And the next chapter of Captain Dragon.

Chapter 7

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down."

"Rarghhh!"

The middle-aged man failed to heed her instructions, though to be fair, that wasn't his fault. His face was flushed and sweating and his eyes were dilated, all clear signs of Fang running through his system. Had he been in his right mind, he might have been a danger – for he was a Huntsman at least ten years older than her. Fortunately, Fang didn't leave much in the way of intelligence, and he hadn't even drawn his weapon, instead closing with hands outstretched to rip and tear.

"Ugh, I'm sorry about this," Yang said. She ducked to the left, deflecting one arm with hers as she slipped under and around the man's back. A quick stomp to the back of the knee brought him down, and she pressed a knee to his throat, trying to choke him unto unconsciousness. His arms flailed for her face, but she kept them away with her one hand. "This'll be safer for you," she whispered, trying futilely to calm him down. "You'll be knocked out without any nasty bruises, and you'll be right as rain when you wake up."

Better than using her weapon on him, which would cut out huge chunks of aura, and even cause permanent injury if she wasn't careful. Still, the sounds of the poor guy gasping for breath weren't exactly pleasant. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to ignore it, breathing a sigh of relief and moving her leg away when he went still. A quick check showed a steady pulse and signs of breathing.

"Thank goodness," she breathed. Her voice rose as she turned to the side. "I've got this one. How are you doing, Roman?"

"Fore!" Roman yelled, swinging his cane like a club as it crashed into the side of the huntress' face. She fell like a sack of rocks.

"ROMAN!"

"What? She's got aura." The reformed thief kicked the woman's ribs to check she was still alive, and the muffled groan suggested it.

"Gentle!" Yang hissed, stomping up and poking him in the breastbone. "How many times do I have to tell you these people didn't ask to be like this?"

"Eh, you know me." He rapped the side of his skull and stuck his tongue out. "I'm so airheaded."

She wanted to knock him out, but that would only give him the excuse to pull out of work for a day or two, and she didn't like the idea of being on the beat alone. With a defeated sigh, she threw her arm in the air and stomped over to the regular police officers, who were clustered around a squad car nearby. Close enough to help if needed, but not enough to be caught in any crossfire they might cause.

"The two are down," she said, jerking a thumb backwards. "Do you lot know how to deal with them?"

"We got the briefing," one said, sounding nervous and inexperienced. "We take them to the nearest hospital, right? If they wake up, we ask them some questions to see if they're rational, but insist they see a doctor before they're dismissed."

Yang nodded and fought back a yawn. They'd been running back and forth across Vale all day, and she couldn't wait for Mercury and Junior to take over their shift. The VSS didn't have the staff to cover the whole city at once, and there was no telling when someone might get infected. They'd needed to spread shifts out to cover the city for all 24 hours, which meant eight hour shifts of solid call-outs for each duo. She was exhausted.

Still, the officers looked nervous, so she tried for her best smile. "That's right. As far as I've heard, everyone who wakes up has a killer headache, but no traces of aggression left in them. They'll be totally safe now, so you guys needn't worry."

"And what about him?" one of the older ones asked, nodding behind her. She followed his gaze.

"You mean Roman?" She laughed when the man nodded. "He's fine," she said, honestly a little surprised to find that she was being honest. That wasn't because she'd gained any faith in him, of course, but more than she'd learned some of his traits and mannerisms. "He's as tired as I am which means his snark is at an all-time low. He'll glower and mumble, but there's no energy behind it."

True to her words, Roman slumped against their own police car and puffed on a cigar. He'd managed to fashion together a VSPR uniform which had similar colour patterns to his old outfit, the white and black contrasting across his body, but that proved a poor choice with how badly he was sweating, not to mention the grime and blood (none of it his), splattered across the white fabric. Yang hazarded she didn't look much better. Her black mantle had been abandoned, being far too ornate for actual fighting, and she'd instead gone with a blue police jacket over a black tank-top, the jacket open thanks to the baking heat. She'd tired the sleeve of her missing arm into a knot, and she knew people looked at it whenever they saw her.

That would have normally bothered her, but she was just too tired for it.

"Finished dealing with the kindergarten patrol?" Roman asked, nodding in the direction of the police as they moved out to collect the two criminals. Or victims, as it were. The only criminal stood before her, puffing mercilessly on a cigar. She'd never really liked the idea of smoking, nor those who did it in front of her, but she couldn't help but wish there was some other vice-free method of getting its relaxant properties.

Sure, there were herbal remedies and medicine, but the current situation had kind of put her off over-the-counter medication. An outbreak of some kind of rage-plague tended to have that effect.

"They're doing their best," she said, taking the chance to lean against the squad car beside him. The day really was too hot for this kind of work. "Besides, it's not like you can expect them to fight off people with aura. Even if people affected by Fang are almost mindless, they're still huntsman-trained."

