The flight to Atlas was very long, but thankfully boring. After a half-hour of sulking, Junior moved up to sit in the cockpit, kicking the co-pilot out. Neo, smirking, strolled over to plop down in the seat beside Yang, who did her best to ignore the obnoxious woman, continuing to stare out the window. But the endless, unbroken expanse of sea left very little to distract her. Finally she shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at Neo.

Neo was simply watching her, looking vaguely amused. Seeing Yang's attention on her, her hands rose and made two signs - this time, ones that Yang actually recognized from class at Beacon. Signs for Huntresses to coordinate in situations where they couldn't speak. She pointed at Yang, then signaled Ready?

"Ready for what?" Yang sighed.

Neo motioned as if grabbing something off her outstretched hand, and moving it to her forehead.

"…learning?" Yang guessed.

Neo clapped an affirmative, though her eyes looked a bit sardonic.

"Fine. Not like we've got anything else to do."

More sarcastic applause. Yang rolled her eyes.

The lesson that followed was a bit halting, as Neo insisted Yang learn to make the signs herself in order to 'speak' the language, and refused to take out her Scroll, even when Yang got completely lost. There were some general rules to grammar that she managed to pick up because they mostly mirrored the world's common language, which Vacuo had invented and gifted to the world after the Great War. This must have been developed alongside, or at least modeled directly after Common. Atlas had given the Remnant the CCT; the capacity for inter-Kingdom communication. Vacuo had provided the the means to use it, and these days nearly everyone spoke some dialect of Common.

Learning a new way to communicate — and silently at that — definitely held some appeal, but a large part of Yang's frustration came from the fact that there were a good number of signs which called for two hands, and which she had to approximate as best she could. Neo was a patient, but demanding teacher, and while a part of Yang could objectively admit she had learned a good deal and would probably remember it, she also desperately wanted to strangle the tri-colored girl.

Finally Yang's frustration mounted, and she threw her arms up before making a single, very obvious, and very rude hand sign herself. Neo snorted, rolling her eyes, but seemed to allow for a break. She closed her eyes, still smirking slightly, and Yang went back to staring out the window.

Just like the night before, her anger flickered out as fast as it had come, and just left her feeling listless. Why was she even here?

…Because sitting around was getting unbearable, especially knowing that Ruby was going. While Yang couldn't go with her, couldn't drag down the remainder of JNPR, it also wasn't her nature to remain still. If Neo hadn't shown up, Yang would have liked to think, she would have gotten back on her feet soon, even if it was difficult. Dad had been pushing her for weeks, after all. As for Neo's method of intervention…well, she was determinedly not thinking about that, wasn't she? Heat tried to rise to her cheeks again, but she forced her mind to other things.

And now? She was miles away from where she'd been. "Hmph. Literally," she grumbled under her breath, still looking out the window.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of Neo's eyelids flick back open. With an effort, Yang looked back at her. "What's the plan in Atlas?"

Thankfully, Neo pulled out her Scroll, accepting that even with a few hours' crash course, Yang wouldn't be able to understand a complex explanation. Yang took a moment to adjust her Scroll's settings, so that it wouldn't vibrate for a new message while she was already looking at it.

— The little tantrum you forced out of Junior was both hilarious and useful.
— He only took sixty percent of the Dust, and I was expecting him to haggle much higher than that.
— So, I'd say you're entitled to at least ten percent of what's left.
— You can probably sell your share to Junior anyway, make a head start on saving for a prosthetic.

Yang frowned. "Twenty percent. I thought we were 'equal partners'."

Neo scoffed.

— Cute, but you had nothing to do with acquiring the product.
— But I'll make it 15 percent, because I'm just so nice.
— Say 'Thank you, Neo.' That looks like this.

Yang glared at her. She held her palm up to her lips, then extended it, a sign a little like blowing a kiss. Knowing Neo wouldn't let it go until she did it, Yang reluctantly did so.

"Yeah, thanks, whatever," she added. Neo snickered inaudibly. "What's your next move?"

