Lift Me Up
Yang fought the urge to yawn as she trudged up the stairs to the team's fourth floor dorm room. Her hair was still damp from her shower, bound back in a braid while it dried. Every few steps, the thick length would thud against her back, a slow monotonous beating that made her already sore muscles ache all the more.
Grunting as she hit the third floor landing, she let herself slump against the wall, thighs burning from the long workout and the walk back from the gym. Whoever designed school's exercise facilities had apparently never intended to actually use them, or if they did, had planned to eke out a solitary existence in the woods on the far side of campus. This genius, who Yang dearly wished to meet, had dumped the gym, the fight rings, the practice courts, and pretty much anything else that was even vaguely associated with training as far as physically possible from the dormitories. Which was all well and good – it did mean that stay shots or explosions weren't likely to bother or endanger the rest of the student body – but it made the walks back after a long night unbelievably grueling.
Growling some bestial mix of annoyance and stubbornness, Yang pushed herself off the wall, staggering over to the staircase and hauling herself up by the handrail. They really need to get a damn elevator in this building, she thought, jumping the last few steps and sighing when her feet met the landing. The blonde grinned as she opened the door into the hall, half-imagining that she could feel the soft carpet through her shoes, soft and welcoming after the unforgiving pavestones and concrete stairs.
The normally buzzing hallways, filled with the chatter of the dozen different teams that lived on their floor, were nearly silent. She wasn't surprised. Friday nights usually meant a mad dash into the city for some much-needed R&R, or, for the more studious, a head start on the piles of homework that would inevitably be due the following Monday. As the partiers and the academics split ranks, the dorms and the training rooms were left almost abandoned. That was what made this her favorite time to find a heavy bag and punch it till the seams popped. No boys peeking over at the resident blonde in her workout clothes, or well-meaning classmates offering to give her a moving target. It was time she had to herself, time to get out of her own head and just punch something until her hands hurt.
And now, now that she'd stretched, used, and tested every muscle she could think of, she was going to take advantage of her teammates' usual study session and fall right into bed.
The promise of a nice, relaxing nap was entrancing enough that her key was in her hand by the time she heard voices coming through the door. Already gripping the door handle, Yang froze, swearing under her breath. If the others had come home early ... well, it wasn't the end of the world. She'd survive without her cooldown time, and it would be nice to relax as a team for once.
She was about to open the door when something about the conversation made her pause. Something about it ... it just didn't sound right. It was too steady, constant, missing the patter of the others' banter or the staccato interruptions from her sister. Leaning in, Yang pressed her ear against the wood, holding her breath as she tried to hear the soft voice calling through the wood.
It wasn't conversation. It sounded like ...
Singing?
That was a first. With the variety of musical tastes between the four girls, they had long since settled on an earbuds-only policy. It just made sense – better to keep your music to yourself than bother three other people.
Her curiosity piqued, Yang edged her ear closer to the keyhole, straining to hear what was going on behind the thick-paneled door.
Was that ... she knew that song. Hadn't heard it in years, but she knew it. Pat Ben ... no. Belinda Carlisle.
That was it. That was what made it so odd. She knew the others' tastes. It couldn't be Ruby – after being subjected to years of it from Yang, the younger girl was deathly allergic to eighties' music, and Blake, for all she tried to hide it, was more into campy musicals and modern pop. Weiss was sixties, big band, mournful jazz. None of them were the type to blare eighties pop numbers in the room by themselves.
Biting her lip, Yang tried to make up her mind. But if she went in ...
Nah. Whichever one of them it is, they've earned their down time too. Might as well give them their space. Sighing, Yang straightened, cracking her neck and wondering if any of JNPR was around.
Then, just as the first verse began to swell, a second voice chimed in. It was clear as a bell, even through the door. A piercing alto that froze her in her steps
"And you lift me up, in wave of lo-ove."
That voice ... she knew that voice.
Grinning as widely and lovingly as a tomcat gazing at a particularly juicy mouse, Yang slowly turned her key in the lock, moving as quiet as possible as she eased the door open. The singing grew louder the second the opened the door, a soft chorus line backed by the strum of an electric guitar. Layered atop the whole thing, almost drowning out the former Go-Go's singer, was a higher-pitched voice Yang knew only too well, practically belting the words in time with the music.
There, in the middle of the room, stood Weiss Schnee. The girl was still in her uniform, jacket and vest hung neatly from the bunk-bed she shared with Ruby, waiting to be placed delicately back into the section of the closet that the heiress had quite clearly marked as 'hers.' Yang had a feeling they might be waiting a while, because at the moment, the heir to one of the richer conglomerates in all Vytal was crooning dated hits into the upturned handle of her hairbrush.
