Evil Never Sleeps… But Everyone Deserves a Break Sometime
Foreword: Good evening (Morning? Afternoon? Whatever) lovely readers! This is my official apology for taking so long to put out the next chapter of Blonde Roast – I'm in Copenhagen right now and I don't have any of the files that BR is saved on, so I'm releasing this one-shot as a temporary appeasement for all you guys. It stems from a couple things, mainly my interest in Roman's backstory, my love of villain dynamics and the lack of really good Gelato fluff kicking around on FF right now. So, here you go. Warning: this does contain a good deal of my own shitty brand of cynical relationship garbage, so be forewarned. That said; I hope you all enjoy.
Roman Torchwick was on top of the world. It was a Friday night, he'd just finished a successful robbery of Vale's sixth largest bank and was looking forward to enjoying a cigar while watching the White Fang unload all the lien he had just lifted. Looming over it all though was a feeling of irritation; the subtle knowledge that no matter what he did, she-who-would-not-be-named would still find fault in his work and find some other menial task for him to take on. After all, what was the point of having Vale's premier criminal mastermind rob the sixth largest bank in Vale when she had all manner of Faunus and pubescent muscle to do it instead?
All these thoughts swirled through his mind as he withdrew the cigar from inside his coat and lit it in a practiced manner, inhaling deeply and feeling the sweet burn of the tobacco as it coursed through his body. Exhaling, he smiled contentedly at the rush of euphoria as the sight of the White Fang slaving to load the heavy strongboxes.
He heard the clicking of heel and turned quickly, standing-to as Cinder made her way forward, flanked as always by her faithful companions Monotone and Wannabe. Roman widened his arms in a gesture of welcome as they approached, calling out:
"She appears! And she even brought the little scamps along with her; isn't that just adorable." Mercury rolled his eyes derisively and Emerald shot Roman a venomous glance before Cinder stepped forward past Roman and watched the White Fang loading the loot-filled strongboxes into several even larger crates. Roman watched her eyes for any hint and, finding none, he took the leap.
"So, uh, now that we've gotten the nasty business of robbing that bank out of the way, maybe you want to tell me why exactly you wanted me to steal six million lien from the kingdom?" He gave a quiet smile as he heard Emerald practically choke on the words six million and made a mental note to rub her nose in it later. Cinder merely regarded him with a cool stare, and when she spoke her words were dripping with their usual sickly-sweetness.
"Roman, you were told to rob the bank, not inquire as to why. For now, you can rest assured that I have my reasons and enjoy your night off." Roman disinterestedly tapped a bit of ash off the end of his stogie before stopping dead. He blinked several times and listened carefully to Cinder's response at his next question.
"Uh, I'm sorry. Did you say night off?" Cinder looked at him as though he were an idiot child, and if he had less sense than he did, Roman might have smacked her for it. As it was, he understood the consequences and merely waited for an answer from his infuriating employer.
"Yes, Roman, that is what I said. You've done a passable job on these last few errands I've given you and I'm giving you a chance to rest for a change. Don't waste it, and be back here tomorrow morning right on time. Other than that, I don't care." She turned to her protégés and spoke to them in the same flat, toxic tone. "You're free to go as well, but the same rule applies; be back here tomorrow and be ready to work."
Emerald responded with her usual "Yes ma'am," and Mercury nodded. As Cinder turned and reabsorbed herself in the working of the White Fang operatives loading the recently stolen lien, Roman picked up his cane and walked toward the door, still trying to wrap his head around Cinder's words. A night off? As in, a break from petty thievery and getting his plans fucked by little kids? It was a dream come true, yet Roman was still wary. He was never sure if he could trust Cinder, especially when she was being nice to him. He made a mental note to figure out what exactly had inspired this bout of goodwill and turned his thoughts to the rest of his evening.
As he pulled on his coat from the rack by the warehouse door he saw Mercury and Emerald talking. He was just thinking about getting some of his old buddies together (of course, he'd have to break them out of prison first) for a night on the town when a devilishly wonderful idea began to form in his mind. He gave a sly smile as he walked over to the pair of teenagers, interrupting whatever boring conversation they were having.