— The Axe Gang is looking to set up shop in Atlas, you probably guessed.
— I've made it clear to Junior that I, and now we, will work WITH him, not FOR him.
— So we might be called on for muscle sometimes, but as freelancers.

"I'm not exactly down with armed robbery," Yang growled, real anger licking the edges of her apathy instead of impotent frustration.

— You really have no idea what the Axe Gang does, do you?

Yang shrugged. "I just pressed Junior for information sometimes," she admitted. "That's why I knew him. And then I wrecked his club and beat up all his goons. That's why they're afraid of me." One of the goons in question snarled in her direction, overhearing that. Yang glared right back at him, fanning her anger until she felt her eyes turn. The thug blinked first, and looked away.

— Funny, but maybe try playing nice.
— You ARE going to have to work with them sometime, most likely.
— Anyway, aside from information trading, the Axe Gang specializes in loansharking, migrant trafficking, and falsifying documentation.
— The club, which I expect he'll reestablish, is otherwise entirely aboveboard.

"And I care why?"

— Who knows, maybe he'll need a bouncer.

"And lodging?"

— Don't worry, I'll take care of that…Roomie.

Yang's lip curled for an instant as disdain flashed through her, the strongest thing she'd felt at all lately before it was gone. "I want my own room."

Neo pressed both hands to her chest, as if mortally offended, batting eyes suddenly full of crocodile tears as they alternated between pink and brown.

Yang just rolled her eyes.

— Hmph, you used to be fun. What happened to the wisecracks and puns, Little Dragon?

Anger still came easier than anything else, and Yang's hair instantly began to glow. "Never call me that again," Yang hissed.

Neo blinked, both eyes pink and apparently curious why that had elicited such a strong reaction, but after a moment she gave a short nod. Under the still-simmering rage, Yang was a bit surprised by the easy acquiescence, and waited for the other shoe to drop, but Neo again surprised her by changing the subject.

— We could probably stay in whatever place he finds for his workers, but that doesn't really appeal to me.
— Market value for the Dust we've got left, minus ten to twenty percent for the black market, minus another ten percent for Junior to sell it for us at a good price.
— Should be plenty for an apartment. It's Atlas, so it'll be small, but we'll fit.
— Well, I will, anyway.

Neo paused, giving Yang's frame an exaggerated glance. Yang stared back, unimpressed, though her Semblance continued to settle back down.

— I'm guessing you'll need some free weights too.
— That won't be THAT big an investment, and you'll need them anyway once you get the prosthetic, so it's not like it's a bad one.

"All right."

Apparently content with the silence, Neo closed her Scroll once more. She glanced out the window herself before shrugging and shutting her eyes once more. An instant later, there was a shimmer, and Neo vanished, appearing in the next seat over in an identical pose.

Yang blinked, looking from Neo's old location to the new. That…made no sense, and it hadn't made the same sound as her teleportation. Tentatively, she reached out for the apparently-empty space opposite her, where Neo's knee had just been. Her questing fingers met something that she couldn't see, and to her left, Neo's eyes opened, staring straight ahead, as if Yang was still in front of her, even as Yang turned to the Neo she could actually see.

"Why?" Yang asked curiously.

Neo held her wrists crossed at about shoulder level, fists closed, and moved both smoothly down. It looked a bit like she was handcuffed. So…bound? Attached?

"Habit?" Yang guessed, and Neo nodded, looking pleased. Yang supposed it made sense, from a paranoid point of view. Neo was a criminal after all, and a dangerous one — Uncle Qrow had always said that the biggest difference between a Huntress and a criminal wasn't the training, it was that one looked out for other people, not just herself. Yang glanced at Junior's men lounging around the front of the plane, each of them still occasionally shooting her mutinous looks. Well, Yang was something of a criminal herself now, she supposed. Best to get a head start on the paranoia. "Do me, too? Please?" She asked Neo aloud.

Neo waggled her eyebrows and licked her lips suggestively, and Yang realized what she'd just said. There was no point trying to deny it; Neo wouldn't let it go either way, so she just gestured at the empty seat to her own left. "Please?"

