It took Yang and Blake a while to make their way to the club after that – the remaining distance was short, but the time it took them to get there was far longer. To start with, it took them a good seven minutes to get up off the couch; there wasn't any set time for getting over a near-death experience, but Blake was willing to bet that 'short' wasn't a common time measurement. As such, neither woman made any move to get up at first, instead allowing their souls plenty of time to return to their bodies, letting the warmth of their limbs soothe the aching muscles of one another.
Blake moved first, her fingers protesting as they began to fill with pins and needles under the blonde's weight. Yang groaned at first, but rolled off of her partner as Blake continued to move beneath her, trying to worm her way out from underneath the woman. Eyes shut, Yang didn't notice how close the edge of the couch was until she had rolled right off of it.
With no small amount of swearing, Yang was quickly acquainted with the ground, thumping heavily into the grass. Blake shot up in surprise as her handcuffed arm was pulled along with the blonde's descent, the dark haired woman leaning over the edge of the couch to see the blonde sprawled out below, groaning in annoyance more than pain.
Blake couldn't help it. She laughed.
One lilac eye popped open to glare at the giggling woman, her brow furrowing as her face scrunched up in exaggerated fury.
"You laughin' at me, punk?" the blonde growled, Blake snickering at her irritated drawl, "Come on down here and fight me, then we'll see who's laughing."
Blake snorted in lieu of a reply, leaning away from the edge of the couch and straightening up, wincing as her vertebrae reminded her that yes, they still existed. With a stretch that would put a cat to shame, Blake groaned slightly as her muscles realigned – down below, Yang blushed furiously at the noise – and pulled herself to her feet. Glancing at the couch revealed the indent her body had left, and glancing down to the ground revealed a red-faced blonde.
Raising an eyebrow at the woman's blush only caused Yang to redden further, before she shook her head, willing away the hue staining her cheeks. Blake extended her cuffed hand a moment later, Yang grasping it and blinking in surprise as the dark haired woman pulled her easily to her feet. Finding herself reacquainted with solid ground beneath her feet, Yang glanced back and forth between Blake and the hands that were still clasped together.
"You pulled me to my feet!" she stammered, unable to fully form her thoughts into words.
Blake raised an eyebrow at the unexpected statement, letting go of Yang as her other hand perched itself on her hip.
"That's surprising?" the dark haired woman asked, looking at Yang with a mixture of bemusement and curiosity.
"Well, yeah!" Yang responded, her reply quick, "Most people can't do that on the first try, especially with only one arm. I weigh too much for it."
The second dark eyebrow rose to join the first.
"Are you calling yourself fat? Because I can assure you, you are not fat."
"What? Oh, no! I'm not fat, I'm just – heavy."
Blake tilted her head inquisitively, prompting the blonde to explain further.
"I'm basically made of solid muscle," Yang clarified, "so I'm not exactly light, even if I'm thin. Most people can't pull me to my feet in one try like that, because I'm heavier than they expect."
Blake hummed in understanding, before a mischievous grin passed onto her face and she addressed the blonde.
"So, you were expecting me to be weak?"
Yang's face lit up like a stop sign again, clearly embarrassed by the accusation.
"N-no, I didn't mean it like that! I just wasn't expecting–"
Blake laughed, cutting off the blonde's flustered rambling as she waved a dismissive hand.
"It's fine, Yang," she replied softly, "I know what you meant."
Then she paused, looking thoughtful before continuing.
"But to satisfy your curiosity," she said, grinning impishly, "my previous, ah… line of work called for me to be strong enough to lift myself and other heavy objects."
Yang waited for further explanation, particularly on the line of work bit, but none came. She blinked.
"Oh," Yang answered lamely.
Blake simply smirked at her response, turning to look down at their previous form of transportation. The Rust-o-matic-2000 had collapsed onto its side after its forceful ejection of its passengers, lying flat in the road. It, surprisingly, had kept its shape even after having been slammed into a curb at a ridiculously high speed – Blake had half expected it to disintegrate into a cloud of rust on impact – and didn't really look like it had just been through a life threatening experience.
Well, at least until Blake moved to upright it.
"Yang, I don't think we're going to be able to ride this any further."
"Hmm?"
The blonde peered over her shoulder, distracted from her former task – checking her hair for split ends – and glanced towards the bike. Immediately, she realized what issue Blake was referring to; the front wheel, which had once resembled something of a circle, was now incredibly bent out of shape. Yang leaned forwards, peering at the wreck as she commented on it.
"It appears our bike is exploring the career path of a body contortionist."
"No kidding. Perhaps we should consider entering it into the Cirque du Soleil."
