Chapter Ten: Revelations and Rumours
At seven the following morning, Qrow awoke after the surgeons removed the bullet from his guts and patched the wound up. He saw an extremely haggard Ruby asleep in a chair opposite him, and Yang snoozing on the floor to his right.
"Ugh," he groaned while taking stock of his surroundings. "This'll be fun to explain to my boss."
At once, Yang and Ruby awoke, concern evident in their drowsy eyes.
"How are you feeling?", Ruby asked quietly.
Qrow chuckled in pained amusement.
"I've eaten curries that gave my bowels more grief than this."
Upon hearing that, both his nieces laughed warmly and softly; they knew their dear old uncle would pull through just fine after his display of gallows humour.
As Qrow started to relax half an hour later, Blake and Pyrrha met up with Yang and Ruby, congregating outside for a much-needed and Blake-provided drinks break.
"So," Blake began with beer in her mouth, "there's something that came up while you two drove Qrow here. Pyrrha, care to hand over the note that you found in the garage?"
Pyrrha nodded, fishing it out of her purse and giving it to Yang and Ruby to pore over. After a minute, Yang returned the note and responded.
"Whoever wrote this note must've seen something. Was it one of the neighbours?"
Blake shook her head.
"No. The police came not long after you three left and interviewed us. None of our neighbours within three doors of us saw the vehicle – but all of them heard the shot, and the Robertsons across the road from us heard the same laughter we did."
The mere mention of that laughter upped Ruby's anger. She was determined to butcher the living daylights out of the arsehole who shot Qrow. Despite him not being a blood relative of hers, the barrister had welcomed her into his family as easily as Yang had done in 1978. Ruby therefore considered him as an honorary uncle of hers, and felt the overriding urge to chuck a sickie and use the time to hunt the bastard down herself.
The note they received, however, would prove useful to Yang – providing the idiot was stupid enough to actually try and sell off the car before he got caught. Stifling her vengeance for the moment, Ruby spoke up after a swig of the Cooper's.
"Yang, it might be worth scouring the classified ads for this white Volvo 340. Given the laughter, this guy might be stupid enough to try selling it."
Yang smirked as her response came.
"A crate of Pale Ale says he keeps the P1NC3R5 plates on there."
Ruby laughed heartily.
"You're on."
Blake took this as her cue to re-enter the debate.
"There's something else that needs to be discussed. After last night's events, it's become clear that we need to change tactics. They got Ruby's address from someone, and I'd like that loose end dealt with quickly and efficiently. The question is; who supplied that information?"
Ruby looked distinctly uncomfortable, and pierced the elephant in the room with a verbal harpoon.
"Neo's squealed."
Pyrrha, who'd remained silent until that point, gasped and responded furiously.
"What?! How can you suggest such a vile course of action?!"
Ruby held Pyrrha's hands in her own and looked … almost embarrassed.
"Remember what Cinder told Blake and Jaune about Roman? She said that Neo was with him."
Blake facepalmed angrily.
"Of fucking course."
"Well," Ruby continued, "when I saw Roman's compound, level of security, and Neo's absence within the funeral party, I surmised that she was captured. After all, these plans would have occurred straight after the bikie war finished, had she willingly sold us out. What this means is that she's finally caved in after three months of captivity. Either way, we'll need to get her out of there before someone else gets targeted."
There wasn't much worth adding to the evidence pile after that, and the other three women nodded in acquiescence.
"You're absolutely right, Ruby," Pyrrha admitted, "but we'll need to deal with this shooter as well. How should we proceed?"
Blake concentrated for a minute, holding her hands outstretched in front of her so her subordinates got the hint. Finally, she opened her eyes, and turned towards Yang.
"Yang, you and Cinder are to track the bastard down. When either of you find out his name, inform me. I'll then signal Ruby, Ren, and Ren's crew to assist Yang in making him suffer."
Yang nodded mutely, and Blake turned to Ruby and Pyrrha.
"Pyrrha, I'll have you prepare an area for the butchery. As for you, Ruby, I'll entrust you with monitoring the Torchwick compound for any activity. If you see anything incriminating or weird, take a picture of the evidence and run to me."
Her three lieutenants nodded silently, and Blake walked back inside to watch over Qrow in Ruby's stead while Pyrrha took the sisters to their respective jobs.
At twelve that day, Qrow was discharged with strict bed-rest orders for the remainder of the week. This was something the perennial workaholic and part-time alcoholic didn't take kindly to, as Blake learned to her suffering while navigating her Corona towards his house on Kuchinashi Avenue.