"Hmm…" Roman's acknowledgement wasn't filled with much in the way of understanding or sympathy, but then again neither was he. "This is still a pain in the ass. Is our shift over yet?"

Yang checked her scroll, and then, just to be safe, checked the car radio as well. When she heard Junior answering a radio call for assistance, she sighed and brought her head back out. "Yep. Junior and Mercury have started the afternoon shift."

Roman tried for a cheer, but it came out more as a groan. Junior and mercury had the second-hardest shift moving into the afternoon, but their own was the worst. She and Roman had from the hours of nine in the morning to five in the afternoon, which caught the times when most people woke up and might take some medicine for whatever ailment they had. It was the busiest period by far, but Yang had grudgingly taken it on purpose, remembering Mira Ash's warning in the meeting. She was being judged for how the VSPR worked, and with that in mind, she'd best handle the hardest parts of the job herself.

There was a reason Miltia and Melanie had been given the night-time shift, which was far quieter than any of the day ones. The VSPR didn't need the kinds of damage those two caused on their record. Their brand of justice was fine against terrorists and criminals, but not so much the average guy or girl who'd been cruelly affected by contaminated drugs.

I guess I have Ozpin to thank for so few huntsmen and huntresses being infected, Yang thought. The headmaster must have used his influence with their type to pass the news around, and she could imagine Miss Goodwitch stalking the halls confiscating painkillers like they were Class-A drugs. Either way, she hadn't had the displeasure of having to arrest any of her old classmates, so that was a good thing.

"Do you think what we're doing here is enough?" she asked.

Roman cocked a brow. "Hm?"

"To keep the VSPR going," she amended, seeing his eyes light up in understanding. "I mean, this is what the Council wants, so we're doing our job…"

"But we're not bringing in the White Fang. Yeah, I get what you mean." Roman sighed and drew out another cigar, watching alongside her as the police officers closed the door on the two unconscious huntsmen and drove them off towards the hospital, lights flashing but sirens turned off. In the peace that followed, Yang was painfully aware of just how many civilians were staring in their direction.

Was it the fact Roman Torchwick stood there, casually smoking away? Or was it the one-armed girl with an open jacket baring more than enough skin, but also lacking an arm? Hell, maybe they didn't care for either, and instead stared at the black police car with the yellow and silver VSPR logo emblazoned on the side.

"They can't criticise us, but we're not exactly excelling right now," Yang continued, choosing to ignore the stares for now. "I'm just worried they'll use that as an excuse once this dies down. People are going to remember that the Council and police moved fast to protect everyone, but our name will be forgotten."

"And the fame that's making us too important to shut down," Roman agreed. "You're not wrong, boss. We could do to get another victory under our belt, but at the same time, if we mess up and let even a single person run rampage, I'm pretty sure we both know who the Council is going to blame."

Yang did, and couldn't even bring herself to feel surprised. Right now, they were riding on some good opinion for discovering this plot before it got worse, but they could just as easily become scapegoats if needed. The Council only cared for their own political careers, after all.

"I don't suppose your contact can find us something else, can he?"

"The one that got us the info here? Nah. He's dead."

Yang spluttered for air at that little titbit. She shot Roman a look, eyes wide. "Dead?" she gasped. "What happened to him?"

"Uh, didn't I just say? He's dead. He got killed."

"Not that." Yang growled and punched him in the stomach. Roman took it easily, having solid abs despite his many bad habits. "How did he die? How do you know he was killed? Why aren't you more concerned about this?"

"Because it happens. The kid was a small-time information dealer getting in over his head. There's no shortage of them, and no shortage of bodies that turn up when someone pries too deep." Roman sighed and flicked the stub of his cigar away. When he made no move to stomp it out, Yang scowled and did it for him. He smirked at her effort.

"You don't think it's a bad thing he died, then? Wasn't he your friend?"

"You don't make friendships in the underworld, Captain. You make deals, acquaintances – and in rare situations – fruitful partnerships. This was neither. It's a shame, and I can't say I expected this to get him killed. I doubt he did, either, but then again, none of us expected the White Fang to be running something this big." Roman shrugged. "The kid found out something dangerous and we shut it down. That kind of thing has consequences."

"So, we're back to square one, albeit we have a bigger grace period than the last time. I take it you haven't got anyone else willing to sell some Intel to you?"

"After what just happened to this poor sap?"

Good point. The White Fang had sent a message by killing this guy, and she doubted anyone else would be feeling confident enough to take the risk. Junior might have, had he still been in business, but his arrest had created a power vacuum and there weren't any information dealers with guards and protection like he'd had.

"I might know someone," Roman said suddenly. "I've already put some feelers out, but it's complicated. I'll have to see how it goes, but I wouldn't expect any immediate results."