Huffing a little at not getting a reaction, Neo nodded, and a moment later Yang saw another of herself sitting in the seat in question. She looked her doppelganger over, eyes skittering away from her right arm. "You're better than a mirror." She glanced down. "I can still see myself, though?"

Buzz. Yang raised an eyebrow. The illusion of Neo's hands were empty, and had apparently gone back to sleep. So, it wasn't necessarily a copy of what Neo herself was doing. Frowning thoughtfully, she checked her Scroll.

— You can see yourself, but they can't.
— Being totally invisible is a great way to trip over things, trust me.

Collapsing the Scroll once more, Yang slipped it back into her pocket and repeated the 'thank you' gesture from earlier. She shut her eyes and leaned back in the seat. She still wasn't completely comfortable, but she hadn't slept much the previous night, and Neo had passed on much better opportunities to kill her, so despite herself Yang was starting to trust the tiny criminal. Certainly more than she trusted Junior, though that wasn't much of a milestone. Neo…was going to be her partner now. Yang's stomach twisted as that thought sank in, and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Atlas was all snow and glass.

At least, at first glance — a closer look showed there was a clear distinguishing line between the Hunting Academy dead center, the military compound which more or less surrounded it, and the city itself that radiated out from there. The high-rises to the South and West appeared to be residential, the former significantly older-looking than the latter. In the North the high-rises were instead taller and narrower, housing businesses and laboratories, while the East held broad, squat factories.

There was an enormous mansion on the Northern end of the West district, which would have been recognizable as Schnee's even if their company logo weren't plastered all over it, in various degrees of blatancy, ranging from tacky to gaudy. The emblems extended into the businesses and labs to the North district, marking which belonged explicitly to the Company rather than those controlled through subsidiaries.

The South district, where they were apparently headed, looked distinctly less wealthy than the West, though it wasn't exactly a slum. The people there were also overwhelmingly human, with a small, apparently segregated Faunus population bracketing the furthest East and South, the better to access the factories in the lower East and the mines that extended miles South, back toward the significantly-poorer former capital city, Mantle.

Junior apparently had his eye on a small high street in the far Southeast of the South district, separating the human-populated areas from the Faunus ones. There were several shops and businesses owned or run by Faunus, cheek-by-jowl beside human-run ones, and neither race was particularly surprised to see the other in that part of town — basically as 'integrated' as Atlas was capable of being. He was buying a location for his club in cash, and renting out an entire nearby apartment building to house his henchmen. From both locations, he would start to spread his little empire once more.

In theory, anyway. No doubt this was already the turf of some gang or another, so Yang had a feeling that things would probably start to get nasty after sundown. Then again, Junior's gang war wasn't really her problem.

Unless he paid her, she supposed, and then wondered if she should be concerned at how carelessly mercenary her thoughts seemed to have become. Whatever. For the moment she was sitting here for lack of anything better to do. Neo had disappeared almost as soon as they touched down, leaving a simple instruction that did not, in any way, make Yang want to punch her less.

— Play nice while I find an apartment.

Despite the ongoing glares from several of Junior's men, she had simply planted herself on a crate by the door, staring at the floor in front of her. After a single look of his own, Junior had called his gang back to order, having them knock out extraneous walls and lay the groundwork for the DJ's booth and the dance floor, as well as building shelves along the wall for the bar. As with Neo, he seemed willing to let bygones with Yang be bygones, albeit somewhat more hostile ones.

Yang's contemplation of the concrete floor was interrupted by a pair of feet stopping in front of her — this time not wearing cheap black dress shoes but what appeared to be steel-shod white high-heeled combat boots. One pointed toe tapped impatiently, and Yang slowly looked up, past the red-laced boots, past the ruffled white combat skirt that reminded her achingly of Weiss, to the far less-classy makeup job on the furious face of the girl in front of her. One of the twins Junior employed as his actual bouncers, for people who weren't intimidated by the rabble of henchmen. The other twin, dressed in red, was a few steps back, scowling but also looking a little reluctant.

"What?" Yang asked shortly.

The one in front of her tossed her long, dark hair angrily. "'What'?" she repeated. "Is that all you have to say?"

"What do you want?" Yang tried, but apparently a longer question wasn't what the enraged woman was looking for.