"As what, a metal pretzel? We'd have better luck trying to sell it off on the internet as a new kind of sex toy."
Yang grinned brightly at the short glare Blake sent her way, the piercing amber gaze relaying her lack of amusement. Blake blinked as she glanced back towards the bike, scrutinizing it heavily.
"It looks like an infection just waiting to happen."
Yang laughed heartily, planting a hand on her hip and shaking her head. Blake really was a girl after her heart when it came to a shared sense of humour.
"Well, infections aside," Yang replied, "that bike's no longer going to get us far."
"You're kidding," Blake responded flatly, "I honestly thought you would have tried at least once to ride it back up the street."
"You got me there," Yang giggled, shooting a quick finger pistol at her partner, "but seriously, I know a lost cause when I see one."
"Really? Is that why you don't look at mirrors anymore?"
"Blake! I'm hurt!"
"You, hurt?"
"Woman, you wound me!"
Blake shook her head at the blonde's feigned shock, Yang having taken up an exaggerated position, her free hand placed on her chest as her mouth hung open in amplified offence. The pair stood in silence for a moment, both staring down at the wreck of a bicycle.
Blake reached out a tentative foot, nudging the frame with her toe – immediately, the bike gave a great shudder, before the entire gear assembly fell off. They stared at the now completely wrecked bike, before Yang leaned towards Blake and stage whispered into her ear.
"Blake, you broke the bike!"
Blake scowled, lightly shoving the blonde as far away as the handcuffs would allow – she didn't meet much resistance, Yang laughing airily at the woman's reaction. As the blonde's snickers faded out, Blake rolled her eyes, taking a step back and sitting heavily upon the red couch. Yang followed a moment later, albeit landing much more heavily than her counterpart had, the springs in the couch causing her to bounce slightly.
"Well," Blake began after a moment of contemplative silence, "I guess riding there is out of the question. Ready to start walking?"
Yang groaned, flopping her head back against the cushions, blonde hair splaying out every which way.
"Fine," she muttered, "but man, I wish we could get a taxi. Why does fare have to be so darn expensive?"
Blake shrugged, letting a momentary pause fall between them – as if on cue, the silence was shattered a second later. A loud blaring of horns cut through the air, startling Blake so much she nearly fell off of the couch – Yang fared better, slightly jumping at the noise before reaching into her pocket and yanking out her ringing phone.
Taking a second to read the name that had shown up on the display, she scowled, swiping to answer and lifting the phone to her ear.
"What do you want?"
Sun's donkey braying of laughter immediately echoed from the speaker, loud enough that Blake could clearly pick up on it and his following words.
"Hey, lovebirds! Don to the Donna, Beauty to the Beast? Just calling to check in and see how you're doing. You two still alive?"
"No," Yang replied flatly, "We died from our transportation, and we're answering from the afterlife. Tell Neptune his fashion sense says hello."
Sun's laughter returned, mixed with the offended squawk of the blue-haired boy in question.
"Well, can't argue with that logic," Sun began, the sound of a smack echoing from the speaker immediately following his words, "but honestly, are you two okay? We heard you had quite the 'wild ride.'"
A beat, then:
"Sun, do you have people following us?"
"Um… No?"
Blake and Yang groaned in sync at the obvious lie.
"Great," Blake muttered, "so it's not just you two idiots who are involved in all this, then."
"Nope!" Sun replied happily – Yang could picture the satisfied smirk on his face.
"Who else is involved?" Yang began, but before she could continue, Sun cut her off.
"Ohohoho!" he interrupted, "I can't tell you that. It would ruin the surprise!"
Yang sighed, pressing two fingers to the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
"Excellent," she spoke darkly, "glad to hear we have an audience for our night of embarrassment."
"Oh, believe me – you've got a way larger audience than you think!"
At Sun's unexpected comment, Blake and Yang looked up at one another, sharing a short conversation in their eye contact. A second later, Blake spoke flatly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Sun. Explain, now."
"Er…"
"Sun."
The monkey's nervous chuckles emanated from the speaker, before his voice spoke nervously.
"Well… there may or may not be several videos on the internet of you that are going viral right now?"
There was a good ten seconds of silence, words coming to neither woman.
"Uh... you guys still there?"
"Yes," Blake replied, "we're just coming to terms with the news of our sudden internet fame."
"Aw, hey, it's not like this is new for you guys – Yang's got a bunch of videos that have tons of hits online, and Blake, you've got your own brand of internet fame!"
"Do not go there."