" … As I was saying, the bed rest is bad enough, but I can't fucking drink because the meds won't work. I mean … "
Blake gritted her teeth and turned south onto his home street. For fuck's sake, she mentally groused, I've killed people who didn't complain this much. Finally, she pulled into her driveway and led Qrow inside with his medication, remaining only to call Yang and request her help in dealing with the cranky codger.
Having made it back home not long after Yang arrived to watch over Qrow's convalescence, Blake retreated to her war room, once again in a frenzy. She took out a pad of lined A4 paper, retrieved a pencil and started writing rather shakily about the plan against Qrow's attacker, along with a second plan for after the whole affair was concluded. She kept at it for five hours straight, having brought home some Chinese to go, and had just finished writing when the phone went off downstairs. I'd better see who that is, she reasoned. For all I know, Yang and Cinder might've gotten lucky already. She clambered down the stairs briskly, massaging some feeling into her right hand and wrist as she retrieved the phone off of it's cradle.
"Hello?"
"Ready for your weekly dose of sunshine?"
Blake smirked smugly; her new man was both eager and easy to please. "When am I not?"
"Of course, sugarplum! Does mine at 7 work out for you?"
"It sure does," Blake replied, not wanting her lover to see anything incriminating.
"Cool beans. See you then!"
As she hung up, Blake realised she had another reason for the second plan she'd been authoring that afternoon. Yes, he's definitelya part of why I'm even considering this move, and there will be questions asked about it. But the results will be worth it. He will be worth it.
As Blake finished her work and prepared herself, her paramour was in a cleaning frenzy at his bungalow at the north-eastern corner of Windpath Drive. Sun had always been a perennial people-pleaser, so one can imagine his extreme fervour when his better half agreed to come over to his house in two hour's time.
Mercifully, both the bathroom and bedroom were deemed to be clean enough when he got home, and the laundry had been professionally cleaned after the whole debacle with the washing machine. The first thing he'd done when he arrived home was ring Blake, before picking up the broom and sweeping his floors.
He then cleared off the detritus from his coffee table, and prepared the scented candles for the pending tryst in his bedroom after making his bed and piling his dirty clothes in his wicker basket. At present, he was setting the dining room table and preparing a three-point candelabra, doing the last thing he could think of before the daunting task of cooking Blake's favourite meal.
"Of all the bloody things a restaurateurcould've called her favourite dish," Sun whinged as he finished the setting and walked to his kitchen, "it just had to be spaghetti with tuna and lemon."
Pulling out the recipe he'd written down at her restaurant, he brought the water to boil in his pot and threw in the spaghetti. During the nine minutes it took to cook up the pasta, he finely chopped up half a red onion and crushed some garlic, cooking it in extra virgin until it softened after draining the pasta.
Taking the pan off the heat, he added the pasta, along with flaked tuna, chopped parsley and lemon rind. Tossing the combination of foods thoroughly, he added only a pinch of pepper to the mix before he was satisfied with the results. As he took a moment to throw on a clean shirt and light the candles, the sound of Blake's Corona pulling into his driveway jolted his senses.
"Well, here goes nothing," he muttered as he opened the door with his suit jacket on his finger, then he fell silent as he beheld Blake.
She wore a bow on her head, looking like the cat ears that she'd worn last month had stayed on. A white dress shirt was nigh invisible underneath her dress; it was black-and-black check, stopped above her knees, and had sleeves that ended halfway between the shoulder and elbow. A pair of black ankle boots adorned her feet, with thick dark purple stockings completing the look. Her appearance reminded Sun of an all-grown-up Wednesday Addams, and his tan two-piece suit made him look amateurish in comparison. The fact he'd neglected to shave didn't help his case either, but Blake wasn't picky on this occasion.
"Hey, sea-monkey," Blake purred sultrily as Sun lead her in.
"Hey, kitten," the blonde replied. "Dinner's just finished, so feel free to take a seat when you're ready."
Blake gave her lover a leery smile as he helped her into her seat. Sun then removed the two pan lids that he'd used to keep the food warm, and then reached behind him and retrieved two bottles of Cooper's Pale. Striking a dramatic pose, he held the colder bottle towards his woman and hammed it up.
"O Blakey, my Blakey! Time to enjoy your daily dose of tuna and beer."
Blake smiled and laughed warmly; she'd never met a man who could be so goofy, yet so gentlemanly at the same time.
"You crawler!", she said between laughs, causing him to break out in laughter as he sat down.
Dinner proved to be a pleasant affair for the both of them. Blake had never met a single person who could get her father's tuna pasta recipe correct before today; she'd consequently found that Sun could surprise her in ways she'd never expected. Even though the surprises she'd dealt with in her line of her work left her wary of them in day-to-day life, the mafioso was impressed that Sun could throw together something so good so quickly, and she'd made sure to say so.
However, Sun's hastily-arranged night in meant that he'd neglected to file an important request for Chief Inspector Goodwitch, and Velvet had to stay behind to fill the form out. She wasn't terribly happy about this either, and was fuming silently as she grabbed a pen from Goodwitch's hand. I'm going to call into Sun's place and give him a blast for this, she mentally growled as she tore into the request form. As Velvet hopped to work, her intended victim was leading Blake towards his bedroom.
"Ta-da!", he chorused while opening the door. An aroma of rose petals and belladonna lilies flitted into the Italian's nostrils, and she was enraptured from the start. The fact that Sun's room was neater than it had ever been was a bonus.
"Sun, this is amazing. All for me, too," she said dreamily as he smiled.
"Of course; nothing but the best for my beloved Belladonna!"
Blake laughed heartily at the wordplay, as she coiled her arm around Sun's chiselled shoulders as they kicked off their respective shoes.
"You weren't kidding when you offered me my weekly dose of sunshine, Sun. Think it's time to lighten the tension?"
Sun had known Blake long enough to catch her drift, and played along.
"Sure; it'll satisfy you, but it could kill you."
Blake blinked as she processed the joke, then laughed hard for a brief second.
"Well," she purred seductively, "I'll take those chances."
Sun nodded eagerly, then removed his shirt and pants at breakneck speed, prompting Blake to ditch her dress and stockings as well. Soon enough, both lovers were fully nude, with Sun's member standing proudly to attention.
"Lead the way, you funky monkey!"
Sun nodded, slipping on some protection before leading her gently to the bed, and proceeding to start the loudest sexual escapade in the Vale's history.
By this point, a rather vexed detective had just parked her motorcycle in the street outside her superior's house. Velvet walked up briskly to the front door, and knocked three times. Neither of the occupants heard the noise, but Sun's unwitting response was called out loud enough to carry to Velvet's ears – ten minutes later.
"I'm coming! Oh dammit, I'mcoming!"
Velvet had waited long enough. She opened the door swiftly, and found herself listening to her boss shagging the living daylights out of a black-haired woman. By the sounds of it, both of them were climaxing at "The Who"-level volumes. Not wishing to interrupt them, Velvet quietly shut the door and walked outside, waiting for ten minutes before a raven-haired vixen walked towards the purple Corona parked in the driveway.
Just looking at her gave Velvet the creeps, and she was lucky to avoid detection when Blake drove in the opposite direction. Removing her helmet, she then stormed up to the closed door and knocked as firmly as her slender wrists could allow. A rather haggard voice spoke to her, while the owner opened the door with closed eyes.
"Up for round two, sugarplum?"
Velvet's response was a sharp rabbit punch to the man's nuts before storming off. Velvet didn't even hear her boss's rather pained realisation that he'd forgotten to fill in that vital piece of paperwork, and the resultant apologies.
The following morning, a rather bashful Sun walked timidly into his office at eight-thirty, and sat down silently while waiting for his second-in-command to chew him out for his forgetfulness. To his surprise, however, there was no trace of anger visible on Velvet's face as she entered five minutes later. Promptly shutting the door, she sat down and faced the strangest sight she'd beheld in Atlas Terrace Station; her leader looked positively emasculated. His shoulders were sagged and he looked utterly miserable.
"Sun," Velvet said carefully, "I know you're immensely sorry for forgetting to file that request to stake out at Roman's compound."
"I know. Is there anything else to discuss?"
Velvet then gave him her attention.
"Why were you screwing that creep when I walked in?"
That was likely the worst thing for Sun to have heard at that point, but Velvet wasn't letting him avoid criticism for his behaviour. Still, his hackles rose again in defence of his love.
"Velvet, that's not fair. Blake's never struck me as creepy; quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. Why, do you take her for a criminal in disguise or something?"
Now, it was Velvet's turn to get defensive, and she held her hands up to calm her boss down.
"I'm not saying that she's a criminal, Sun – truthfully, I don't know what she does with her life outside running the Vytal. I'm just saying that I felt something off about her when I walked in, like she just reeked of danger."
Sun considered Velvet's words for a moment. As intelligent, warm and gorgeous as Blake was, he knew that Velvet's skill at reading people was second to none in his line of work. If Velvet said that she got the creeps from Blake, then he now knew better than to get too close to her. Conceding her point, Sun slumped forward in his chair.
"Maybe you're right, Velvet. But I'm still feeling conflicted about the whole shebang. She's never treated me with anything but kindness and love, and I've never felt unwelcome in her company."
Velvet's expression softened in response.
"I'm sure that's true, Sun. I'm just advising you to be careful around her, for everybody's sake."
At eleven-thirty that morning, Yang was poring the pages of the Daily Telegraph for used cars. She'd never be caught dead reading this paper in public, being borderline socialist in view, so she usually stashed it in her private office before anyone else saw it and mocked her for it. The Morning Herald was already leafed through, and Yang had located a number of prospective cars for her crew to do up in the coming weeks. She was half a page in when Roy dashed into the office, holding an advertisement he'd found on a noticeboard in the local supermarket.
"Boss, is this the Volvo you wanted to find?"
Yang grabbed the piece of paper and smirked.
"Yep; that's the one! Thanks Roy!"
Tyrian had posted an image of the car, complete with P1NC3R5 licence plates, and listed his address and an asking price. What an idiot, Yang crowed. Of course he's too bloody cheap to put in a notice for the classifieds.
Pyrrha, meanwhile, was cleaning out the basement that lay beneath her end of the dealership. She was planning the killing floor's layout when Yang jumped downstairs and ran to her in a daze.
"The arsehole's selling the car off!", Yang breathed, clearly having run at breakneck pace to pass the news.
Pyrrha nodded.
"That's very good to hear. Could you please summon Ren and his crew to help me finish preparations?"
"You got it, Pyrrha. I'll meet up with the creep and arrange to buy it at six this evening; I'd like to have Ruby and Ren's section of the gang waiting near me by then."
Pyrrha hesitated, then nodded in reply.
"I'll tell Ren and his men when they arrive, and I'll ring Ruby when lunch gets called."
Yang beamed as she walked towards the stairs.
"Good to hear! I'll be back here as soon as I can."
At the stroke of twelve o'clock, Yang walked towards the address on Patch and Signal's south-western corner. She'd changed out of her grey work uniform and settled on a sun-yellow dress and black pumps, with her long, curly mullet swinging behind her in the breeze. Her sunglasses hid the palpable expression of disgust when she saw Tyrian Callows outside his house.
The house itself wasn't in bad shape, but it was as lower class as it got in the Vale and the garden had definitely seen better days. Much to Yang's silent alarm, Tyrian himself was sitting cross-legged in his front yard, smiling crazily with his eyes closed. He wore a white singlet, with matching khakis and brown suspenders. A pair of brown ugg boots adorned his feet, while his hair was cropped short … except for a inch-wide rat's tail that flew to his abdomen.
The crazed expression on his face and his strange posture was very off-kilter, and Yang was forced to push her hackles down before talking to him.
"You're offering $1000 for that Volvo, I take it?"
Tyrian jumped to his feet and turned his gaze onto Yang, who fought the urge to back away from his bugged-out amber eyes and leery smile.
"Why yes, deary. Are you willing to buy it now?"
"Well," Yang replied, "I'm looking to buy it for my sister. I'm convinced this is good enough, but she'd want to see it before deciding on it."
Tyrian nodded understandingly.
"That sounds fair."
"She'll be knocking off of work around five, so we'll swing around at say, six o'clock?"
Thankfully, the man hadn't taken any meth so far that day, and was consequently in a relatively calm mood. "Of course! Anything for you, gorgeous!"
It took all of Yang's willpower to force a smile and walk away. At five to six that evening, a doped-up Tyrian was keeping a lookout to the west of his house when a woman called out to him.
"Excuse me?"
Tyrian, slightly startled, turned to face the new voice with a vicious grin. An angry pair of silver eyes was the last thing he saw before a well-timed punch to the head rendered him unconscious.
A/N: Apologies for the short chapter; the employment provider I got assigned to made me go on a three-week course for job hunting and other minutiae, so I couldn't write the sexual escapade that I wanted to do.
As you all know by now, Volume Five's already started, and I'm glad I got the first membership months ago. The Weiss vs. Lancers fight was amazing, and I'm intrigued as to how Hazel's story line pans out.
And last, an announcement: I'm due to release an album (or an album demo, at least) of ten original songs during November. The album will be called "Mantras For Modern Times", under the band name of Dawnforest. It'll be up on iTunes for purchase, so feel free to have a look!
Anyway, I'll see you all at the end of November. Hope you enjoyed the halfway mark to Goodbellas!