"I'll need to find another way," Yang mumbled, earning a nod from the man. Even if she felt disappointed by that, there was a glimmer of hope, or maybe determination. She'd had far less time to save the VSPR a few days back, and she'd pulled it off. At the very least now, she had until the Fang epidemic died out - and then probably a few weeks beyond to give them time to investigate it. Provided no one else solved the White Fang case before they did, which seemed unlikely given the police's current record.

There was time yet, but she couldn't afford to goof off too much. Before that, however, there was something else she had to deal with. She'd slept at her place of work for four days now. She refused to make it five.

"Let's get back and drop off the car," Yang said, sweeping around to the passenger side and letting herself in. Roman grunted his assent and climbed into the driver's seat with a muffled yawn. She had a motorcycle license, but not a car one, and even if she had, operating the gears would have been out of her power with only one arm. Fortunately, Roman knew how to drive. Likely a result of how often he'd spent that time escaping from people.

"We crashing out once we get back, or is there work to do?" he asked, pulling out onto the main road and away.

"No work today. I need to rent an apartment."

"Did the old bastard get us the forward payments?"

"Ozpin," Yang corrected with a stern look. "And yes, he did." She had no idea why, since she'd half-expected him to make his challenge harder by telling her to wait until payday, but he'd surprised her. Understanding that she didn't have the means to support herself, he'd arranged for their first month of pay to come in advance – and the same for Roman, too. "It should be in your account by now."

"Nice. I was getting tired of the couch in the foyer."

Yang's eye twitched, but she refrained from yelling at him. The couch was a damn sight better than her stiff desk and chair, but there was no way she was going to fall asleep in the same room as Roman. Still, a true gentleman would have offered to take the floor.

"Do you have anywhere in mind?" he asked, turning away from traffic and towards their HQ. "We could do a little shopping together if you like. I know some places."

"Thanks, but no thanks. You know what I think of you. We are not living together."

Roman chuckled. "So cruel…"

/-/

It hadn't taken them long to get back to the HQ and park up, or for the two of them to change into more casual clothes and go their separate ways. Yang would have felt bad about leaving Roman unattended, but if he'd wanted to make a run, he'd have been able to do it whether she was there or not. The more important thing was making sure she had a place to stay, and hopefully something a little more long-term while she was at it. Six months wasn't a great amount of time, but it was enough that she'd prefer her own place to a hotel, room service be damned.

It was with that in mind that she found herself sat in a small office at an estate agents, the man she was talking to having promised to stay behind a little after work to process her. He looked tired and bored with the whole affair, but she wasn't going to show him any pity for it.

You think you've had a bad day? You don't know the meaning of it…

"I've been through your records, Miss Xiao-Long, or as much as you have…" He trailed off, as though to ask if she'd be any more forthcoming in person.

"I told you I don't have many. I was a student at Beacon, and now I'm the Captain of a police unit. You've seen my paperwork."

"I know, but you need to understand that many landlords expect a little more than this. They want proof you'll be a long-term tenant, and one that won't cause any problems." He shuffled through some sheets of paper, and she could tell from the look on his face that it wasn't good. "You've only been employed for a week or so…"

"It's a complicated situation."

"You've never held a job before, or rented a property…"

"I lived with my Dad, and then at Beacon." Her eye twitched. "Also, I'm seventeen. I think the fact I have such a high paying job at that age is pretty impressive!" And the VSPR did pay well, with danger-allowance included. It was just that she hadn't technically been paid for a full month, yet.

"I don't doubt you, ma'am." And she instantly disliked being called that. "It's just that many of our landlords have requirements, and some will feel nervous taking on someone so young. Your… uh… current company doesn't help."

"I'm here on my own."

"Yes, but you are rather well known, ma'am. D-Don't you work with Roman Torchwick?"

"Work with," she pressed. "I don't live with him. We don't share any time together outside of work."

"Even so, that's bound to make a lot of people nervous. It's not that I don't believe you…" Although the tone of his voice said he didn't. "It's just that most landlords are quite cautious people. They don't want to have to do anything other than rent it out and forget about it. Then there are the horror stories of bad tenants and what they can do…"

Yang sighed and brought her hand up to massage her brow. "You're saying this is a no, then? Look, you don't need to keep going on if you can't find me anywhere to stay. Just say it and I can go check elsewhere."

"Oh, it's not that," the man said, laughing nervously. "I definitely have a place that I'm sure would accept you."

"Then why tell me all of this first?" Yang asked. Her eyes narrowed. "You're trying to prepare me for something…"

He continued to laugh. It was not confident.

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"W-Well, since it's the only place that would be willing to accept you, why don't we check it out?"

/-/

It was funny how often her feelings turned out to be spot on. The estate agent looked nervous, and with good reason since the building was a squat and ugly thing cramped between two taller ones on a street that probably hadn't seen law enforcement in several decades. There were hooded people at every corner, and Yang would bet a few were dealing in drugs and other things. Others were just drinking – tossing their bottles to smash on the sidewalk.