Yang blinked in surprise, glancing at Blake – she hadn't expected the harsh retort to come from the usually collected young woman. Blake was glaring at the phone, as though Sun could sense her expression from the other end of the line. Evidently, he hadn't, as he kept on talking.
"Alright, alright," the Faunus continued, "I won't reveal all of your juicy secrets. You two can reveal them to one another later on – there'll be plenty of opportunities for that later on. For now, though, focus on getting to your next task, eh?"
"We were attempting that," Yang replied, "that's what nearly killed us, if you remember."
"Oh, I know!" Sun responded with far too much joy for the situation, "that's actually why I was calling – my, um, informants told me that you two nearly died in transportation, so I was calling to let you two know about something we forgot to mention earlier."
There was a beat of silence, both women waiting for Sun to finish.
"Your taxi fare is free for the night."
More silence.
"Guys?"
"We're still here, Sun," Blake returned, "we're just silently contemplating the best way to hide your body."
Sun's braying laughter spilled from the speaker once more.
"Glad to hear it," he replied, "but hey, now you know, right?"
"It would have been nice to know that a whole lot sooner," Yang retorted, "especially before we decided to ride a death trap through town. Any other possibly life-saving information you're hiding from us?"
"Nothing you need to know right now," Sun shot back cheekily, both women rolling their eyes in exasperation, "that's all I was calling to let you know. So hey, go catch a taxi! Just make sure it's one of the Adel ones. I'll talk to you two later, yeah? Keep having fun!"
"I wouldn't exactly qualify the night as 'fun,'" Yang muttered, but the monkey Faunus had already hung up. Dropping the phone, she turned to look at Blake, who wore an expression of contemplation.
"Well, at least we no longer need to walk, right?" the blonde said, startling Blake from whatever thoughts she was lost in. The dark haired woman nodded before replying.
"That's true," Blake said, "though I'm wondering about the Adel bit. What kind of connections does Sun have?"
"Oh, that's not Sun," Yang explained, drawing a look of curiosity from her partner, "that's just Coco."
At Blake's look of confusion, she elaborated.
"Coco Adel? Daughter of Senor Adel? Owner of the town's taxi service?"
"No, no, I know who Coco is," Blake clarified, "I'm just confused as to how Sun knows her."
"Neptune's the one who knew her first, actually," Yang answered, "they met through one of their rich kid things, and became pretty close. He introduced Coco and her own friends to our pack, so we've met them a couple of times. Coco's got a penchant for mischief, so it's not surprising that she's caught up in all of this, now that I think about it."
Blake hummed in understanding, before she moved to stand up, pushing herself off of the red furniture.
"Well, if even she's involved in all of this," the dark haired woman mused, "then I worry to even think about who else might be."
Yang snorted, waving her free hand dismissively as she replied.
"Worrying about that won't help us anyways," she said, "if anything, we deal with the idiots as we come across them. Cross that bridge when you get to it, you know?"
Blake nodded in agreement as Yang stood up beside her, the blonde stretching languidly. The dark haired woman glanced up the hill they'd rocketed down, turning to face her partner a moment later.
"What do you say we go catch a taxi?"
Yang grinned, moving to being their walk up the street – almost immediately she tripped, feet tangled in the metal wreck in front of her. Blake grabbed hold of the blonde to keep her upright, and to keep them both from what would likely be a very painful landing – her one hand grasped the blonde's bicep, the other stretching to grab hold of something soft. And very, very squishy.
The pair froze, taking a moment to react. Blake's brain slowly comprehended exactly what her hand was holding; Yang slowly comprehended that yes, Blake was basically copping a feel. The blonde slowly looked up at Blake, finding a very, very red faced woman looking down at her, amber eyes wide (later on, Blake would blush once more as she realized that she'd basically dipped Yang, the position they were in eerily reminiscent of her 'bad adult fiction').
There was a moment of silence, both of their faces red enough to challenge the hue of the couch beside them, neither sure of how exactly to break the awkwardness, neither letting go. Then, slowly but surely, a grin spread across Yang's face, before she spoke.
"Shouldn't you at least buy me dinner first?"
Blake's reaction was immediate; she let go of the blonde – which yes, resulted in her hand being removed from Yang's, ahem, chest, but also meant that the blonde no longer had anything keeping her upright. With a startled yelp, Yang fell the remaining distance to the ground – it wasn't high enough to actually cause injury, but that didn't keep Yang from groaning in complaint as she met the ground.
"Blaaaaaake," she moaned, cracking open a lilac eye to peer at the woman leaning over above her, noting with no small amount of delight that her face was still very red, "how could you just let me go?"
Blake scowled, trying to diminish the red hue from her cheeks.