"Y'know kids, I'm not really sure if it's something you'd be interested in - I dunno, you should probably ask your parents permission first - but me and couple of the guys were thinking about getting together for a couple hands of poker tonight. Might not be your thing but hey, you claim to be thieves, and what thief can turn down a chance to make some lien?" He gave his best smile to the pair. Mercury regarded him suspiciously and his partner gave the ginger crime boss a look of pure loathing. Roman had phrased his invitation correctly though, and had succeeded in piquing at least the grey-clad criminal's interest.
"What kind of lien are we talking?" he asked and Emerald hissed his name, shooting him a look. Mercury merely held up a hand and blocked Emerald's face from his view. Roman shrugged.
"Buy-in is usually 100 lien, but you're more than welcome to throw in a bit extra if you're feeling lucky." He chuckled. "Or insecure. Either way, you know where to find me if you decide it's worth your oh so very valuable time." He turned and strode away, hearing the pair in heated discussion behind him and smiling to himself. With luck, both of them would show up and toss some money on the table. And as Roman had learned growing up, if you just leave your cash sitting out, someone's going to come along and take it.
Roman smiled as his eyes scanned over his cards. Some players would see this and tell Roman he had a bad pokerface. Truth is, that was Roman's pokerface. The cocky smile remained as he set his cards down and looked across the circular table sitting in the spacious kitchen of his apartment. Mercury eyed Roman carefully, his gaze drifting back and forth lazily between his hand and his opponent. He had a good pokerface too, Roman had to admit. It wasn't easy to stay rooted in the game when your partner was semi-consciously sobbing into your lap.
Roman and his buddies had set up the game for the three of them, but Roman insisted that two extra chairs be left at the table. When Mercury and Emerald had shown up, Roman's pals objected noisily to the idea of letting a couple kids drop into the game, but Roman had insisted, saying that they were friends, and he wasn't about to turn them (or more precisely, their money) away.
Just so, when Roman's buddies had pressed Emerald into taking two fingers of whiskey, Roman had merely sat back and watched the fireworks. What started out as a foolish teenage girl's attempt to impress had rapidly turned into something much more entertaining. Two drinks later she was raising the bid on a pair of sixes, and another one after that she was all in on two pairs. Now, half an hour later, she was reduced to a disheveled mess, crying drunkenly and clinging to Mercury like a drowning man clings to a life preserver.
Roman's friends had dropped out not long ago either, citing that they had things to do now that they were out on the streets again. Roman was certain he'd wake up and switch to the news, only to find numerous reports of robberies, bar fights and public indecency incidents.
He sighed contentedly at the thought of it and Mercury obviously thought Roman was showing a sign of emotion regarding the game. He smirked as he moved his cards back and forth in his hand. His earnings had dwindled throughout the course of the evening, but he wasn't about to sit down and let Roman take the pot. As Emerald gave into another series of racking sobs and went on at great lengths about someone named "Ren," Roman considered his hand and pushed his substantial earnings toward the center of the table.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Am I right, Mercury?" The silver-haired brawler gave Emerald's head a small pat before shoving her off his person and pushing his own winnings toward the center.
"What the hell?" Mercury asked of no one in particular. "I wasn't planning on sticking around much longer either. Might as well clean you out before I go." Roman gave an inward grin as Mercury showed his hand. The cards lined up, and any normal man would have sighed and resigned himself to defeat. "Straight flush," Mercury said almost disinterestedly, though his satisfaction was plain on his face. "Time to pay up, Torchwick."
"Ey ,hey, hey, c'mon kid. Have some respect for the suspense. After all," he said as he laid his own hand on the table. "Sometimes you just gotta let the chips land where they may." He smirked as he sat up and made a grandiose gesture at the result. "Royal flush." With that, he set about scraping all the bills and coins across the table toward himself, looking very much pleased. "Let me fill you in on a little something kiddos; you can be fat, thin, short, tall, deaf, blind, lame or..." he shot a hesitant glance toward the doorway to the next room where he knew Neo was watching action movies OnDemand, "Mute... but one thing that doesn't change is that you are never in a position that protects you from being taken advantage of." As he finished shoveling the winnings into a garbage bag he had on standby for that exact reason he stood, mock-bowed and gestured to the door.
