Schnee. You told me to let you know if the detective came back. She's here tonight. Just a little later than usual." Jaune said all this with just his head stuck around the door. Most of the staff knew better than to act too comfortably in Weiss' dressing room.
"Thank you." She turned back to the mirror. She waited a moment before realising that Jaune hadn't left. "Is there something else?"
"I was. Um. I was uh just wondering if you would like to-"
"I'm going to stop you there." Weiss stood from her chair and grabbed her purse. "I've got my eye on someone, Jaune. That person is not you. My good friend Pyrrha Nikos, however, would love to go on whatever date you were just about to ask me on."
"Pyrrha?" He gave her a confused look. "Sure." He raised his eyebrows but closed the door.
Weiss waited a few minutes then waltzed out of her dressing room and back into the club atmosphere. She nodded at a few customers, who complimented her performance, then spotted gold hair by the bar.
She leaned against the bar. "It's nice to see you again."
Yang gave her a smile. "The pleasure is all mine." She removed her hat and placed it on the bar. "Will you let me buy you a drink?"
"You should let me- I get them on the house."
"I can't say no to that."
Weiss caught the bartender's eye. "Could I have a Sidecar please and a drink for the detective."
"I'm sure you can guess what I want."
"Of course, Miss Schnee, Detective." He nodded to them both in greeting.
"I'm sorry I missed your performance tonight," Yang said.
"As am I." Weiss cast her eyes up Yang's form. "You have blood on your shirt. Why do you always have blood on you?" She reached out a hand to prod at the red stain on Yang's shirt, just to the right of her navy and silver paisley tie. "That's not going to come out easily."
"One perk of always getting blood on me is that I also know how to get it out of clothes."
"I'm not sure I'd call that a perk." Weiss moved her hand to adjust Yang's tie. "So, what was it this time?"
"Nothing much. Just chased down a thief." Yang puffed out her chest and then thanked the bartender when he poured out their drinks.
Weiss sipped her cocktail and pulled a cigarette out of her purse.
Yang took some matches out of her coat pocket. "Allow me." She lit a match and moved it up to Weiss' lips, lighting the cigarette for her before lighting her own. "I have to say, there's something about you Miss Schnee."
"Yes?" Weiss took a drawn out drag and met Yang's eyes.
"Yes. I hope it's not too forward of me but I find that the moment you walk into a room I can't take my eyes off you."
Weiss laughed. "I'm not sure if that's forward enough for my liking." She moved closer to Yang.
"I see." Yang smirked and knocked back the rest of her drink. "Your place or mine?"
"Definitely my place." Weiss stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray. "Meet me where you bumped into me the other night." She placed a hand on Yang's forearm. "And make sure you're not followed."
"I do love a mystery."
Weiss gave the detective one last glance, through her eyelashes, and focused on walking away with a sway to her hips.