"Oh, you're fine," she muttered darkly, then squeaked in surprise as Yang suddenly latched herself to Blake's leg, her handcuffed arm pulled along with the motion.
"Never let me go, Jack!" Yang cried dramatically, giggling as Blake tried to shake her off to no avail.
The dark haired woman sighed at the blonde's childish antics, ceasing in her desperate attempts to escape Yang's embrace in order to stare down at her.
"You can re-enact Titanic scenes later," she said flatly, as though this were actually something that needed compromise, "for now, can we go flag down a taxi?"
Yang giggled, letting go of her partner. She pushed herself up with her free hand, her one arm flexing under her weight as she stood back up (Blake fervently watched the sight, though she would never admit to it). Back on her feet, she turned to face Blake, who quirked a dark eyebrow towards her.
"Ready to go?" the blonde asked, before Blake pointed down at the bike.
"What should we do about this?" the dark haired woman inquired, Yang looking thoughtful at the question. After a moment of brief contemplation, the blonde reached down and grabbed hold of the bicycle, dragging it to prop it up against the side of the couch. With a large hand gesture towards it, she spoke.
"The couch is out here to be taken, right? Might as well throw in a free bike with the deal, too."
"I think generally when people leave things out for others, they don't expect to have things added to the pile," Blake replied, but she made no move to change Yang's solution.
The pair set off, making their way back up the residential street – it was a much longer walk than Blake anticipated, but then again, their time going down it was on a bike at a speed only cars should reach – eventually nearing the intersection they'd careened through earlier.
At Yang's suggestion that they avoid the intersection, lest they get asked for autographs as a result of their internet fame (Blake wasn't sure how common that was, but Yang assured her it had happened before), the pair took a side road to a different intersection, finding themselves near a line of waiting taxis.
Hopping into one had first held apprehensiveness over the truthfulness of the 'free rides' statement, but that quickly faded when the taxi driver recognized them both right off the bat, holding up a company-issued paper with their faces and names printed on it. Evidently, they were expected.
Blake realized that Yang hadn't been joking earlier when she'd stated that it was 'too far to walk, to short to taxi' the distance, as the cab ride lasted for only five minutes, at the most. The ride was mostly filled with silence, aside from a bit of small talk regarding Yang's new bruises, and Blake's chastisement when the blonde tried to fit her upper body out the window to yell at someone she recognized.
But beyond those small interactions, the cab ride flew by, the two women finding themselves at their destination mere minutes later. The taxi pulled up to the curb, letting the pair emerge from the backseat – Yang had tried to call shotgun, before she remembered the handcuffs handicap – before it whisked itself away in a blur of taillights.
"I think that's the first time I got out of a cab and wasn't hassled about my fare," Yang commented absentmindedly, before they turned to face the building they'd stopped in front of.
Bright, tacky neon lights assaulted Blake's eyes, a loud, thrumming bass beat triggering her sense of hearing. There was a long line out front of the club, stretching along the closed storefronts, a large gathering of people waiting to be let into the busy bar. There wasn't much to the club's front; the solid brick wall was painted fully black, with only one thing adorning it: a large neon sign, broadcasting the name of the club.
"Junior's?" Blake read aloud, casting a glance to the blonde at her side as she spoke. Yang didn't reply, instead choosing to glare darkly at the building, clearly reliving a past event in her mind. Blake gave her a minute to muse on the past, before she shook her hand slightly, rattling the chains.
Yang blinked, drawn from her thoughts, looking to Blake in slight surprise.
"This is it?" the dark haired woman asked, tilting her head in the direction of the building.
"Yup," Yang replied flatly, letting the 'p' pop as she finished the word.
"Junior's?" Blake repeated, looking at the obnoxiously bright sign.
"Yup."
"This is where you got kicked out?"
"… Yup."
A paused.
"So, how're we going to get in?"
At this, Yang blinked – it appeared she hadn't really thought that out, either. Blake glanced at the line, then at the tall bouncer at the front of it – he didn't look like someone they particularly wanted to cross.
"… Can we even get past that bouncer?"
Yang glanced at the sprawling line, her eyes travelling across the waiting clubees until they rested on the bouncer at the front. Immediately, recognition lit up in her eyes, igniting a look that Blake no longer full trusted, at least not after their near-death ride. It was the look of an idea.
Before Blake could ask 'what are you planning and how much could I pay you to stop it,' Yang's face broke into a grin and the blonde set off towards the bouncer, tugging Blake gently along behind her.