"How about, what the hell do you think you're doing here?" she screeched.

The twin in red winced at her tone, glancing at Junior, who didn't look up. "Melanie…" she tried, but her sister ignored her.

"You've got a lot of damn nerve coming anywhere near us after wrecking up our club twice, bitch," Melanie spat.

"Junior knows she's here-" her sister started to say, but Melanie cut her off.

"I don't care, Miltia! If you don't want to fight, fine, but I'm not letting this bimbo waltz back in here like nothing happened!" She gave Yang a scathing look, lingering on the knotted arm of her jacket. "I doubt she'll put up much of a challenge anymore," she added venomously.

A year ago, Yang wouldn't have let the insult go unanswered. Hell, she probably wouldn't have waited this long to start a fight. Now, all she could bring herself to do was raise an eyebrow. "You call me a bimbo, wearing that?" she asked, as scathingly as she could manage.

Miltia, who was admittedly wearing essentially the same thing in a different color scheme, scowled harder, green eyes narrowing with dislike. Melanie was a different matter, however. Yang's trained senses shouted at her to move, and she jerked away, but couldn't react fast enough to avoid the backhand from the armored bracer on Melanie's left arm. Yang managed not to fall, stumbling backwards off the crate and raising a hand to her throbbing lip. There was no blood thanks to her Aura, but a sucker punch wasn't much of a way to start a new working relationship.

But it was a certain way to kickstart Yang's Semblance. "Nice shot," she said, drawing herself up again as her body temperature started rising. "I'd give you a hand, but I don't have a spare anymore." She clenched her fingers hard enough to make her knuckles crack. "Wanna hear the sound of one hand clapping?"

Melanie's lip curled, and she charged. Miltia, meanwhile, looked willing to stay out of it, and Junior was waving at his henchmen to not interfere. So much the better, she wouldn't have to worry about being outnumbered. Yang pivoted to place her remaining arm toward her opponent, twisting her wrist to deploy Ember Celica. She was light on Dust, and definitely wouldn't be able to reload one-handed, so she was going to have to conserve a lot more than she was used to. Twelve shots; she had to make them count.

While Yang was strategizing on the ways she would have to fight differently, Melanie opened up much the same way as their last fight, charging into a flying dropkick to immediately bring the blades on her heels into play. Yang caught the attack on her gauntlet, the impact jarring her enough to raise her Semblance by another notch, and giving her the strength to shove Melanie back even with just one hand.

Melanie landed light and jumped again immediately, this time firing multiple kicks. Yang dodged the first two, and again caught the third on Ember Celica, using the force to spin on her heel and deliver a back-fisted strike to Melanie's chin, which snapped the girl's head back. Melanie dropped backward, planting a hand on the ground, and kicked out hard, catching Yang in the chest. Yang staggered, and felt her hair start to float as her Semblance kicked up even higher.

Despite everything, Yang was actually starting to enjoy herself, the adrenaline of a real challenge helping to burn away the apathy that had paralyzed her for so long. It was difficult, too, because she was so out of practice — and clearly Melanie had been preparing for this opportunity for a long time. Man…how long had it been since she'd had an honest to goodness fight?

Yang charged this time, not waiting for Melanie to right herself properly. Instead, Melanie kicked into a backward handspring, returning upright in time to chamber another kick aimed at Yang's throat. Skidding to a halt, Yang managed to pause just in time to let the blade miss. Melanie followed the motion through, grinding her heel on the floor before firing off three more kicks in rapid succession. Yang blocked with her knee, wrist, and knee again, before attempting to kick back. Melanie slipped around her easily, scoffing, and nailed Yang in the forehead.

Surprised, and Semblance finally nearing maximum capacity as her Aura started to genuinely drop, Yang arched her back to roll with the kick — and was struck with a moment of panic as she tried for an instinctive handspring like Melanie had done earlier, and realized halfway through that she wasn't going to land properly. She'd always been able to count on flipping and tumbling to redirect her momentum; it was an ingrained part of her style that was now all but useless.