"Nice area," she quipped.

"Y-Yes," the man said, jumping slightly. He held his clipboard close to his chest and it looked like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to step closer to her for protection, or further away thanks to the thunderous expression on her face. "Well, why don't we go inside? I-I'm sure the landlord will be happy to see us."

He was, as it turned out – though he appeared more pleased to see her breasts than her. Calling him fat would have been cruel, especially to people struggling with their weight. The man had rivulets on his rivulets, and wore the largest t-shirt he could find, which still looked fit to burst. To make matters worse, he smelled vaguely of something she didn't dare identify, and had beady little eyes that never quite made it all the way back up to hers.

"Hello there," he said, greeting her tits with what he probably thought was a pleasant smile. "The name's Rob Burn. Robin to my friends."

"Charmed," Yang said with a roll of the eyes. Once upon a time she might have asked him to look higher, but the truth of the matter was that she didn't want to extend their meeting any longer than she had to. She held out a hand, and that proved a mistake, for he brought it to his lips and kissed it.

She shuddered.

The estate agent, who knew who she was and what she was capable of, almost pissed himself.

"We're here to look at the apartment on offer," Yang said, drawing her hand back and subtly wiping it on her pant leg when his eyes were drawn back to her chest.

"I can show you, sweetheart."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother, Robin. I'm sure you've got better things to do." She nodded back in the direction of the TV he'd been sat in front of, which gave out a throaty and feminine moan. The estate agent looked mortified. The man in front of her didn't even seem to notice, let alone show any embarrassment.

Am I really going to have to stay here? Yang wondered. Bunking with Roman was looking more and more enticing. The worst he'd do was murder her in her sleep.

"I-I have to be the one to show her, Mr Burn," the nervous man beside her said, likely realising what would happen if Yang wasn't separated from the dead man in front of her. "It's for legal reasons. I'm sure you understand."

He didn't, but nodded anyway. "Well, if you need me," he said, plodding back to his TV and sitting behind it once more. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the screen.

"What a wonderful start…" Yang muttered.

"I'm sure it'll get better."

"Do you actually believe that?"

He laughed. "It can't get much worse, right?"

The guy had a point, though both she – and he – soon realised such sentiment was woefully misplaced. It started when they ascended the stairs to the second floor, to which the word "rickety" would have been a compliment. They didn't so much creak as cry out for death, and she wondered if she should have felt bad for using them. At one point, the man in front of her stumbled as a step gave way, and would have fallen if not for her fast reflexes.

"T-Thanks," he whispered, not quite meeting her eyes. At least even he seemed embarrassed to be showing her around such a place.

Not that it does me much good, she thought. I thought he was leading me on at first, but it's obvious he doesn't want to be here anymore than I do. This really must be the only place that would take me. She sighed. Nothing's ever easy…

"Here it is," he said, turning a key in a door. He seemed surprised – and relieved – when it clicked open without falling off its hinges. Yang shot him a coy look and he flushed. "Well, everything seems to be in order. Let's take a look inside."

If they'd hoped the interior would be any better than the rest of the building, they were obviously disappointed, though not – dare she admit it – quite as much as she'd dreaded. The walls were threadbare and peeling, and the couch in the sitting room gave `old` new meaning, but from the look of the property, and of its owner, she'd prepared herself mentally for cockroaches and holes in the walls.

It was a piece or crap, but there wasn't an insect infestation, and there was an air-conditioning and heating unit, as old and battered as everything else, but still in one piece. The kitchen and living room were one room cut in the middle by a wooden counter, while there was little more than two doors leading off, one to a bathroom and the other a bedroom. The agent showed her around nervously, as relieved as she to enter each room and not find insects, rats or some passed-out drug dealer slumped on the floor.

"It's a starter apartment for sure," he said, valiantly trying to sell it up. "Its best aspects are its price, which is very competitive for being in the city of Vale. Why, it's almost half the price of many other apartments in the area."

"I'm impressed," Yang said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you actually managed to say all that with a straight face."

"O-Oh…" He slumped, and then coughed into one hand. "Okay, yeah, it's a dump, I'll admit it. There isn't much I can do, though. Almost all the landlords on our books want at least two months of someone being in a job before they'll let them sign a tenancy agreement." He smiled apologetically. "If you come back to me after that, I could have you in a luxury apartment for the wages you earn. It's just that I can't offer that now. I'm really sorry."

Yang sighed. She wanted to be angry, but it wasn't really his fault. It wasn't hers either, nor the other landlords, who had all sorts of reasons to be wary – not of her, but of other people who probably had been bad tenants, and who had set a bad example for everyone else. "It's fine," she said. "Well, not the place. I mean, this looks like something out of a murder movie."