"Hey, Mercury!" she called as they neared the man, the bouncer blinking at the sudden sound of his name. Gunmetal eyes latched onto them, a sly grin breaking onto his face as Yang waved enthusiastically.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said as they drew up to him, reaching up a hand to high five Yang, "what are you doing around here? I could have sworn Junior threw you out on your ass for good."
"Yeah, but since when do I listen to men with patchy beards?" Yang replied with a wicked grin, dropping her hand from the high five. Mercury laughed, the sound hollow as he shook his head slightly.
"You've got balls, blondie," he grinned, "probably more than half the goons in there have."
"Yup, and I have to go on in there and prove it."
A gray eyebrow rose at the comment, Mercury relaxing into a slouched stance as he regarded the blonde before him.
"You want to go in there," he stated flatly, receiving a confirming nod, before he continued.
"Into the place filled with a ton of people who would love nothing more than a second chance to beat your blonde ass."
"Thanks for making it sound like a kink, but yes."
"Hey, you're the one wearing the handcuffs. What you get up to in your spare time is none of my business, I'm just stating what I see."
"Screw you, Mercury."
"No, thank you, I've taken a vow of abstinence."
Yang sighed in exasperation.
"Now I see why Emerald's always complaining about you," she muttered darkly.
"Hey, Emerald has her faults too. Did you know that last week she brought home books from the library, and none of them had pictures? None of them. Not one."
"Yes, your life is so hard."
"Glad you understand," Mercury grinned, crossing his arms behind his back, "but seriously, you actually want into the club?"
Yang sighed, holding up her chained hand.
"Unfortunately, yes," she replied, "my dingbat friends set us up on a date, and now the only way out of these is to go in there and do some stupid task."
"Ooh, kinky."
Yang swore under her breath, Mercury grinning like a fox, turning to Blake.
"More importantly, though," he said, addressing the dark haired woman, "do you understand what it means to go in there? What this blonde idiot got herself into?"
Blake blinked, shooting a quick glance to Yang, who was scowling at her boots.
"She… hasn't explained the specifics, but yes," Blake replied, "I know of the danger we're getting in to."
Mercury whistled, his eyebrows shooting high.
"Are you're not trying to saw through your handcuffs to avoid getting in there? Damn, Yang, I'd say this one's a keeper."
Yang grumbled something unintelligible as Mercury leaned in towards Blake, raising one hand to hide his words as he pointed the other towards Yang.
"Make sure she explains the specifics to you," he spoke, "that's a story I never get tired of hearing.
"Alright, alright," Yang muttered darkly, interrupting the pair, "Mercury, are you going to let us in or not?"
"Hmmm…" Mercury pretended to muse on that thought for a good three seconds, before he smiled cunningly, "alright, I don't see why not."
"Possible gang brawl isn't a reason as to 'why not?'"
Mercury waved his hand dismissively at Blake's question.
"This job isn't overly exciting," he explained, "I could use a little action, and I'll definitely get it if I send Blondie over here in there again. So, I don't see why not!"
"Thanks, Merc," Yang replied, "I owe you one for this."
"Nah," Mercury answered, "seriously, you're providing me with entertainment. I should be thanking you."
"Actually, how did you get stuck on door duty? Lost a bet?"
"Hardy-har. Yes. Don't ask me any more questions about it."
Yang snorted, lifting a blonde eyebrow.
"Well, this can't be worse than that time Emerald made you wear only lingerie to the supermarket."
"Hey, I have fantastic abs, so at least the women there got a free show out of it."
Yang rolled her eyes, Mercury leaning backwards slightly to look throught the glass door that led into the club.
"Alright," he said a moment later, "one of the red-glasses is standing nearby, so I can't let you in yet. When the coast is clear, I'll gesture for you to come in, alright?"
Yang and Blake both nodded, Mercury smiling slyly at them. He made a 'shoo' gesture with his hands, speaking quickly.
"Okay, go get out of sight. Last thing I want is for my night of entertainment to be spoiled because you two were found standing out in the open."
Yang rolled her eyes but complied, moving with Blake to stand in the line, hidden by the other club-goers around them. They stood in silence for a brief moment, letting the ambience of the crowd soak in. Then Blake broke the silence.
"So?"
Yang cocked an eyebrow in confusion over the sudden phrase.
"So, what?" she inquired.
"So, what's the story?" Blake clarified, "about you getting thrown out of this place?"
Yang sighed heavily, knowing that her time of dodging the question was up.
"Well, you see…"
The blonde trailed off for a moment, raising a hand to scratch the back of her neck as she figured out just how to explain the reasons for one's destruction and banishment from a club.
"It's a long story," Yang began, "so I'll summarize it for you."