"Now kindly get the hell out of my house."
A few minutes later it was done. The house was quiet, save for the muffled sounds of gunfire and explosions from the living room, and Roman feigned politeness as he waved to a retreating Emerald and Mercury - the former of whom was being half-carried by the latter, who himself promised Roman a rematch when the gangster agreed to play fair.
In your damn dreams, kid, Roman thought as he closed the door. He took the bottle of whiskey Emerald had used to ruin her evening (and likely her next morning as well) and poured himself a small glass before walking into the parlor, where Neo was reclined on the couch with a bowl of mint chip and Spruce Willis's greatest works. He sat beside her and kicked his feet up on the low table, sipping the alcohol slowly as he watched an explosion kill several dozen Vacuans at once. "Which one is this?" he asked in and in answer Neo held up two fingers on one hand. Several moments passed before the short woman finished her ice cream and set the bowl aside, rotating herself so she was lying lengthwise on the couch; he legs dangling over the armrest and her head resting in Roman's lap. Her eyes remained fixed on the movie, but she gave a small sigh of contentment as Roman removed his own hat and brushed a strand of white-blonde hair out of Neo's face.
They sat for several minutes before Neo switched off the movie and flipped onto her stomach, propping her head up on her elbows as she asked Roman a silent question.
"...?"
"Yeah, they all went home. And we're four hundred lien richer."
"..."
"I know, I know. Small potatoes. Nobody was feeling particularly adventurous tonight."
"...?"
"Of course I cheated! That mopey little punk probably did too. Nobody gets a hand like that - luck just doesn't work that way. Anyway," he said, removing his bowler and setting it on a side table, "Good Queen Bitchypants wants us back at that shithole of a warehouse at eight AM." Neo rolled her eyes in that adorable heterochromatic way she had and Roman couldn't help but smile. She responded in kind and Roman found himself downright beaming. He loved when she smiled. "It's not too late yet, we can still probably find some sort of better way to enjoy our evening..." He gave a sly grin and began to stand, before Neo's hand on his arm stopped him.
"..."
"What? Oh no... you're not seriously... Neo, why tonight? Of all nights? C'mon, when do you think we're next going to get a night off?"
"...!"
"I don't care if I gave my word! I'm a criminal, Neo, I lie for a living. Come on, Neo, it's been like two weeks!" He put every ounce of convincing into his voice that he could muster, to no avail. She sat on the couch and crossed her arms defensively, while simultaneously crossing her legs in a gesture that she didn't need to speak in order to communicate the meaning of. Roman sighed. "If I agree, do you promise that afterword we can find a better way to spend tonight?" Neo only shrugged and Roman sighed again.
"Fine, but I'm going to need more booze if I'm going to get through this." He stood and walked to the kitchen where he poured himself two more fingers of the rich, dark liquor before considering momentarily and adding another two. Better safe than sorry. As he returned to the couch he observed that Neo had shifted position once more, now sitting straight-backed and with her hands in her lap. Kind of like the shrink they had made Roman see during his first stint in prison - when he threatened to lynch a fellow inmate with a rope made from his own hair. "Don't look at me like that," he said as he found his seat and she pouted and shot him a glance that told him he was no fun before considering her first question. She gazed off into space for a long moment before snapping her finger in a moment of epiphany.
"...?"
Roman groaned internally. This was a question she had asked him repeatedly, for whatever reason, and he deliberately avoided answering. Some of the things that she wanted to know really scared him. Unfortunately, she wasn't going to let him go without answering.
"Well, my first was... actually a guy. He was older, though not by much. I admit I didn't really know what I was doing but once I got started everything just sort of... came to me."
"...?"
"Hey now, that's not fair. Not unless you're making that your second question."
"...!"
Roman ground his teeth. "You're lucky you're so damn cute," he said. "Fine. I used a bat. Nothing fancy; just a good old fashioned piece of wood. Did the job just fine. Hell of a mess, though." Neo smiled and clapped her hands giddily and Roman shook his head in amazement. "If you don't mind my asking, why do you want to know about the first person I killed?" She shrugged again, which Roman was starting to find both infuriating and slightly arousing. "Whatever. Next question."