The agent's smile was weak.

"But I mean, this is it, right? This is the only place you could find."

"I-I can keep looking," he promised. "If you want to keep using us, I mean. I'd understand if you didn't."

"I'd appreciate it if you could."

In the end, she signed the agreement for the apartment – after going through all the small print and having it explained to her. The agent promised to keep looking in the meanwhile, and explained that he might be able to speak privately with some landlords and try to arrange a meeting. In his words, they might make an exception if they met and trusted her as a person, as the rules were just to keep the bad kind of people away.

There was no telling if she'd qualify as that, or course – not with her job description, but maybe that would depend on how well the VSPR worked out. They had a chance to craft their own reputation, though there was no telling whether that would be good or bad in the end.

It's only for six months, she reminded herself as the agent left. She'd offered to walk him back to the high street, but he'd ordered a taxi to the building – too afraid to chance the streets, even with her as protection. Honestly, she didn't blame him.

"Well, it's a step down from Beacon," she said, airing out the blankets. They were dusty, but relatively clean. The mattress was also worn, but not broken anywhere. "Though I have my own kitchen, so that's a plus." She'd checked all the appliances before she signed anything, and there was only a light broken in the fridge. It still worked.

"Dad would be furious if he could see this. It's only temporary, though." She sighed and fell back on the mattress, her single arm held over her eyes. She was working her ass off anyway, so it didn't really matter if this place was a hellhole. "Heh, keep telling yourself that," she whispered, laughing at her own misfortune.

You could have stayed at Uncle Qrow's, you know.

"Yeah, but then I'd be mooching off him."

Since when has that been a bad thing?

"Since I needed to prove a point." She rolled over and cheek pressed against the mattress. "Everyone thinks I'm suddenly useless because of my arm. I need to show them I'm not. That means no crawling off to Uncle Qrow because I couldn't find a place to live. Normal people have to deal with this, and I can too."

Besides, she thought, as she drifted off. It's only for a couple of months…

/-/

It was seven when Yang let herself back into the HQ, and judging from the cars in the parking lot, Miltia and Melanie were still there, despite being on shift. That probably had more to do with Fang outbreaks being quiet in the early morning than laziness, however. As she let herself in with a tired yawn, Roman's voice washed over her.

"Oh, it's great – you should see it. Even had little chocolates waiting for me in the- oh, hey, boss." Roman leaned his head back over the sofa, Miltia and Melanie hanging onto each of his arms, both smiling happily. Compared to the last couple of days, he looked freshly washed and back to his usual splendour – that was to say he'd found some mascara.

"You're in a good mood," Yang said, yawning. Her bed had been lumpy and stiff all night, though it was the creaking from next door which kept her up. At first, she'd thought it the floorboards, but she'd later realised it was bed springs.

The male – and only male – grunting hadn't helped. She could tell from the sound of it, there wasn't two men in that bed, which meant she'd been privy to something she'd rather die than experience again.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Roman asked, laughing. "It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, and I just had the best breakfast I've ever tasted. I kid you not, exquisite! Not to mention I got to wash off all that hard work with a trip in a sauna." He sighed happily. "Even had enough left over for a massage."

Yang's eye continued to twitch, her hand clenched into a fist as she counted to ten and back down again.

"What about you?" Roman asked, somehow failing to notice her fury. "You find a place to stay?"

"Yes," she gritted out.

"Cool. I couldn't find one at first, mostly because my records aren't exactly great, but I came up with the idea of booking a holiday instead. For the next three weeks, I'm holidaying in Vale at Le Maison Hotel. It cost me most of my pay packet, but I've got all-inclusive food and drink, not to mention access to the pool, sauna and gym. The room is amazing." He grinned crookedly. "How about you? Your place nice?"

"It's lovely," Yang lied, forcing out her best smile. She wanted to strangle the cunning bastard. "Needs a lick of paint, but really homey. It's got…" She fought for the right word. "Character..."

"Character, huh? Sounds like a nice place. Anyway, I was just inviting the girls over if they ever want to have a drink." He grinned roguishly and cuddled the two closer to his side. "My treat, of course."

"Oh, Roman." Miltia giggled. "You're always such a gentleman."

"Hmm," Melanie agreed, running a finger over his chest. "You know just how to treat a girl…"

"Shouldn't you two be working?" Yang asked, annoyed at the sight. She and Roman had worked their asses off all of yesterday, and since she'd heard neither hide nor hair from Junior or Mercury, she could imagine they had, too.

"We were earlier," Melanie said, looking back her way. "There were a few arrests around one or two. Apparently, some party animals have been deciding Fang is some kind of cool drug to `dare` your friends to take."

Yang growled and shook her head. "Are people idiots? Why would they do that?"