Blake narrowed her eyes but didn't interrupt; Yang took it as a sign to continue.
"See, the guys in there have some pretty big egos. 'Macho gang' and whatnot. I came in here a few years ago with some friends, had a great night, sangrias and margaritas and what not – and then one of my friends remarked loudly that I was pretty strong, and could beat anyone in an arm wrestling match."
At the disbelieving glare Blake shot her way, Yang held up her hands defensively.
"Hey, she said it, not me! I was just, er, collateral damage. Anyways, because she said it so loudly, some of the guys around us heard – and, well, being a macho gang and all, they couldn't let that challenge go ignored. I ended up facing off against every damn gang member in that place; beat them all."
Blake blinked slowly before replying.
"So, how did that end up with you destroying the club?"
"Well…" Yang said, wincing slightly as she prepared for Blake's inevitable reaction, "some of the guys got really upset that I was beating them; a couple convinced me of cheating, though you really can't cheat in an arm wrestling match – and after a lot of shouting and stuff, a fight broke out."
Yang shot a glance to the front of the line; Mercury was still standing there, looking inside periodically, waiting for the opportunity to call them in.
"And yeah, it pretty much escalated from there," the blonde continued, "the gang guys fought with one another and the people in the club – and things really hit the fan when they punched out a leader of an opposing gang, which… kind of led to a turf war? Or at least a lot of drunken gang signs being thrown up which, honestly, kind of looked like sexual gestures more than anything else."
"Do you associate hand gestures with sexual meanings often?" Blake asked sarcastically, earning herself a lilac glare.
"No, but thank you for asking," Yang shot back, before she shook her head slightly and looked back at her partner, all traces of offence gone.
"To finish off the story, though, things got a bit too crazy when I jumped behind the bar for some cover. At that point everything was basically wrecked, and I realized that someone had set off a fire behind the bar – it was small and all, probably from some crook's cigarette lighter or even just what they used to make the flaming shots, but…"
Blake finished for her.
"Alcohol and fire don't mix."
Yang nodded solemnly.
"Pretty much," the blonde finished, "most people had fled the bar at that point, and those that weren't were quick to run when I started yelling 'fire,' but even then we couldn't do much about the flames. Junior's a cheapass, so all of his fire extinguishers expired years ago; I'm pretty sure he pays off the inspector every year. Either way, we couldn't put out the fire, the bar went up in flames, and…"
"The club was destroyed."
Yang nodded at Blake's declaration, shrugging slightly as she did so.
"I got banned from ever coming back, after that," she explained, "all because of an arm wrestling match."
Blake hummed in understanding, looking curiously at the blonde. Silence fell for a minute or so, until Blake broke it once more.
"Alright, what's the real story?"
Yang blinked, looking down at her partner.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Blake smirked, cocking an eyebrow at the blonde.
"I know you're lying, Yang," she said, her smirk growing at the look of poorly-concealed surprise and guilt on the woman's face, "so how'd you really get banned from Junior's?"
Yang took a second to contemplate this change of events, blinking as her brain tried to deal with the fact her lie had been discovered.
"How… did you know?" the blonde asked lamely, after she'd had enough time to allow her brain to reboot and install updates.
Blake laughed mirthfully, finding no small amusement in the blonde's perplexed expression.
"Your right eyebrow twitches whenever you're lying," Blake explained at a moment, watching as complete shock passed over Yang's face.
"You picked up on that?" Yang asked in surprise, lilac eyes widening.
"… Yes?" Blake replied, "It's not exactly hard to miss."
"Ruby still hasn't picked up on that," Yang answered, still staring at Blake in astonishment. There was silence, as the dark haired woman mused on this point. Yang continued to speak.
"She's my sister."
More silence.
"She lived with me for seventeen years."
Blake laughed again as Yang shook her head in disbelief, sighing loudly.
"Blake Belladonna," she said seriously, "you are one perceptive woman."
Blake grinned at that, then paused, an afterthought coming to her. She glanced up at the blonde, tilting her head slightly before she spoke.
"You are too, it seems," Blake responded, prompting a look of confusion from the blonde, "I never told you my last name."
Yang froze, silence falling between them before the blonde scratched at her freckles awkwardly and explained.
"Sun gave it away," she explained, "and your bracelet helped me put it together."
Blake blinked at that, glancing down at her free wrist, on which hung the simple, woven bracelet she'd had since childhood. The letters 'B.B.' were etched into the leather strap, but Blake couldn't see how that had given Yang the name. Blake looked back up to Yang, quirking an eyebrow to prompt her to continue. Continue the blonde did.