She twisted desperately and managed to turn her landing into a sideways tumble, barely making it back to her feet before Melanie was on her again. The next few minutes were simple maneuvering, as neither of them landed a hit, both probing for an opening that they couldn't find. While Melanie had improved a lot — as she'd proved with that last hit — Yang had gotten much stronger at Beacon. She'd also fought Mercury, who was much more talented at using the same style, even if he was holding back. That made Melanie an ideal practice target for getting ready to take on the silver-haired jerk.

With that infuriating thought on top of her filled Semblance, Yang feinted a sweep kick, which Melanie fell for, jumping into the air. Aborting the motion, Yang rose into an uppercut, firing Ember Celica as it landed for maximum impact, not unlike she'd done to Miltia in their original fight. Melanie crumpled in midair, her intended recovery ruined. Yang jumped then, duplicating as best she could a spin kick Mercury had used on Coco. Melanie crashed to the ground, groaning, and Yang brought her heel crashing down…onto the floor right in front of Melanie's nose.

"Mel-!" Miltia started forward, her claws sliding into place, but stopped abruptly as Neo appeared in front of her, the bladed point of her weapon extending through the tip of her umbrella, held at Miltiades' throat.

"Girls, enough," Junior called sharply, and all the tension went out of both twins. Yang looked at Neo, who simply raised an eyebrow back, before retracting her umbrella's blade, planting the tip on the floor, and leaning on it, not unlike Roman used to do with his cane. Yang sighed, feeling her hair settling down, and reached down to offer a hand to Melanie.

Melanie, struggling to rise, froze and glared up at her distrustfully.

"Look, I'm not asking you to like me," Yang said shortly. "I'm not planning to apologize and I don't expect you to, either. But that was good practice, and believe it or not, I needed that fight. So…thank you."

Still scowling, Melanie accepted the hand up, though she didn't say anything. She stalked back over to Junior, Miltia falling into step behind her, though the latter glanced back at Yang. The usual hostile scowl seemed cut with something else. Curiosity?

Buzz.

Sighing again, Yang pulled out her Scroll.

— This is what you call playing nice?

"Up yours," Yang said easily. Neo tittered silently.

— I'm not even gone an hour before you're fighting someone else.
— Are you trying to make me jealous?

"Oh, I'll fight you, too," Yang growled.

Neo huffed another laugh.

— Not even five minutes and you're ready to go again?
— Maybe you should take both Snowy-White and Rosy-Red next time.

Unable to facepalm while still holding the Scroll, Yang threw her head back and exhaled hard through her nose.

— Why do I put up with a fun-killer like you?

"Why do I put up with an actual killer like you?" Yang shot back.

— Do I get under your skin that easily?
— Now that makes a girl feel special.

Taking a calming breath, Yang forced her voice to remain steady. "Did you find a place for us to stay or not?"

Neo collapsed her Scroll and just waved Yang to follow in answer. Yang glanced back once more as she left. Junior was gone from behind the soon-to-be bar, but both twins were still watching her carefully.

Yang left without meeting their eyes.

They only walked for a few minutes before paused, holding up her Scroll. Yang withdrew her own, and Neo held hers close, until they both beeped. Yang then tried the scanner of the brownstone in front of them, which chimed and unlocked.

Neo led her to a third-floor walkup, which opened at a swipe from the smaller girl's Scroll, and revealed a small, shabby, but furnished two-room apartment.

Yang made to shut the door, but Neo stopped her. Shrugging, Yang went to inspect the rest of the apartment. The common space was small, mostly taken up by the kitchen and a counter to eat at. A short hallway past it led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. A wide pantry in the kitchen hinted at an in-unit washer/dryer, which was more than she had expected, frankly.

She turned back to find one of Junior's suited goons in the doorway with a large brown-paper bag. "Here ya go, Miss Neo," he said, voice surprisingly soft. "It's prolly not very good, but we ain't had time ta open the kitchen yet. We will by nex' week an' we'll getcha better grub." He bowed.