"Why does anyone do stupid shit like that? The thrill, mostly. That or no common sense. Anyway, we had to go and break up a small riot at a nightclub."

"We only broke a few bones," Miltia giggled.

"You better not have," Yang warned, imagining the paperwork. That she hadn't been woken up by an irate Ozpin – or an even angrier Police Captain – she assumed they were trying to lead her on. Those two seemed to get off on riling her up. "Anyway, you two are still on the clock until nine. I'll be in my office if you need me. Has anyone fed Mark?"

"I took him a bacon sandwich earlier," Miltia said dismissively. "He said something about telling me nothing. I didn't really listen."

"Cool," Yang nodded, equally uninterested. "Alright, I'll be in my office if you need me. Try not to."

"Aye-aye, Captain!"

Yang nodded and pushed through the door into the back corridors towards her office, muttering the whole way. "Stupid Roman, stupid landlords, stupid fancy five-star hotels. Who needs them? Not me. I don't need those things at all. I'm happy with a dusty bedroom and a greasy sausage Bap. Totally."

It wasn't like she missed Beacon's cafeteria making food for her at all, or Dad doing it when she'd been back home in Patch and recovering. Not one bit. Her stomach disagreed, but it could take a hike, too. With a growl, she opened the door to her office.

"Hello there," the suited man in her seat greeted warmly.

Yang paused, and then sighed as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. When the man made to speak, she held a hand up and walked around her desk, taking the phone off the hook and dialling the number of the main desk. It rang several times before someone answered.

"Yo, VSPR," Melanie yawned. "Give me a reason to care or hang up."

"It's Yang."

"I-I mean VSPR, how can we help you today?"

Yang rolled her eyes. "Cute. Do you mind me asking why you didn't tell me someone was waiting in my office?"

"What are you on about?" Melanie sounded genuinely confused, and Yang's eyes narrowed on the figure patiently waiting with a smile on his face. He was handsome, she supposed, though not in any dramatic way. He had dirty-blonde hair and a clean-shaven face.

"You didn't see anyone enter earlier and ask for me?"

"No. Mil and I were off on a case in the morning, but we've been here since four. Why, is something here? You need us to get rid of someone?" Miltia cracked her knuckled through the receiver.

"No. It's fine. Thanks for checking." Yang hung up, turning to regard the man who suddenly seemed a lot more dangerous despite not moving a muscle, nor making a threatening gesture. If Miltia and Melanie had been in the main foyer, then there was no way they could have missed someone entering. That meant the guy came in while they were gone – which meant he'd have had to break in. That would have required some serious effort.

Or serious clearance…

"You realise it's a crime to break into a police station, right?"

"I do," the man replied, his voice even. He smiled and rose from her seat, offering it back. Yang checked it before she sat down, unwilling to look nervous by refusing it, but not wanting to be ambushed either. He didn't look like he was armed, but that didn't always mean anything. "However, I don't believe you will press charges against me, Miss Xiao-Long."

"Oh? Why?"

"Because it would take weeks and you simply don't have the time to waste. Of course, that's assuming any charges would stick in the first place." The man bowed from the waist, sweeping a hand before him with a pleasant smile. "My name is Vincent. Vincent Saint-Sinclair. I am something of a collector – an avid collector, you might say, and I-"

"Is this going somewhere?" Yang asked, interrupting him before he could get started. "Look, Vincent, right? Let's be straight. I'm not a subtle person. If you're making some kind of grand overtone, then it's gone right over my head." She waved her hand above her for emphasis. "I'm tired, grumpy, and about to start a day's work of fighting innocent people who don't deserve it. I have so little time right now, and I'd like to get some work done."

"You wish me to cut to the chase?"

"Preferably, yes."

"I'm a messenger."

"I thought you said you were a collector…"

"Cut to the chase, or go back to the metaphors?"

"Sorry. Go on."

"I'm a messenger," he continued, still smiling politely. "I work for some influential people whose interests currently coincide with your own. I've been tasked with meeting with you to provide a port of contact between the VSPR and ourselves. Our higher-ups believe that you might be an… asset to our goals."

This is the basic version? How confusing would the long story have been? Yang sighed and felt another headache coming – and cursed as she realised she yet again didn't dare take any medicine for it. Still, it looked like the guy wanted an answer. "Okay? I'll throw out one thing. I'm not interested in working for the mafia, so if this is one of those crooked cop things, then no. Thanks for asking, but no. Also, you're under arrest."

"I am not a part of the mafia," Vincent – if that was even his name – said. "And you- wait, are you handcuffing me!?"

"Are you surprised?" Yang asked, doing just that. Whatever the guy was, he wasn't particularly fast, since she'd managed to cuff his wrist to hers without any trouble. Well, that or he was just caught off-guard, which his wide eyes and open mouth seemed to suggest.

Oh look, she'd flustered the super-mysterious man. How cute.