Doing everything she could to not burst out laughing, Yang slipped into the room and closed the door behind her, thanking her lucky stars that Weiss was facing the window and too absorbed in her impromptu performance to notice the sudden arrival of an audience. Tears tickled at the corners of her eyes, her chest jumping every so often from the strain of keeping her giggling in check. She had to be quiet. Especially since this wasn't the kind of thing she got to see on a daily basis.
Something she'd kill me for thinking, Yang stifled another laugh as Weiss bopped up and down to the music. Still, it'd be absolutely worth it. Seeing Weiss this relaxed, enjoying herself without any trace of the mask she normally wore ...
She was just so cute.
Weiss threw herself into the song as it approached the chorus, pitch rising as she hit the bridge. "Baby I was afraid befo-ore. But I'm not afraid, any-yaaah!" Weiss shrieked as she turned mid-song, jumping nearly a foot at the sight of the taller blonde leaning back against the doorframe.
"Hey."
Weiss stood frozen in the center of the room, hairbrush still gripped in one hand, her eyes wide with shock as a blush started to creep up her face. Coughing, she straightened, her hand ghosting over the desk in what was probably intended as a subtle gesture to stop the song still playing on her scroll.
"... hi," she said, once the music stopped.
"So," Yang choked out, teeth grinding to keep from doing the one thing Weiss would never forgive: laughing. "Carlisle, huh?"
"I ... suppose," Weiss said, glancing briefly down at her scroll to check the artist entry. "I thought ... well, music sounded like a fairly safe conversation topic, so I asked Blake if I could borrow some of her CDs."
Yang nodded, glancing at the pile of disks on the desk as she stepped away from the wall. Made sense. "That's not a bad idea, actually."
"Yes, thank you so much for the seal of approval," Weiss glowered up at the tall blonde, arms crossed over her chest. "You could have knocked."
"Maybe. You made one fatal mistake, though."
"And what is that supposed to be?"
Yang lost the fight to keep from smiling, beaming down as she stood toe-to-toe with the angry little heiress. "That's not Blake's music."
Weiss' eyes narrowed in suspicion, before her head whipped over to stare at the hand-written label on the case. "But-"
"Homemade mix 'tape?' Huey Lewis? Springfield, Benatar, Hall 'n Oates?" The expression on Weiss' face was more than enough of an answer. "It's mine. Musta gotten mixed in with Blake's collection. Serves me right for using an outdated medium."
"It's not like she keeps a set of vinyl ... h-hey," Weiss objected as Yang slid her arms around her, one moving to rest at the small of her back, the other climbing up to rest against her shoulder. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Well, it's been a while since I listened to the song, but I'm pretty sure 'pull me close' and 'start to woo' were in there somewhere."
Weiss' glare darkened, but from the flush in her cheeks and the way her arms slowly undid themselves, Yang figured she was on the right track. "You're an ass," she growled, arms reluctantly wrapping around Yang's waist as the blonde began to sway. "And it's 'move,' not 'woo.'"
"You're adorable, and I like my version better," Yang said, tensing just a little – an invitation – and Weiss stepped forward, bringing the two of them together. "It's nice seeing you relaxed and enjoying yourself."
"I'm usually relaxed."
"Sure. 'Relaxed' ... as a board. Or a steel pole. Or-"
The scowl leveled at Yang made it quite clear how this would go if she kept talking. Grinning, she pulled Weiss a little closer, pausing only to tap the scroll and pull up one of the slower, crooning songs from her playlist.
"Shutting up now."
"That would be a good idea."
Yang leaned in, only for Weiss to meet her halfway, pressing up on her toes until their lips met.
Ruby and Blake came in a few minutes later, only to find Yang lying on her bed, smirking at her scroll while a grumpy-looking Weiss hung up her clothes. Grey and gold eyes flashed between the pair, and Yang couldn't help but suspect the other half of the team knew more than they were letting on.
"Hey," said Ruby, as the next song popped up on the playlist. "Is that Belinda Carlisle?"
Yang had never seen Weiss' face go quite that red.
Writer's Note: So, after RTX and Comiket, I am officially back. I'll be getting to work on the bigger projects as soon as I can, but this was something that came to mind and I wanted to get done.
Anyway, please shoot me a review if you have the time, and thanks to everyone who talked to me at RTX!