"It's what he said when he called us," she explained, "'Don to the Donna, Beauty to the Beast?' That's got nothing to do with me, so I figured it had to do with you."
The blonde paused, pointing to her bracelet.
"Blake is Old Mistralian, right?" she asked, receiving a surprised but curious nod from the woman in question, "well, under that logic, 'beauty' would translate to 'bella,' and I already had the 'donna' from Sun. Since your bracelet says 'B.B.' and not 'B.D.,' I figured it was Belladonna."
She rubbed the bridge of her nose as she finished.
"Of course, I could have gotten it wrong – it could have been Belladon, or even something completely different, but I figured it was worth the guess."
Both of Blake's eyebrows had risen at that point, surprised etched clear into the woman's features. She didn't want to admit that she had been underestimating her blonde compatriot, but it appeared that in some ways, she had – Yang was far, far more perceptive than Blake had expected of the woman.
But for all her perceptiveness, Yang was not a good liar – nor was she any good at subtly changing the subject.
"I'm impressed," Blake commented, smirking slightly at the radiant grin that passed onto Yang's face, "but did you really think you could change the subject that easily?"
The speed at which Yang's smile fell caused Blake to laugh lightly.
"I hoped you would forget about that," Yang muttered under her breath as Blake's giggles faded out.
"Nice try, but no," Blake answered, tilting her head as she spoke, "now, out with it. What did you really do to get banned from this place?"
Lilac eyes drifted up to meet amber.
"You really want to know?"
A dark eyebrow perked.
"I wouldn't be asking so much if that were the case."
Yang sighed heavily, drawing a hand through her hair to push back her bangs.
"Fine," she said dejectedly, "but lean in. I hate telling this one too loud, because people always laugh at me when they hear it."
Blake complied, Yang closing the small distance between the pair to whisper into her ear. The blonde spoke for a minute or so, quickly summarizing the story – when the words reached their end, Blake pulled away, looking at the blonde with a mixture of disbelief and shock. Yang looked back at her warily, uncertainty dancing in her eyes.
After a brief pause, Blake spoke.
"You're telling me," she began, Yang already cutting her off with the answer.
"Yup."
Blake continued on anyways.
"That you got kicked out of this club."
"Yup."
"For playing twenty-one repeats of Tom Jones' 'What's New Pussycat?'"
Her volume increased at the end of the sentence, drawing the attention of those immediately around them.
"Yes," Yang hissed, shooting glances at the nearby club-goers before she paused, her brow furrowing as an afterthought occurred to her, "No, wait, only twenty repeats. I threw in a 'It's Not Unusual' around the seventh play or so, just to shake things up."
Blake could only stare at Yang in utter disbelief as she slowly took in the admittance, the blonde herself waiting for the inevitable reaction. She didn't have to wait long.
Blake burst into uproarious laughter, Yang wincing as she did so, the sound bouncing off of the club's front and around in the empty street. Several passerby glanced at the cackling woman, Yang desperately trying to quell Blake's mirth.
"Shhhh!" Yang hissed, trying to wave her hands in a placating manner at the dark haired woman, "I know it's funny, but please, try to control yourself!"
"Y-you," Blake forced out around snickers, "got kicked out of the club… because of Tom Jones?"
Yang scowled as Blake launched into another peel of laughter.
"See, this is why I stick to the arm-wrestling story," the blonde said flatly, watching as Blake wiped a tear of mirth away from the corned of her eye. She regarded the dark haired woman, peering at her with great scrutiny.
"You done?" Yang asked, as Blake let out the last of her chuckles.
"Yeah, I think I am," the woman replied, though the mere answer had her nearly launching back into another round of cackles, "but really, can you go over it again? I still can't wrap my head around it."
Yang sighed heavily in exasperation, but complied.
"It's pretty much the same as the arm wrestling story," she muttered, "just the way it started is different. There was still the flaming bar, the turf war – it just started because people were accusing one another of having put in all the songs to play in the first place. I put in the twenty one plays because I thought it'd be funny – and don't get me wrong, it was hilarious, but it also drove everyone inside insane."
The blonde paused, thinking back on the memory.
"I think the best part was when the other song came on, and everyone thought it was over – then 'What's New Pussycat' began again, and everyone lost it."
She grinned, clearly reminiscing fondly.
"That moment was fantastic."
Blake lifted an eyebrow at the blonde's reminiscing.
"But the bar fight and everything else, was that quite as fantastic?"
Yang winced slightly at that.
"Not really," she admitted, "but now you see why Mercury loves the story so much."