She considered for a while longer and Roman took another drink of the peat whiskey while he waited. Finally, she continued silently. "...?"
This time he made his displeasure audible. "Oh come on, Neo, you know I don't like to talk about that stuff!"
"...!"
"Grr... Fine. But I swear to god, you owe me on a level you can't even begin to understand for this." He took another drink and a deep breath before answering, his voice quieter and more reserved than it usually was - or even than it had been a moment earlier. "I... I suppose I just never thought of doing anything else. I couldn't see myself as a Huntsman, though I certainly knew how to fight. I couldn't be a cop, not with some of the stuff I did when I was younger... so I set about making money off other people's work. I told myself - 'You're the best at what you do. People should be glad to have you taking their money and not some common punk.' And I believed it. I was the best there was, and I never let anyone get the better of me." He dropped his gaze and Neo shifted a little closer, her presence comforting somewhat, but not much. He continued, his voice tinged ever-so-slightly with melancholy.
"The more stores I held up and the more people I took out of my way, the more I came to be known. Soon enough there were cops out searching for me when they had no other pressing cases. I was on the news after every heist. It was great. The first time I got caught, I was out in four days. The second time it only took me two. I still don't get anything remotely resembling a high from any business other than holding up a shop, or making some deadbeat cough up what he owes." He smiled to himself and shot her a sideways glance. "Good enough?"
Neo nodded slowly and Roman smiled as he finished his drink. "So that's two questions down, what's your last one?"
"...?"
Roman cocked an eyebrow. "Clean up the kitchen? Why? Why not just do it in the morning?" Somewhat unsurprisingly, Neo shrugged and Roman rose, walking to the kitchen. "Alright then," he said over his shoulder. "But when I come back you're going to quit wasting time." He went to the kitchen, dropped his glass and several others from the kitchen table into the sink and stowed away the bottle of whiskey before returning to the living room. Once there, he found that Neo had vanished. He sighed and began searching through several rooms in the spacious apartments.
"Really Neo? We going to play this game now? I want to get this over with, can't you figure that out?" He rounded a corner and pushed open an ajar door to a sight that stopped him dead. Neo was sitting nearby, her hair undone and hanging loose down her back in tricolored splendor. She had removed her jewelry and boots, and was watching Roman intently. As he stepped into the room she stood and pressed herself close.
"So," he said. "You ready to ask me that third question?" In this case, Neo wasted no time deliberating.
"...?"
He smiled coyly. "Now that is a question that I have no issue answering." He leaned forward and kissed her for a long moment, and as he did so she shrugged her shoulders, sending her coat tumbling to the floor in a heap, and leaving Roman wondering how she had managed to get out of everything so quickly.
Roman and Neo lay for a long time afterwords, one curled up and sleeping soundly curled against the chest of the other. Roman turned his eyes to the petite woman who shared the evening with him. He had lied earlier in his story, when he told her that nothing gave him the same rush as pulling off a heist. She gave him that extra buzz that he craved. She was why he kept putting up with all of Cinder's ridiculous demands - her constant scheming and convoluted plans. She was why he stuck around, because if he just picked up and left, he wasn't sure that she'd be willing to go with him. She had stake here in Vale, and he couldn't take her away from that.
Because despite all his style, all his machismo, all his constant self-indulgence and all the morally abhorrent practices he allowed himself, he really did love her. It wasn't something he was used to feeling, and he wasn't sure he'd ever fully understand it or her. But for now, just being close and having her share moments like this with him was worth more than every lien in the kingdom.
And as his eyes roamed out the wide windows and scanned the glimmering skyline of a moonlit Vale, he found himself wishing - not for the first time - that Cinder gave him the night off more often.
AN - And that's that. Hope you guys enjoyed and I hope I didn't make it too awkward. I tried to be nice and fluffy while still maintaining the spirits of the characters. I will admit, this was one of the most difficult chapters I've ever written; not because it was especially long or difficult to write, but because I made the mistake of typing it in-browser and twice I backed out of the page and lost several thousand words, which had to be redone. In any case, I hope you all enjoyed. I promise to have a new chapter of "Blonde Roast" within the week - looking forward to getting back on track!
Happy Monday from Denmark, and thanks for reading!