Bet he didn't see that one coming.

"I-I am on your side," he stammered. "We are on your side. I think you're misunderstanding the situation, Miss Xiao-"

"Captain," she interrupted, grinning. "You'll address me by my title, thanks. Or you can call me Sir. Trust me, you don't want to know what happened to the last person I told that to."

"Captain, then. This is a terrible misunderstanding. I am not working for any illegal organisation. Our goals are aligned."

"Of course they are," she said, standing and hauling him behind her. "And you can tell me all about them in your shiny new cell."

"What would you even arrest me for?"

"Metaphorical nonsense?"

"That's not a crime!"

"Breaking and entry, then. Is that a crime, Mr Sinclair?"

"A-Admittedly…" He cut off as she dragged him down the stairs into the basement, where the painted and plastered walls gave way to solid grey. The basement was almost entirely a prison block, though there were also a few storage rooms for weapons, replete with locked cabinets. Calling it a cell block was maybe a little much, since there were only three cells, each solid concrete on three sides with bars and a door on the front. They were side by side along one side of the basement.

In one of them, a figure stirred to life atop his bed. "You've come," he said at last. "You can interrogate me all you want, human scum. I'll never tell you anything!"

"I'm not here to interrogate you."

"You're not?" The faunus managed to sound disappointed. "Then what are you here for?"

"Nothing to do with you."

"O-Oh…"

"Come along, Vincent. Now, because I'm nice, which would you like? You can have the left-most cell or the right-most. You can't have the middle since Mark has seniority."

"My name isn't Mark!"

Yang ignored him, and instead focused on her rapidly paling prisoner. "Or," she said, smiling. "You can get straight to the point, stop wasting my time, and tell me why I shouldn't arrest you altogether. If you make it really quick, I might even let you go altogether. How does that sound?"

Good, apparently.

"We have information on the White Fang!"

"Now that changes things," Yang said, suddenly all smiles as she brought her guest back in front of her. "Why didn't you say so? You really should just get to the point instead of leading a girl on. She might get upset or something."

"S-So I see. I apologise, Captain. The organisation I have been sent from desires to see the White Fang threat dealt with."

"And you came to us instead of the regular police?"

"They're overstretched and fragmented. Even then, we don't think they have the necessary skills. Your group does."

Well, she couldn't argue with him there. The White Fang had been around for ages, long before Beacon fell, and before she'd even enrolled in the first place. The police hadn't even been able to stop Roman – that had been left to four teenage girls in their first year of school. Not exactly the most glowing of records.

"We don't know everything," Vincent said, "but we're working to try and find out more. With the current nightmare the Fang outbreak has caused, our resources are spread thin. We need someone to act on what we have, and one of my superiors suggested you personally."

"Really? Who?"

"I can't say – can't," he added quickly when her eyebrow rose. "I don't know him by name, only position. I-If our relationship proves fruitful, I'm sure he'll deign to speak with you in person, but for now everything has to be through me. It's a security issue."

"I'll let that go for now," Yang said, though she made a note to look into it later. The only person she could think of was Ozpin, but if that were the case, wouldn't the guy have just said his name in the first minute? A whole lot of drama could have been avoided if he'd just said `Ozpin sent me to talk to you`. No. This was someone else. "What do you have for us?" she asked.

"Nothing concrete, I'm afraid. Not yet. What I do have is a file on a research group that worked with Middivale Pharmaceuticals, however. It's in my inner-left breast pocket."

Yang nodded and motioned for him to reach for it. She'd have done it herself, but her arm was cuffed to his. She relaxed when he brought out a small black card for her to take. It would fit into a scroll, but she pocketed it for now. "What's so odd about these researchers?"

"Only that they're the only company to know the formula for the MVP product that was contaminated. They keep their recipes secret, so my superior was intrigued to learn that the White Fang had managed to crack it so quickly."

"Didn't they find it at the factory?"

"It would have taken a long time to crack the recipe, let alone synthesise an additive that would generate effects like this, Captain. The White Fang were able to manufacture and process Fang within a matter of days. That speaks of prior preparation – and this is the only place they could have acquired that."

"Makes sense," Yang nodded. "This doesn't seem like an action kind of job, though. I'm sure the police could handle this."

"It would take weeks to get a warrant, maybe even months. Even the act of doing so would give the White Fang time to hide their tracks. My employers were impressed with your… direct approach."

Our breaking the rules, more like, Yang thought. So, they wanted the VSPR to handle it because they could strike without warning and weren't afraid to take a few risks. And it was a risk. Whatever group this guy worked for, they were offloading all of the risk onto her. If this was a bust, she and the VSPR would be dragged through the mud. If it worked out, the VSPR smelled of roses, but this group also benefitted.

Win-win, at least from their point of view. Not so much from hers.