Neo nodded, taking the bag, and waved merrily as the guy turned and left. She shut and locked the door before moving over to the counter, rapidly unpacking the bag to reveal a stack of takeout boxes. Curious, Yang opened a few, finding fried rice, lemon chicken, and wonton soup. None of it was amazing, but these were what Yang had grown up on whenever Summer hadn't felt like cooking and her dad had risen to the task. It clearly wasn't homemade and didn't look nearly as good, but the smell was close enough to bring the memories rushing back, and she had to shut her eyes to stop tears from welling up.

Reaching blindly for chopsticks, Yang opened her eyes again to find Neo had already broken a pair apart for her. Yang took them and started eating mechanically, propping her Scroll up in front of her.

— Can't wait until they get around to opening their own restaurant.
— Junior's standards are way higher than this.

Yang's eyebrows rose. "Junior runs restaurants too?"

— Best takeout in Vale. Formerly, anyway.

She blinked. "What the hell doesn't he do?"

— The Axe Gang is best known for odd jobs, but Junior tries to stay away from the kidnap, arson, murder trifecta. Too easy to trace.
— They've done a bit of racketeering in the past, but that's more his father's style.

"You know a lot about it," Yang said dully.

— Junior and Roman were pretty good friends.

Yang's lip curled. "As much as he could have friends."

Neo frowned.

— You think criminals can't have friends?

Yang paused. For the first time she'd ever seen, Neo actually looked angry. Not homicidal, but genuinely upset.

"I…didn't give it much thought," she admitted slowly. "He never made it seem like he cared about anyone or anything other than his image and his 'work'." Her fingers sketched quotation marks around the last word.

— Ah, so only you've dealt with circumstances outside your control.

Neo's 'tone' was biting even through text.

— You're not the only one who's lost family.
— Some people don't handle it even as well as your old man.
— Some people don't have a loving stepmother appear immediately.
— Some people don't have extended family to fall back on.
— Some people lose everything they have when a loved one dies, can't provide for who they care about, and end up on the wrong side of the law just trying to put food on the table.

Neo shut her scroll, crumpled her napkin, and went to put the leftovers in the fridge. Yang didn't move, watching her, but Neo's face was impassive again.

After cleaning up, Neo sat back down and began signing, which Yang could barely make out from the lessons hours ago. Practice every day.

Yang tiredly signaled, Affirmative.

Neo drilled her on handtalk for another half-hour before calling it a night, giving a huge fake yawn. Good. Finished. You, room, left, she signed, pointing with her chin toward the hallway, indicating the bedroom on the opposite side from the kitchen. Sleep well.

"As well as I can in a cold, strange bed on the other side of the world," Yang grumbled, but she nodded anyway as Neo slipped out of the kitchen and down the short hallway ahead of her.

The smaller girl strolled to what was presumably her own room, across the hall, and Yang couldn't help but realize that for the last few steps, Neo's walk had become more of a saunter, her petite hips swaying noticeably. She paused in the doorway to look over her shoulder at Yang, winking one pink eye and giving a sultry smile.

Yang slammed her door and threw herself into bed, pretending she couldn't hear Neo's huffing laughter.

A/N: (Bleh, posted the wrong doc. Sorry folks.)

Ugh. Most of this was done weeks ago but I just couldn't pull things together the way I wanted to. If the ending feels abrupt, it's because it was bloody hard to close out. The chapter as a whole feels underweight to me, but this is everything that needed to happen in the this chapter, so whatever. Writing is hard.

I think I've actually turned around on the idea of writing this as a Baked Alaska story. Which is to say, I think that I'm going to do so, now. The reason for changing my mind…is a secret. Ha. CuriousRavenclaw and I had a neat headcanon for Neo that I'm going to use in this story. Don't think I've seen it anywhere else, so as far as I know this will be unique.
I've edited the A/N for chapter one (sorry if you got an extra notification), just to remove the statement that it WON'T be Baked Alaska. The story itself hasn't been changed.

I also happen to be job-hunting (while still employed this time, fortunately), so if you know of any Technical Writing jobs in the Austin, TX area or that I can telecommute…let me know?

If you'd like to chat with me, you can pop into my Discord server at discord dot gg slash ABfg74C

Special thanks to my patrons Gade and Ran.