"Yes, I can see why he does…" Blake mused, before she glanced back up to Yang, "I do have one question, though."
Blonde eyebrows rose in intrigue.
"Shoot."
"Was it worth it?"
Yang blinked at the unexpected question, before her face split into a wide grin.
"Absolutely."
Blake rolled her eyes, but any other commentary she might have had was cut off by the sudden call of a name.
"Yo, Yang! Coast is clear!"
"Finally," Yang muttered, as the pair moved to meet Mercury at the door. The gray haired man regarded the pair as they came towards them, the smirk on his face revealing that he'd heard Blake's earlier bouts of laughter.
"She told you, didn't she?" he asked, receiving a grin and a nod from the woman in reply.
"Oh, she did," Blake replied, "the real story, not the fake one."
Mercury looked up at Yang in surprise over that, eyebrows risen.
"You managed to coax it out of her?" he remarked, "man, not a lot of people can do that. Yang, I think you're whipped."
Yang growled at the man, who chuckled and let the conversation go, instead moving to open the heavy glass door.
"Okay, here's the thing," he said as they moved to enter, barring their entry with his arm, "if anyone asks, I did not let you in there, alright?"
Yang rolled her eyes, but nodded, Blake doing the latter as well. Mercury grinned slyly at them at that, lowering his arm to let them pass through.
"Alright then," he continued, "ladies, have fun in there. You… don't let Yang anywhere near the jukebox. And Yang? Try not to set the bar on fire, this time."
Yang scowled, moving through the door without comment, Blake tagging along behind her. Mercury winked at the pair as the door closed behind them, and they found themselves on the top of a stairway that led down towards darkness, with a faint pink glow visible below. The music volume had increased exponentially, and Blake could feel the bass thrumming in her bones, the steady beat pumped through the entire building.
Yang glanced at Blake, lilac finding amber in the gloom.
"You ready?" the blonde asked, Blake nodding resolutely in reply.
The pair descended, cautiously making their way down the stairs, keeping from losing their step in the dark. As they drew closer, the music growing ever louder, Blake nudged Yang's shoulder with her own, speaking loudly so as to be heard.
"Do you know what we should be looking for?"
"Sort of," Yang replied, just as loudly, "I'm guessing one of our idiotic friends is waiting here – and since the one place you can really sit and talk to someone is around the bar, our best bet is to look there first!"
Blake nodded, though she wasn't sure that the blonde woman saw the action in the dark. Those worries were put out of her head in the next second, however, as they reached the bottom of the staircase and rounded the corner, the club below them.
Bright lights and loud music assaulted Blake's eyes and ears, the woman wincing at the new atmosphere. People were everywhere within the club, dancing and grinding on the floor, gathered along the edges of the walls and in the neon light booths at the sides. Blake paused, unsure of where to go – but Yang already knew, tugging her gently along behind her, making her way through the throngs of people.
All of a sudden, Yang stopped; Blake bumped into her back at the sudden halt, muttering apologies, though Yang didn't seem to notice them. The blonde had frozen in her tracks – Blake peered over her shoulder, seeing in front of them the bar that Yang had mentioned. Only one person sat there, no bartender in sight – a burly, tank top wearing brunette, staring pointedly towards the pair. He didn't seem all that imposing to Blake, but Yang seemed to think otherwise – seeing the blonde's reaction, the boy lifted a hand in welcome, waving the pair over.
"Cardin," Yang growled, voice almost too quiet for Blake to catch in the noisy room. Blake glanced at her partner, then back to the boy – whatever had riled Yang up this much, especially when not even the prospect of returning to the club had rattled her so greatly, was nothing to be trifled with.
For a moment, Blake felt herself worry over whatever might be awaiting them – then her eyes fell upon a jukebox in the corner of the club, half obscured by a group of standing people, and Yang's story leapt back into her head.
In the face of whatever terrified Yang, Blake couldn't help but snicker.
A/N: Hello again! I return from my absence (so much for my 'daily updates') with a brand new bumblebee chapter, and a new white rose one on the way. I'm afraid there's not much but exposition for our lovely pair in this chapter - but believe me, they'll be faced with a LOT more, coming up shortly. Are you excited? I'm excited.
A bit about the chapter, though - Yang's 'club' story is actually based upon a wonderful story called "The Salt and Pepper Diner" by John Mulaney; if you've never heard if it, look it up and listen to it. Totally worth your time, I promise. I also like to wonder if Remnant has an equivalent of Tom Jones - and if that's the case, does it mean Yang sings 'what's new, pussycat?' to Blake sometimes? I ask the important questions. See you in the next chapter!