Still, they didn't have anything else to go on, and Fang was still wracking the city. With no other leads on offer, it wasn't like she had much of a choice. This was too good to pass up – as Vincent likely knew.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Really, I mean."

"I'm no one, and that's no metaphor." He laughed awkwardly. "I'm more of a clerk here, just passing on something important to you. As for who gives me orders? Well, they must know you if they could recommend you by name, but you'd have more idea than me. I'll be sure to pass on what I learned about you." He smiled lopsidedly. "Maybe they'll want to meet you in person. I was warned that you could be impetuous."

"And yet you didn't listen."

"I didn't think they meant this impetuous!" he cried, holding up his arm.

"Yeah well, that's what you get for being all mysterious and stuff." She rolled her eyes and clicked the cuffs open with her finger. "Next time, just leave me a note or something. Now get out of here, or Mark will get a new roommate."

"My name isn't-"

"No one cares," both Yang and Vincent said at the same time. The man chuckled and backed away. "I'll get out of your hair, Captain. You'll find the means to contact us on that device. Should you find it in yourself to report to us as well as your superiors on what you find, we would appreciate it. We will find out in time, of course, but the faster we can put our resources into deciphering what the White Fang are up to, the faster we can feed more information to you."

"Only to us?"

"To the Council as well," Vincent said, "but they can be slow to act and are often bound by law and… politics. Sometimes reputation and lien get in the way of the correct decisions being made."

The message was clear. Scratch their backs and they would scratch hers. It was a dangerous proposition, but if it got her closer to returning to Beacon? Well, she was all for it. "Keep an eye on the news," she said. "I have a feeling a certain research centre might run into some problems."

"I'll look forward to it, Captain. I'm sure this is the beginning of a fruitful relationship."

/-/

"What do you think?" Yang asked, indicating the screen. Behind her, Roman stood – with the rest of the VSPR close by, all clamouring to look over her shoulder and see what was on the screen. It was a lot, sadly, and most of it jargon she only barely understood.

"It looks legitimate," Junior said. "He's right that the White Fang can't have had control of the factory for too long. People would have noticed the hostages if that were the case."

"Probably takes time to figure a way to turn painkillers into a zombie drug, too," Mercury added. "It's probably a little convenient to imagine they just stumbled on it. Cinder would never have moved unless she had every angle covered."

"Cinder is dead," Yang said. "I saw the body."

"True, but Adam isn't – and he's no idiot." Mercury leaned forward to inspect the screen. "It's definitely a risk, but everything looks about right. This is the kind of lead we might have come up with in time on our own."

"Kid's got a point," Roman added, leaning his hands on her shoulder, and completely ignoring her indignant look when he did so. "It all checks out. To be honest, we had less intelligence on the factory and we still took the risk."

"That was desperation. We only had one day."

"Is this any different? If the Council gets their asses into gear and moves on this before we do, we'll lose our edge."

"But if we go in guns blazing and we're wrong…?" She trailed off. It didn't need to be said. They'd be ruined if these people were actually innocent. Yes, the evidence was stacked against them, but Vale couldn't raid a place based on just that. Laws existed to protect people. Companies, too. "If only we had some way of making sure. I'm not totally willing to trust a guy who breaks into our HQ and doesn't even tell us who he works for."

"I doubt any of us could sneak in," Melanie said. "Places like that have to protect their secrets, otherwise terrorists like the White Fang get them and make killer drugs. They'll have heavy security… cameras, checkpoints, that kind of stuff. You'd need someone who already works for them."

Yang slammed her fist down on the table, cursing out loud.

Roman, however, simply chuckled.

"What's so funny?" she asked, glaring up at him.

"Oh, I was just thinking that maybe I can help, after all."

Yang's eyes narrowed. "How?"

"I know someone who would be able to slip in and get us the information we need. They could even open the doors and get us in if the fighting starts." He tapped the screen. "No risk. No danger. We can find out whether these guys are legit, and whether we can trust your new friend, all in one fell swoop."

It sounded too good to be true.

Considering this was Roman Torchwick, it probably was too good to be true.

"What's the catch?"

"It'll require a little more… forgiveness on your part. They're not exactly welcomed in polite company, and they may have had a bit of a bad run-in with the law." Roman smiled crookedly. "You know how it is. But if you could maybe wave all of that away, she might be willing to help. In fact, I'm sure she'd leap at the chance."

Roman's smarm was unbearable, and Yang knew why. She had a feeling she knew who it was Roman meant, and she did not like the idea.

Not one bit.

Uh-oh, and who could this mysterious criminal be? Well, I'm sure no one is surprised – but I've had more than enough people asking or begging for them. As for Vincent, aside from his appearance here, he shouldn't be over much of a recurring character, so don't worry. Some OC's are needed to fill the occasional position, but they will remain side-characters.

Next Chapter: 21st November

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur