The Dark Knight Rises

"Four hours."

"No..."

"Yes. I timed it. Didn't even stop once."

Jaune sat back in muted stupefaction, the twilight hour nearly passing as the two students sat at a table on the roof of a Valean café. It wasn't too far inland, that with the smell of the mid-city docks still coming in every now and again with the breeze and all, but the rooftop balcony seating provided privacy. And the menu was pretty cheap. But with food far from his mind, Jaune simply ran his hand through his hair in disbelief.

"I... didn't even realize..."

Blake nodded understandingly from across the neat little wrought-iron coffee table between them, though it was in fact with a measure of disbelief as well, "I estimate that you were going at over fifteen miles per hour for over ninety of those minutes. Your resting speed would've been considered a brisk jog for most people... not an easy feat..."

Okay... so maybe Ozpin's training was seriously legit, after all.

"Except you circled the same four blocks eighty times," she then added flatly, Jaune's shoulders drooping as the pride from his accomplishment suddenly vanished.

Well, so much for that.

"Your orders, please?" a voice beckoned from the side, a tall, lanky waiter in standard garb for the profession appearing beside them with notebook in hand expectantly.

"I'm good with just a coffee," Jaune noted cordially, handing the waiter the menu, "Black. Very strong. Enough to stand a fork in it, if possible."

As the moment turned awkward while the waiter stared at Jaune, each of them with a hand on either end of the menu, Jaune let out a single nervous chuckle before breaking the silence, "Eheh... that was a joke. The strongest you have would be nice."

All business, the waiter simply gave the blonde a nod as if bad jokes were a usual occurrence in that area, unfazed as he turned to Blake and accepted her menu as well.

"Tea," she replied simply, the man giving a brief 'Thank You' to the pair of students before he took his leave and Blake glanced at Jaune with a raised brow, "I honestly never took you for a caffeine... enthusiast."

"I'm... not?" Jaune noted, thinking about it for a moment. Or was he? He wasn't quite sure, but the request he'd made still did seem to come awfully naturally of him, "Like I said, I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a long night."

A flat stare from the ravenette across him.

"C'mon, really? Save it for Yang," he added, waving off her expression as he gazed over the ledge beside their table that protected them from a forty-foot drop with naught but a decorative two-foot high iron parapet, "Don't blame me for wanting to be completely alert after the first time you started a conversation with me."

"That's ancient history, Jaune," she noted with what he could only guess was a very, very dry form of humor.

Logically, this influenced his deadpan as he continued, "Right. You didn't even have to threaten my life with stationery this time... or do you have a stapler hidden under your bow?"

"No," she stated softly, her voice almost airy as her bow seemed to twitch over her head, "Only what you've apparently already figured out..."

"Huh. Should've figured that," Jaune noted to himself, deciding it was likely wise to add something to his statement as her eyes furtively glanced back at him at the seemingly contradictory words, "I mean... you know, what type they were. Ears, horns-"

"Ears," she corrected suddenly with a sharper tone, Jaune a bit surprised now as she crossed her arms in front of the table between them, "And I didn't bring you here to talk about me. You've already learned more than you need to know."

Maybe it was the time he'd spent with Ruby and her team the first time around, or maybe it was the approximate year of life he'd spent around women in general that he wasn't related to, but what Jaune did next at Blake probably would've made his original self go paper white in fear: scoff.

"Seriously?" he questioned incredulously, foregoing the dangerous glare in her eye to repeat himself, "Seriously? Blake... Nora can fit seven pancakes in her mouth at once, Ren has a Dewey Decimal system set up in our room for his cookbooks, and Pyrrha snores in her sleep... the fact you're a Faunus shouldn't be any more strange or embarrassing than any of those things by far! Knowing you're a Faunus isn't, and shouldn't be, a bad thing... especially not a reason to go hiding who you are, either!"

Narrowing her eyes at the blonde in incredulous curiosity instead of the offence he might've expected, Blake simply waved her hand in the air as if tracing an invisible globe, "This fantasy world you live in, Jaune... does it have rides? Because unless you've missed the past eighty years of history, 'civilized' society isn't exactly the kindest place for Faunus anymore..."

Realizing that Blake actually responded to this kind of conversational tone - sadly enough - Jaune decided to go along with it like the games of 'Chicken' he remembered once playing with his sisters... so placing both hands on the table at either side of him, Jaune leaned forward a bit in his seat, ensuring to keep his gaze locked with hers.

"Then enlighten me."

A brief pause set in, Blake clearly getting the challenge in his tone as he sat back in his seat with crossed arms. Jaune knew for the life of himself that this was the most important part of the game... break the gaze, or break the resolve, and you were the Chicken. And that usually ended up with doing someone else's dishes for the week.

But not today!

Catching the sight of Blake, her posture rigid and eyes still narrowed in distrust, Jaune finally caught the first sign of a nervous tick - a split-second whetting of her lips like someone about to speak despite a dry mouth.

"I... find it hard to believe you would actually want to know more about me."

"You best believe it, as long as it isn't all small talk and weird looks," Jaune nodded placidly, knowing by her expression that he'd actually gained some advantage in the conversation even though she gave him a stern glare, "Yeah, like that. And I won't be the last one either, considering you have an entire team back in Beacon who'd love nothing more to get to know you, too. Even Weiss... once she gets over herself, which I promise won't take too long."

Dismissing the last part of it with a small roll of her eyes, Blake's gaze slowly dropped to the table as she seemed to mentally shake off whatever argument she had left against her next words, "Recent events aside... clearly, you now know I was once a part of the White Fang..."

She glanced up at him, somewhat surprised to simply see him silently nodding in confirmation of her statement as if he'd always known - as far as she knew, maybe he had, after realizing she was a Faunus in hiding - and with none of the expressions of disgust or antipathy that she would've expected. It was strangely reassuring as she continued, actually...

"I was a member for most of my life, actually. You could almost say I was born into it... Back then, things were different. In the ashes of war, the White Fang was meant to be a symbol of peace and unity between Humans and the Faunus."

"The... Great War, right?" Jaune interjected in curiosity, Blake giving him a small nod.

"That's right. It was the last time inequality was defined by socio-political standing instead of the characteristics that defined us," Blake replied somberly, "It was the last time Humans and Faunus fought shoulder to shoulder to defeat a common enemy aside from the Grimm."

Jaune frowned in thought, a stray question running through his mind that kept gnawing at him until finally making its way out, "Wasn't there... anyone... during the War who tried to keep it that way... who did what they could to promote equality among us after the war ended?"

"A few Generals," Blake noted helpfully, "Tacticians who saw the value in playing to the strengths of both Humans and Faunus..."

"And what about near the end of the war? Like, anyone who had a... huge win under their belt who might've held sway with the new Councils?"

Blake raised a brow in curiosity, "You mean like the Battle of Verdun?"

"Yeah... Verdun," he tested aloud, feeling something deep within confirming his hope that they were talking about the same thing, "Seems like a fitting name."

"Perhaps. But I'm afraid that one doesn't count," Blake admitted, Jaune's brows furrowing in question which prompted her to continue, "It was a decisive battle, but the man behind its execution disappeared... some people today still regard it as a fable, a means to personify the will of good versus evil by pitting the one against the many."

Jaune cocked his head to the side as the waiter came and promptly served them their drinks, taking his mug quickly and focusing back on Blake as he was interested in the topic for more than one reason now, "Oh yeah? And what do you think?"

"A bedtime story at best... Human's first act of racism in historical records at worst," she retorted unexpectedly, Jaune's face softening in confusion as she clasped her hands around her teacup and continued, "Though the closest records at the time imply that the enemy base of Verdun was taken single-handedly, it is said that the general had the aid of seven Faunus warriors, some of the precursors to Huntresses, to create a distraction before he began his raid."

"Huntresses?"

"Oh yes," Blake continued with evident pride both for her race and her gender, "And while the General's name was never known for sure, Menagerian records state that they were known colloquially as Luna and the Seven Stars. Some speculate that they learned their arts in the same temples; others wonder if they were even related. But what's known for sure is that in the most 'accredited' records available, edited by human historians, the contributions of the Seven Stars were omitted entirely - whether for the sake of embellishment or outright prejudice, I'll let you decide. The only mention of them in the Menagerian records after the war is that after the general disappeared, they either went back to repair the damages in the Faunus tribes of Menagerie or joined in the newly-incepted Huntsman Academies across the globe."

Jaune slumped a bit in his seat, sighing dejectedly at the world he might've left behind - if Ozpin was right, of course, "Man... and you'd think that they'd have learned their lesson. And then there's the Grimm... what more common an enemy can you have than that?"

"People rarely rise higher than their expectations. Sure, there were promises of peace, but after the war, all anyone wanted was for things to go back to the way they were... building families, contributing to society, dying in peace. The Grimm have always been around. The fight for survival may have distracted most from creating further unrest within the kingdoms, but the increments in treaties and advances in technologies never addressed the core fallacies in society after the war."

"So what happened after the war, then?"

With a now persistent level of intrigue at the knight, whose curiosity almost seemed to her like someone learning these things for the first time, she continued anyway, feeling good telling a story for someone who truly seemed so eager to hear it from her, "Well... of course, despite being promised equality, the Faunus were subjected to discrimination and hate. Humanity still thought of us as lesser beings. And so, the White Fang rose up as the voice of our people... And I was there. I was at the front of every rally. I took part in every boycott. I actually thought we were making a difference..."

Jaune watched her now, no longer having to provide subtle gestures for her to continue or auxiliary questions for her to elaborate as she finally let that emotional dam around her fall. And as he expected, it wasn't exactly pretty... watching how her fists instinctively balled on the table to the point of turning her knuckles white, he wondered how she would've vented all this before coming back to Beacon. Maybe she'd told this to her team or something before returning the first time around...

"But I was just a youthful optimist. Then, five years ago, our leader stepped down, and a new one took his place. A 'new' leader, with a 'new' way of thinking," she continued, the hints of a scowl warping her upper lip, "Suddenly, our peaceful protests were being replaced with organized attacks. We were setting fire to shops that refused to serve us, hijacking cargo from companies that used Faunus labor. And the worst part was, it was working. We were being treated like equals. But not out of respect... out of fear."

The tense moment remained as silence followed her words, Jaune fidgeting with his mug as he came to terms with the information until she sighed, regained her composure, and took a sip of tea.

"So, I left. I decided I no longer wanted to use my skills to aid in their violence, and instead, I would dedicate my life to becoming a Huntress. So here I am: a criminal hiding in plain view, all with the help of a little... black... bow."

Watching the bow above her head twitch indicatively - and admittedly, adorably - at its mention, Jaune recalled the brief glimpse of her Faunus characteristics he'd received that day before she'd quite forcefully shoved him off the docks, "Ah... a cat Faunus, then."

With only a small nod, Blake glanced towards the last remnant of dusk in the sky as a small breeze picked up through the balcony, "Mhm..."

"Well at least that wasn't a... scandalous hum this time. As if you'd just committed a crime or something."

Her gaze returning to grant the smug blonde a light glare, Blake then seemed a little unsure of what to say next, taking another sip of tea now that she'd burned out her inner turmoil in conversation to stall a bit as Jaune did the same with his.

As soon as the brew went past Jaune's lips, he couldn't help letting out a little sigh in pleasure. Maybe it was because anything caffeinated outside the teacher's lounge wasn't caffeinated... because obviously... kids like Ruby and Nora wielding lethal weapons... or he was seriously starting to develop a taste for coffee. Good stuff.

Clearing her throat, Blake let out a hint of a nervous smile as she ended the easy-going pause between them, "So... Ren really has a Dewey Decimal system set up in your dorm?"

"Hehe, yeah," Jaune chuckled in reply, "I never understood how it worked no matter how long I looked at it... and trust me, I tried."

"Don't beat yourself up about it too badly," she retorted amiably, Jaune glad about how letting her get things off her chest had done wonders for her conversation skills, "You've only been living together for a month..."

Another laugh from the blonde, except a little more cautious this time, "Eheh... right..."

The ravenette shook her head at the strange blonde before noting, "I for one, can appreciate the organization necessary to ensure such valuable possessions remain in order... but I would never be able to make that system work in our room..."

"No?"

The first chuckle from the ravenette all night... and maybe the first he'd ever seen from her up close, "Oh no, Ruby and Yang would never uphold it."

"Oh yeah?" Jaune noted, sensing a possible opportunity now that Blake had brought up her team on her own terms, "You didn't mention Weiss... do I sense a possible common ground between the two of you?"

That window of opportunity immediately slamming shut on his fingers, Jaune watched Blake's defenses come back up as her shoulders tensed and she put her cup down. Yep, too soon... but he barely had time to lament it as she was already moving on to the next order of business.

"Common ground implies compromise," she stated coldly, lacking sharpness but lacking emotion too, "And prejudice rarely shows much reason."

Jaune was wise enough to keep from adding something along the lines of 'That sword cuts both ways' before he was once again the target of her deliberations.

"So onto you, Jaune," a small groan from the knight, "Mhm, don't think I'd forgotten."

"Yeah yeah," he grumbled as she now sat back in her seat expectantly with arms crossed, the knight realizing that he'd forgotten to partition some of her story time towards making up a decent fake one of his own.

"Whenever you're ready," she added, a hint of dry humor still present at least in the single brow she raised in vague amusement at his consternation, "I'll quietly listen to your woeful tale."

Heh... if only she knew...

"Where... do I begin?"

Blake glanced up in thought, her lips pursing a bit to the side as her head lightly tilted one way and then to the other as if deciding between two invisible options above her head, "Hmm... I went quite a ways back with my own story, didn't I. I suppose you could start with where you're from, your decision to come here, and if you can manage it..."

Her gaze dropped to meet his, Jaune immediately understanding by inference.

"The Fang..."

"Mhm..."

Jaune sighed, scratching the back of his head before noting, "You hum a lot. Never could figure out why..."

"Mhm. Because usually, most of what people say really isn't worth what I'd say in return."

Pausing a bit in thought, Jaune couldn't help a slight nod at Blake's subtle smirk, "That actually explains a lot about you."

"...mhm."

"Right. Where... I'm from," Jaune drawled aloud, rummaging through whatever pieces of memory he could find or salvage. It was hard, considering that focusing on them made them blurrier and that they were only clear in his sleep, but his newer habit of waking up every now and then and sketching what he could remember had made it easier - all he had to do was remember what he'd drawn, "I remember growing up..."

Forests. Flashes of sunlight through canopies... feet plodding through the undergrowth.

"Outside of the kingdoms," he continued, glancing at Blake to see her taking a sip from her drink as she continued listening attentively, "Matter of fact, I'm pretty sure there weren't any... n-nearby, that is."

Laughter. Feminine. Flashes of gold. Auburn, too. Hair?

"...I had seven sisters. Don't remember too much about my parents other than the fact they were fighters. Good ones. But at some point, that all changed... everything was lost, and the worst part is that I barely even remember how it happened."

"But it had to do with the White Fang."

Jaune paused, realizing that he and she were thinking of what turned out to be two different things. But noting the bind he'd likely face if he tried presenting the series of events in that manner, he simply nodded.

"It was a surprise attack. They were outgunned, outnumbered... I had no idea how I didn't get added to the death count that day - they were far better fighters than I was. I guess I have my Semblance to thank for that, then... But if I ever have a chance to fix things, to figure out why they did it and who was really behind such pointless killing, I know I'll have to be stronger. Much stronger."

Blake sighed, taking a final sip of her tea before stating softly, "So that's why you came to Beacon? To train so you can face them again? I... probably wouldn't be able to say I had the same resolve after I left. I'm sorry about your family though, I wish I had something to offer that could help... where did the attack happen?"

"Ah, I'd barely be able to say," Jaune stated somberly, dismissing her words with a small wave, "Besides, it was way before your time..."

A curious glare from the ravenette.

"...I mean, I wouldn't be able to recall. I-It's complicated."

Blake hummed contemplatively, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the empty cup in her hands before she noted, "And that Semblance of yours... I take it that it's gotten you out of trouble in plenty of situations?"

"More than you know..."

"No doubt. What is it, if you don't mind me asking?"

Jaune sighed, internally lamenting that Blake was now the third person to ask him something like that directly and would have to be the third person from whom he'd have to withhold the full truth. But keeping in mind her history in such an organization and probable training in how to find a lying mole and stuff like that, Jaune was suddenly concerned that direct deception wouldn't be an option with her... he'd have to hit it from a different angle.

Vague honesty it'd be again, then...

"I honestly don't know," Jaune began with a genuine sigh of dejection, "No one that might've known was ever able to explain it to me before I ended up here... but it lets me figure out how people fight and use their weapons to give me an edge, along with giving me an okay idea about places I've never been to before. I guess you can say it's a cheap power, and somehow my shield keeps track of how many times I use it."

That seemed detailed enough, at least to get her to infer the rest.

"That sounds," Blake began slowly in thought, brows furrowing a bit before looking up at Jaune in tempered realization, "quite a bit like Tracing."

"Yeah," Jaune concurred, trying not to give away his pleased expression of having his plan work, "That's... what they tell me these days."

"Certainly a viable possibility, but it still leaves a few open questions," Blake then added, Jaune's inner excitement crashing as she then placed her forearm flat on the table, "I suppose a good idea would be to put it to the test. Hold my hand."

"Uhh, but uhm... I know they're far away, but there are others up here..."

Glancing down at her hand and back up at the knight in confusion, Blake fought back a surge of warmth to her cheeks as she noted gruffly, "It's a test, not a display of affection."

Ignoring her peeved muttering, Jaune complied and did so, his right hand held in her left as he felt her velvety soft skin squeeze around his.

"There's no point in trying to analyze my weapon since you've already seen it in action on Grimm, so you're going to Trace me," Blake informed, her gaze trained on the knight as she continued, "So tell me, what's my preferred handling of Gambol?"

Jaune sighed, the sensation of his hand in hers so uncomfortable yet comfortable at the same time that it was somewhat difficult to think... then again, it was just holding hands, in a public place, where people could see...

Softly shaking himself out of it, he simply decided to close his eyes to at least seem like he was concentrating, digging through his mind for memories about the tournament for her specific style of hand to hand combat.

"You're a dual-wielder, and a very good one at that," he finally noted, his eyes closed as he recalled team RWBY's bout against some team from Atlas, "You lead with your right foot even though you're a right-handed fighter, but I figure that's because your blade is lighter than your sheath and you put preference to speed..."

Unable to see her eyes widen a bit in surprise since to her, he'd never seen her face off against students in class to see her adopt that style, Jaune waited for Blake's next question.

"Not bad, Tracer... then here's another one - what's my weakness as a fighter?"

Jaune's brows furrowed in thought, memories of the tournament flitting through his mind for her falls in combat before drawing a line of common ground between them, "It's interesting... you, really don't seem to be able to take a hit..."

A short pause before he continued, "I mean, not that you can't take one if you absolutely have to... but now that I think of it, your whole style seems to be built around avoiding them..."

"Not exactly a quality explanation, Jaune - it's not like anyone can afford to let a creature of Grimm get a free shot on them just to make it 'fair'."

"I wasn't finished," Jaune corrected, his eyes still closed as he went through the memories again, "You dodge better than anyone else because you're afraid... afraid of getting hit and not being able to get back up. So you dodge, run, whatever it takes..."

He finally opened his eyes to see the stunned amber-eyed ones of his companion staring into them, Jaune continuing after placing his other hand on top of hers assuringly, "But your weakness has got nothing on your strengths, Blake... with that kind of agility and rate of damage, you fit the bill as best support fighter anyone can ask for - your style is literally of the most use as part of a team, and with the right partners, I don't think there's a man or machine on Remnant that can stand up to you!"

A glint of recognition flitted through Blake's eyes; had Jaune just Traced back to her final mission as a White Fang operative?

"Those are... heavy words, Jaune," Blake replied, controlling her emotions that were threatening to undermine the level tones in her voice, "Frankly, words I don't believe I deserve... you may have your Sembalnce, but if you'd seen the things I did before-"

"But I have, Blake! I have," Jaune replied resolutely, the large smile on his lips taking the ravenette back completely in surprise, "I've seen your potential, and what you can be! You go back to the team that cares about you, and I can see the four of you will keep moving forward, breaking down walls, and making the world a better place like you wanted! Isn't that the reason why you said you dedicated your life for this?"

Blanke blinked at the completely convinced young man in front of her, his words surely just an attempt to convince her of a possibility that no one could guarantee... but that look in his eyes... oh how she wanted to be able to have that kind of conviction as well...

"Juane... you can't, say that for sure..."

"Can't I? So it's a life in Beacon as opposed to what, going back to the very people who'd almost corrupted you into their way of thinking!? C'mon, Blake, you're better... than..."

His voice trailing off as he saw her gaze slowly falling to the table in guilt, Jaune continued softly, "Wait. You were seriously considering...?"

"You... said it yourself, Jaune. No cause is lost as long as you're willing to fight for it for the right reasons... maybe I can go back and-"

"Don't," Jaune finished sharply in barely more than a whisper, "Don't you dare finish that thought. Otherwise you're just selling yourself short to the wrong crowd... and I bet you know just as well as I do that if you truly believed what you were saying, then you'd have just left me at the docks and left Vale!"

Blake screwed her eyes shut, her bow dropping down on her head before she replied with a shaky voice, "Then help me believe, Jaune... make me believe, like you do..."

The knight sighed as he realized that he truly had no experience in this life with handling women, glancing to the side in his reflectively strange way of giving her some privacy to vent those emotions before slowly lifting his second hand from above her hand to her shoulder. Seeing that she made no immediate reaction, he decided to rub her shoulder a bit while he wondered how unlikely it was that her team would've gotten her to vent this much with just one conversation. It'd have taken at least two for sure, facilitated by none other than Yang, no doubt...

"Alright then," he finally began, an idea sprouting in his mind that suddenly seemed crazy enough to work, "I'll show you..."

Putting his hand down from her shoulder, Jaune gave her a warm smile as she looked up at him with with a curious glance despite her reddened eyes.

"That's right. During the week, I heard Weiss complaining about how the field trip had forced her to use up way more Dust than she had available from her weekly supply and how her request to her dad's company for an advance shipment had a butterfly effect, making their huge Dust shipment that was scheduled to come in to Vale on Sunday come in tonight instead..."

"Butterfly effect?" Blake echoed in question, to which Jaune chuckled softly.

"Heh yeah, it means how little things that get moved out of place can slowly become a big thing over time through a chain of events - like how the air moved by a butterfly flapping its wings here in Vale can indirectly cause the beginning of a hurricane across the world in Mistral!"

His smile fading as he realized he was still the only one smiling, Jaune continued, "Well anyway, instead of testing your theory on the White Fang by returning, let's go and find out if the robberies are connected by seeing if they jump on the payload while it's most vulnerable. If they're not there, then I'll personally let you do as you please - your argument for the Fang's redemption in the light of their innocence would be as valid as my argument for yours. But if they show..."

Blake's nod signaling her agreement with his reasonable suggestion, she noted with a light reddening of her cheeks, "Alright, I'll take you up on your offer... I'll, just need my hand back first, if you don't mind..."

Jaune looked down, his hand immediately unclasping hers in his embarrassment, "Oh! Sorry, I didn't realize..."

As they both stood, Blake finally letting a small smile break into her lips as she watched her companion pay for their drinks, she spoke up to get his attention, "You know, you really are different... I'd never heard anyone speak the way you do after I left the Fang. Where they always assumed the worst in them, you only ever assume the complete opposite... and even when they're people like the Fang, you're willing to give them a chance..."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Jaune noted softly as his hand remained on the table, his gaze not quite meeting hers, "I'd have lost myself a long time ago in Oum-knows-what kind of loop of you weren't... anyway, let's go."

Satisfied with the statement for now, Blake nodded and followed his lead out of the cafe. And while it took a few minutes for the students to get to the docks in question, it took less than one for them to realize that they weren't alone. Peeking at the open dock area from behind a few containers, Jaune and Blake promptly saw men in masks and uniforms hauling around tow cables to hook up the crates.

"Oh no..."

"Is that them?" Jaune asked, already figuring the answer from what he could recall from memory.

Blake sighed dejectedly, staring at the bloody wolf on the back of the man's outfit before admitting, "Yes... It's them. I guess deep down, I knew you were right. I just didn't want you to be..."

The catgirl closed her eyes in despair, only to open them suddenly when a new voice was heard.

"We're not exactly the most inconspicuous bunch of thieves at the moment, so why don't you animals try to pick up the pace!?"

"This isn't right. The White Fang would never work with a Human. Especially not one like that," she stated angrily at the sight of Roman Torchwick, unsheathing the katana of her weapon as Jaune's eyes slowly went wide.

So the vision... it was right! But how, he'd never been there to live it... his Aura wouldn't have been able to sense that kind of extraneous timeline unless... no, couldn't be. But that'd have to be a thought for another time - there was no way he'd be able to protect Blake and face Roman at the same time without risking months'-worth of loops again-

"Blake, don't!" Jaune cut in with a restrained whisper as he caught the girl's arm in a vice-like grip, "I know you're angry, and for good reason, but I've faced this guy before back in the fild trip and-"

"Wait, you're telling me you faced Roman Torchwick!?" Blake cut in with an equally restrained whisper in disbelief, Jaune letting go of her arm if only to raise his hands in an attempt to placate her.

"Yes. And there's no way we make it out of here without running into serious issues if he's got that much manpower on his side," looking around them, he got an idea, "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but if it's two things I know about Roman, it's that his two biggest allies are theatricality and deception. Right now, we have the element of surprise... so I say we use those two things against him to whittle down the playing field."

Blake's expression was complicated and mostly reluctant, but after a moment that she spent getting control over her breathing, she finally stated, "Fine. What do we do."

"You know if they keep the kinds of Dust hospitals use for medicine in crates around here, and where we might find them?"

"Yes, as long as it isn't Black Dust - that type is radioactive. The rest is kept usually towards the entrance of the dock area since that kind of shipment tends to take priority... Why?"

"Well, you know if those crates might have something that can act as a bio-agent of some kind?"

A moment of deliberation led to a small smirk that formed on Blake's lips.

"Follow me."

As they stealthily made their way through row after row of giant containers, Blake and Jaune noticed that there were two teams of perpetrators working in separate areas of the docks, each group comprised of about a dozen armed grunts that toiled their way around getting the crates ready for transport and pick up. Stopping in front of a white container that was about two rows away from where the second group was working, Blake wordlessly pointed at the distinctive container.

Making his way to the vertical mechanism to open the door, Jaune paused and turned to face Blake with a half-pantomime, half-whisper, "What do I do? It'll make noise when I open it."

"Coat it with Aura," Blake whispered with equal caution as she remained posted as lookout by the opposite corner, "I do it to mitigate sound when I need to be completely silent. Shouldn't be a problem for you."

Having forgotten to ask just how much of the door he should coat in Aura, Jaune simply opted to coat the whole thing with a shrug. Deadpanning at just how easily he coated the entire slab of metal with dimly glowing energy without breaking a sweat, Blake watched as he disengaged the lock and gave her a thumbs up when the door opened without so much as a squeak.

"Now what?"

"Time for the theatricality," Jaune informed with a mischievous smirk, looking at Blake's form from head to toe, "Almost works as is, but it needs to be... creepier."

Then taking off his armor and placing it on the floor, Jaune surprised Blake when he also took off his black hoodie and offered it to her, "I'll need you to wear this. Also, brush your hair in front of your face so nothing else can be seen. If you can, ditch the weapon and wrap the bands around your hands entirely. Can you throw a punch?"

Blake deadpanned again at the question.

"Contrary to what people may believe, Yang isn't the only one on our team who knows how to throw a punch."

"Oh, really?" Jaune noted with mock-surprise and looking up in thought to count off on his fingers, "Well that's news to me. Let's see, I know for a fact that Ruby can't punch to save her life... Weiss would probably gripe about breaking a nail..."

"Jaune. Just keep it up and I'll show you if I can throw a punch."

Simply shaking her head with a hint of a smirk as Jaune held back a chuckle, Blake put on the hoodie that ended up going down to mid-thigh and then put her weapon down to rewrap her hands. After brushing her hair forward so it all fell in front of her face, she could barely see Jaune contemplating her with hand to chin in thought before stating, "Hm. It'd be better if we lost the bow. Try holding your ears flat against you head, 'kay?"

Blake complied, reaching up to undo her bow, but was perplexed when she saw Jaune offering his hand when she'd finished undoing it. Holding the ribbon in her hand, she actually lifted the the hair up from a side of her face to give the knight a stern, questioning one-eyed glare.

"You keep my hoodie safe, I keep your bow safe. You trust me?" Jaune asked benevolently, Blake making no motion for a moment before finally placing the bow in his hand softly.

"Do you trust me?" he repeated again, the warmth in those blunt words striking her as entirely foreign.

A reluctant but definite nod from the ravenette.

"Good, cuz that's my lucky hoodie you're currently wearing and I've had it since initiation. Now, I'll need you to use your Semblance and scare the living tar out of them. And I mean seriously freak them out before picking them off one by one. I'll take care of the rest - and be sure to leave the last one around here to me. Got it?"

His plan finally clicking in her mind, a dark smile befell Blake's countenance as she got in character and slowly let her hair fall to cover her entire face once more, the mere action getting Jaune to do little more than give her an unsettled smile and thumbs up before closing the door behind them.

meanwhile, about fifty feet away...

"Hey, Daggett."

"Yeah, Norbert?"

"Do you... do you ever wonder why we're he-?"

clink

Both Beaver-Faunuses standing guard at one of the prepped crates in the middle of the secondary dock area stood at attention and readied their firearms at the direction of the sound from behind the unprepped containers as Norbert then asked aloud, "W-What was that?"

"I dunno, go check it."

"No, you go check it," Norbert replied, shoving his younger brother by only four minutes over towards the possible threat, "Worse comes to worse, you use your gun. You know how to use your gun, ri-?"

"Of course I know how to use my gun!" Daggett retorted hotly, his distinctive buck teeth showing from underneath his mask in the form of a sneer before shuffling towards the containers while muttering obscure obscenities.

Checking the four corners at the intersection of four multi-stacked containers, Daggett quickly shifted the barrel of his shotgun down all four before turning back to the exit, "Okay, Norbert, false alarm... nobody-"

clink

The sound, seemingly closer this time, caused the Beaver Faunus to whip his gun around to see behind. Shivering slightly this time, he slowly made his way to the intersection again and repeated his motion of checking his corners, his equipment clattering loudly as he did it. Seeing no one again, the Faunus actually let himself breathe out a sigh of relief before freezing in place at the sight of a girl standing in the middle of the walkway when he turned back to exit.

A girl, he could only assume, from the long jet-black hair draped flat in front of the figure's face, the rest of its posture somewhat haphazard down to the black bandages around the darkly-clad figure's gangly fingers.

Quickly beginning to hyperventilate, she was gone in the blink of an eye however by the time he'd aimed his gun in her direction.

clink

"Heee... heee... heee..."

Eyes wide in fright and breath coming out in labored heaves by now, skin clammy as the sharp vice of terror's teeth sunk in deep, he quickly backpedaled to the intersection and away from the sound before the sound of an ice-cold breath caused him to turn and see the dark apparition inches from his face.

"...EEEEEEEE!"

"D-Daggett!?" Norbert cried out from his post, rushing to where his brother had gone just in time to see him dragged around the corner of a container in horror, "What the- EEEEEEEEEEE!"

From inside the med container a few yards away, Jaune actually felt himself pale a bit as he heard subsequent yells and even the occasional pitter-patter of gunshots and imagined himself in their place.

"Man, talk about 'Taking the ball and running with it'," he mumbled to himself as he recalled to a considerable degree of certainty that he'd just heard her seethe out 'Seven Dayyyys' near his container a minute ago, "Anyway, back to business..."

Rummaging through even more freezers, each with their own batches of anti-septic Dust vials and whatnot, Jaune knew he'd finally hit the jackpot when he found a little black box at the bottom marked with the universal symbol of Hazardous. Lifting it over one of the fridges to eye level, he found that inside were two large flasks that were labeled and carefully packed into it.

Checking out the first one filled with Midnight Blue-colored Dust, Jaune's brows furrowed as he read and partly sounded-out the label out loud, "Hazardous: Powerful Hall-u-cin-o-gen-ic. Known to afflict victims exposed to it by skin contact with hallucinations of their worst fear. That's dumb. Last thing I want is for them to gun me down cuz they think I'm a vampire bat or something... next."

Picking up the next flask, he actually thought he'd accidentally picked up Black Dust until closer inspection revealed that it was actually a very dark charcoal grey - about as dark as Pyrrha's Aura when engaged.

"Hazardous: Acute pa-ra-ly-tic. Will cause paralysis upon contact with skin or lungs. Huh... good enough."

So as he uncorked the flask and let his Aura activate all over his body, Jaune then did the most sensible thing that any young man would do upon testing the effectiveness of a new Semblance trait...

Pour the ample contents of the hazardous Dust flask all over himself.

Meanwhile, the final Faunus stood outside beside a central container with plenty of open space around it with communication somehow having been cut off from the primary group through their channel - which should've been impossible since only a White Fang member would've been able to input the code that disabled their encrypted channel - and his back against the metallic container wall. Most of the lights had been shot out or broken, and the remaining one was swinging back and forth and causing all manner of moving shadows to be cast around the area that was fraying what little nerve the Faunus had left.

After flinching at the apparition of what he thought was the evil dark spirit of some unfortunate girl who'd met a grim fate in the docks for the hundredth time, the soldier finally snapped and rushed out, shooting his machine gun while shouting, "Where ARE you!?"

Little did he notice the plume of dark smoke soundlessly descending behind him, the knight within grinning at the prospect of having some fun of his own before letting out the deepest and most guttural voice he could muster.

"HERE."

"Wahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

The shrill cry of terror rang through the night as the mook was then hoisted violently into the air without another word, the sound causing several members of the primary group to turn to Roman with worry.

"Stop squealing like a bunch of pigs - no offense to the pig-Faunus who are likely here... I'm looking at you over there, Pork-Belly. They're probably just playing pranks on each other, so everyone - and Porky - get back to-!"

WHUMP

And suddenly landing right in the middle of the group was the smoking figure of the staff sergeant from the other group whose eyes were peeled wide open and twitching up a storm. Needless to say, it freaked everyone out, but not as much as when what essentially was a black comet landed nearby seconds later.

Before anyone could react, an archaic silhouette within that seemed to be brandishing a sword and shield thrust the sword outward, causing a considerable plume of dark energy to fire out and engulf its first victim to leave him in much a similar state as the staff sergeant on the floor. One by one the violently-chaotic cloud moved back and forth to take out the grunts through the gunfire, but before it could fire on Roman who was still glued to where he stood in shock, the cloud turned white and regressed into a certain blonde's body.

Not minding Jaune's silent curse at himself, Roman narrowed his eyes at the space of incapacitated minions around him before shaking his head with a groan, "Well if it isn't my favorite meddling kid trying to play the part of Vale's very own Dark Knight!"

Pausing for a moment as he then saw Blake land by Jaune's side wearing her weapon and his hoodie, he continued with a smirk at the sight of her ears, "Ohhh, and it seems he brought his wittle kitten, too~"

"Takes one to know one, pussy."

Chuckling dryly at her catty remark, Roman brushed it off with a raised brow in condescension, "Oh, and she can speak!"

"Drop it, Roman," Jaune cut in sternly, wearing nothing but his white t-shirt under his gear, "We're here to put an end to your little operation once and for all."

"Ugh, not the brightest one in the bunch, are you, kid," Roman noted with a smug smirk, then motioning to the crates around him, "I mean really, you think this is all me? You even know what I am? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it! You know, I just… do... things. I see what I want and I take it - and does this look anything like that to you?"

At that, Jaune's face softened at the realization of a few things... Roman wasn't in the Coliseum when he died. Moreover, the joint venture of an evidently anti-Human organization with what was obviously a pretty crummy human had to mean that this went deeper than just the robberies... So maybe the knight's involvement with Ruby's team was for the best, then - clearly, they knew more about foiling plots from the criminal world than anyone, so it seems he'd have to be ready to join from here on out if he was ever gonna get to the bottom of this.

For now, he'd make do with prodding at a potential shortcut.

"You're right, it looks like a drag queen is trying to pretend to be the real Queen," Jaune noted aloud, immediately causing the thief to scowl deeply, "So how about you 'fess up the name and location of who you're working for!"

"Tempting. Veeery tempting," Roman drawled, lighting a cigar and leaning on his cane even though hate continued seething through his voice, "But now that I remember, as much as I'd have loved to contradict your earlier comment about my 'little' operation with droves upon droves of soldiers, I wanted to let you know that I decided to go a different route after our little skirmish in the forest. I was gonna do it eventually anyways, but the timing just felt right... and it works even better now that I've been sworn not to touch you after that little present I sent you last week by air!"

Jaune's eyes widening in realization, he was the one sneering as he quipped, "Fat lot of good that did you. So unless you wanna see the color of your insides, I suggest you get to the part I was talking about in the next five seconds."

Roman in turn simply deadpanned, knife-handing the air as he began, "Ooh, very poor choice of words. See, as I was saying, you have my word that it won't happen again since I've been given the cease and desist on your murder... Buuuuuuut~"

SHLICK

Jaune's eyes widened even more this time but for different reasons, looking down to see the thin blade of a chokuto stained with his lifeblood having erupted through his stomach from just underneath his armor plating on his torso, Blake's mortified expression going pale at the sight.

"~That order was never given to her," Roman concluded with a satisfied puff of his cigar, "You know, there's something I'd always wanted to tell you, Jaune. For a Tracer, you've got some monster blind spots, which means that up until now you've either been pretty quick or pretty lucky... But in either case, looks like your luck's run out."

Turning back slowly to see the multi-colored hair, garb, and eyes of his admittedly short and grinning executioner as the excruciating pain from being stabbed through an organ like the stomach set in, Jaune surprised the three people present by turning back to face Roman and chuckling even as he fell to his knees in the process.

"Only problem with that is the one thing you haven't learned about me yet," Jaune stated with a smirk even though he had to pause to cough copious amounts of blood onto the pavement before looking back up at the master thief with a bloodied smile...

"...I make my own luck."

And with that, Jaune Arc died for the four-hundred thirteenth time on record.

A/N: Jaune, nuuuuuuu!

...Oh hai, TPS here! So yeah, that happened. I apologize, kind of. Like I've implied in previous notes, Knightshade can only be catalyzed with plenty of feels in my opinion, but relax, it's not like Blake will actually remember Jaune dying next to her, technically. But with the vision stuff, well it's complicated.

But surprisingly simple in the end.

EDIT: Also, new thing I want to do but don't know how to put in a decent disclaimer mode except maybe just DISCLAIMER directly - I'm gonna be doing a thing where I try to respond to guest reviews on the reviews page cuz so many of you guys make such great points and I'm tired of not having a way to tell you guys that! So, dear guests who for some reason or another are unable to make a free FFNet account: please feel free to name yourselves in the guest-naming feature so it's easier to reference your reviews, k? Cool. But be forewarned, flamebait will be systemically vaporized from cybernetic existence with extreme prejudice. So yep, cool beans.

Type away!

Question is now, when exactly will he loop back to? Tune in next time to find out, and don't forget to Fave, Follow, and Review to show your support if you're enjoying the story! So take care and-

Oh right, there's like over 3k words left in the chapter. Though I know this kind of omake might really belong in TGG, it just fit into this part of the story too well not to put here...

So, here's to LDR's first crossov-omake!

*DISCLAIMER: Everyone in it speaks with a British accent. Everyone.*

Crossov-omake #1: BBC Sherlock

"Four hours."

"No..."

"Yes. I timed it - it only took me four hours to solve the case of the Dissapearing Dust. A covert organization will rise up and attempt to cuckhold the Vytal Tournament this year under the guise of peace and equality and wotnot," the figure in the long charcoal peacoat and maroon scarf notes across the stunned companion before taking another sip of tea, "Obviously, naught but a ploy. Their true aim is to disrupt inter-continental communication and subjugate the kingdoms under their rule."

The blonde companion scoffs again in disbelief, decorated ivory-gold weapon in lap before retorting, "You couldn't possibly have gathered such intelligence after our lit'le foray across town today! All you had to go on was a stolen piece of evidence in the form of nail clippings from a recently-burglarized, dingy old Dust shop already being catered to by the bobbies!"

"How can you not see it, it's clear as day and even clearer than the forged documents you used to enter into Beacon, 'Doctor' Jaune Watson!"

The blue-eyed blonde gasps in his seat before shooting back with narrowed eyes, "Wot nerve! You take that back right now - we've known each other but for two fortnights and you offend me so with such vile accusations!"

"Yet you've disregarded universal Doctor-Patient confidentiality by revealing my condition to my peers, you failed to realize the podiatric health risk of diddling around town in those ridiculous sneakers of yours... and you've yet to deny my claim," a smug grin from the figure before leaning back with a dismissive wave, "But no matter, my deductions about you were made even before initiation and that scarcely affects my decision to have you as my flatmate by the end of the week. Second floor, B Wing, Room Twenty-One. Your personal affects have likely been moved into our new quarters already."

Doctor Watson feels his eye beginning to twitch as the high-functioning sociopath - according to his admittedly fake-Doctor diagnosis - sitting across from him sits back while glibly taking another sip of tea, "You mean... you've had me moved in with you in flat 221B without permission... and you're completely failing to recognize the amoral implications of said decision here!?"

"I beg your pardon, I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about."

Jaune violently motions back and forth between himself and his cafe companion repeatedly in his growing emphatic state before noting loudly, "Me! You! Living together alone! Lady Holmes, does that not strike any semblance of sense or sensibility in that vastly over-developed mind of yours as the least bit un-couth!?"

The young woman in coat, vest, white blouse and black trousers, her jet black hair tied back with a bow in a messy ponytail looking up with her amber eyes in thought, pouts in thought for a moment while idly swinging her boot back and forth beneath the table before glancing back at the altered young male across from her.

"Not really. Should it?" she states more than asks, raising her hand to quell his reply as a smile reaches her face, "Excellent, I believe we're about to have our first client together!"

"Our first wha-!?"

"Lady Blake Holmes, I presume?" a third voice begins as a blonde young man in tattered driver's cap, tattered tweed coat, tattered open shirt, and tattered short trousers approaches the pair, "Please forgive my intrusion, but I couldn't help but overhear that you were investigating the massive amounts of Dust being stolen from the area - I'd like to contribute, if I may, being that I may have an idea where said illicit Dust-relocation activities may be recurring next..."

A sip of tea before her prompt reply, "Continue."

"Oh, sod it! And how do we even know we can trust this bloke!" Jaune heatedly interjects, motioning at the bulge in the third party's coat rear, "Clearly he's already hiding his Faunus heritage from us - in retrospect, not exactly the best indicator of good tidings in my history of interaction with Faunus!"

"Simian... Faunus," Lady Holmes extrapolates like a child pointing out the obvious, "And a reasonable guise considering the fact that this young man is currently a wanted fugitive. Liberal garb, likely hails from Vacuo, but judging by the wear in his outfit and," a lean and reluctant pair of sniffs following, "distinctive marine aroma, he recently arrived to Vale through methods other than by land from our desert-based sister kingdom. The lack of any decent winter-clothes rules out Atlas which means he must have come from Mistral. Despite his attire, his physique is terribly well-kept, leading me to believe that aside from the staff-like weapon he has hidden inside his coat along with his amusingly evident tail, he is being trained in the ways of a Hunter in Haven Academy."

"Y-Your reputation is certainly founded on good reason," the young man notes with a small blush only to be halted by her raised hand.

"I wos not finished. Your method of arrival was peculiar - judging by the lingering smears of banana on your overcoat and oily residue on your knees and fingernails, you were subjected not to the comfortable service of the respected Mistrali cruise liners but of a cramped voyage to our port with nothing more than a meager bunch of monkey-food for sustenance. You are but a stowaway who was apparently nearly caught, which brings me to my final point - the only likely source you've gleaned as tender to disturb my perfectly decent conversation with Doctor Watson is related to the docks themselves as likely targets for the next Dust robbery! Am I wrong, Mister...?"

"Sun."

"Oh dear, then your parents must've been even dimmer than I expected," Blake quips with a giggle, "It is already quite evident that you're male..."

"Bl... Blake," Jaune interrupts respectfully, the young woman glancing at him with a lingering smirk, "I don't think his name is Son..."

Cocking a brow in realization, she simply glances at the deadpanning Faunus beside them before standing and clearing her throat, "Right. Of course. In either case, your efforts are appreciated, random citizen, but myself and Doctor Watson must be taking leave. An operation of such magnitude can only be brought about by the hands of Ex-Professor of Dust and Combat, Roman Moriarty! But by all means, feel free to finish the biscuits on the table, they're rather tolerable and I'm sure you're famished."

Sun is about to reply, but Blake simply pops her peacoat collar and turns to her companion, "Come now, there's not a moment to lose; the game, Mister Watson, is afoot!"

But a few minutes later as the duo stands amid the cricket-chirping silence of the docks, Jaune finally turns to face his pensive new acquaintance, "So... our helpful first client. Not so helpful?"

Blake does nothing to reply, simply looking around in the air for a moment before crouching down and pressing her palm to the floor for another moment. Standing up, she surprises her blonde associate yet again when she starts facepalming herself repeatedly.

"Stupid... stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid..."

"I'm sure you could fit another few adjectives in that little tirade you had just now," Jaune notes with a vague smirk, "It was actually starting to make me feel much better as well!"

"No... no, how could I not see it before!"

Seeing how serious she's getting as her self-depreciation continues, Jaune begins to frown at her.

"Blake... wot's gotten into you?"

"The Dust... the shops... those operations were certainly executed under the hand of Moriarty," she begins, the self-directed anger still present as she continues, "But this... this is an entirely separate matter altogether."

"H-How?"

"Isn't it plainly obvious?" an equally self-assured voice answers as a man wearing a tuxedo walks around the corner of a crate wearing a snazzy top hat, accompanied by an overly-roided masked Faunus donning a chainsaw, "For the love of Monty, Blake, you actually made it all the way here before realizing that there was no way your 'reputation' could've spread to Mistral in but a month without so much as a single major police case mystery solved?"

Jaune watches Blake scowling at the pretentious man, leaning towards her in concern, "Some exposition would be rather appropriate right about now..."

"He... is my real arch-nemesis..."

"Wha!? Normal people don't have arch-nemesises!"

"Knowing how melodramatic she can be, I'd beg to differ," the man replies with a high and mighty tone, "Though the fault cannot be entirely credited to her - she gets it from her mother."

Jaune's eyes slowly widen as the realization begins to dawn on him.

"And you derive your bull-headedness from father," Blake retorts hotly, "Literally. Need I remind you, it took you over two months to locate me after I left... it seems you're slipping, brother."

A brief silence setting in as the man in the top hat's tight-lipped expression hardens into a grimace, it's promptly replaced with an idle wave of his hand much like his sister's, "Middle age. Comes to us all, sister dear."

Jaune cringes... it's just like listening to two people literally trying to see who can act the most stuck-up in a single conversation.

But then the beefy grunt leans towards the man, "Adam, we have her cornered. Why don't we simply apprehend the-"

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the entire district!" Blake cuts in, turning to Jaune with a scoff, "Seriously, do you currently feel the slightest iota of the sensation of being cornered?"

Adam is suddenly on her, the taller man leaning over her menacingly with a growl escaping his lips, "And who's to say the two of us aren't enough to do exactly so, hm?"

"Of course I could, except for the fact that I know you better than you know yourself when it comes to, well... everything."

"I could say the same of you, dear sister."

"Really?" Blake questions defiantly, glancing at his outfit with a smirk, "I see you've put on a few pounds in my absence, hardly the image of a stalwart revolutionary."

"You've changed the way you wear your hair, a measure of doubt of your successful coping with the new life, perhaps?"

"Your fingertips are chafed - you've recently picked up playing the guitar. Are times in the Fang that bad without me?"

"You've been drinking tea again. Coupled with the pronounced jugular artery along your neck, I'd say the stress has weighed heavily on you as well."

"That doesn't count. That monkey of yours probably fed you that information as lackey-for-hire after leading us here. But you've brought Anderson as your new number two. That says it all."

The large Faunus protests and Adam scowls as Blake grins at her successful deduction, his next words cutting straight home, "You've a kink in your lumbar when you shift your weight. Judging by the slope of your stance and the distinctly musty smell on your hands... of first-edition novel paper... it would seem my adventurous little sister has returned to her dreadful bedtime habit of reading literature of a, certain nature."

Blake's eyes widening with a slight blush, she shoots back, "Well you're no longer in charge of your own operation, aren't you! I sensed it the moment I saw you turn the corner with your left foot first - you're limping. The lingering burn marks on Wilt and your attire in such precarious areas all point to the fact that you've taken up negotiations with a female Human of all people... pyrokinetic, most likely."

Adam's resolve finally seems to take on the quality of his weapon's namesake, the bull-Faunus sighing before replying dejectedly, "Not quite..."

And in another second, the sounds of broken glass signal the appearance of a young woman donning white trousers, matching blazer over corcet, and lacey parasol at which Blake immediately narrows her eyes.

"Neopolitan Adler... 'The Woman.' There's always something that goes amiss with my initial deductions, but it actually makes sense that a dominatrix such as yourself would've brought my troglodyte of a brother to his knees..."

"Oh, sweetie, you need not be so harsh on flesh and blood," Neo suddenly begins with a fluid and serene vocal tone of a young woman mixed with the coldness of one who would kill you dead without the slightest remorse, "And men neednt require such persuasions to relent to a woman with certain... tastes... just ask Lord Ironwood. After all, your very relation with Duke Adam Mycroft Holmes implies my capability of doing the same with you..."

The short young woman all but sashays to the increasingly uncomfortable amber-eyed detective, glancing up longingly at her features, "Just look at that immaculate bone structure... I could cut myself slapping those cheeks. Under different circumstances, I just might have my way with you until you begged for mercy twice..."

"I've never begged for mercy in my lif-!"

"Twice."

"Erm... this situation is going to the sodder rather quickly, isn't it," Jaune notes in an aside, to which Blake nods with a small gulp.

"Aha! I've found you now!"

Turning to see a young woman in a red hood, corcet, combat skirt, and tiny bowler hat, Blake smiles in realization, "Ruby Lestrade! Am I glad to see you! And I see you've even brought Molly along-"

"Penny."

"Thas wot I said."

"By the power vested in me from Beacon Yard, you're under arrest!" Ruby exclaims with a dramatic point at the villainous trio below, Neo simply turning to give Blake a small smirk before turning to walk back to Adam and Anderson.

"But in any case, I'm afraid we're in a compromised situation among mixed company, so I suppose we should take our leave. Till next time, Lady Holmes - and let this day be remembered as the first of many defeats of that sexy intellect of yours by my hand... toodles!"

Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Blake glares at Neo as Ruby gives Penny the order to fire, only for the stun rays to crash through the images of their adversaries like glass... along with the images of every single crate of Dust at the docks around them. Glancing up at the sky to see the last of a few Bullheads packing the real Dust crates disappear over the horizon as Ruby and Penny join them, Blake turns to face Jaune.

"Y'know, Watson... despite my initial qualms with involving myself with Beacon Yard, I suddenly find the idea much more appealing. Solving this case and apprehending the criminals responsible will certainly advance our notoriety as ace-detectives in the field of domestic terrorism!"

"Along with an Eighty-Nine-point-Seven percent probability of fatality, by my calculations," Penny states, who for some reason is wearing her usual greenish garb under a white labcoat.

"I see... how fatal, exactly?" Blake asks pensively, to which Penny replies with a raised brow.

"...Completely."

"Superb! The merit of a protagonist can only be measured by the lethality of the antagonists he-or-she faces! Come, Watson, we must depart to our flat immediately to ascertain our next move!"

"Our flat?" Ruby echoes in question at Jaune as Blake takes her leave, a small smirk growing on her features as she continues, "You mean... you two are...?"

Jaune gives out a frustrated sigh before explaining while knife-handing the air with both hands, "No, you see, Lady Holmes prefers to be considered as 'married to her work;' our living situation is not by any means, anything more than a professional arrangement designed to facilitate such endeavors!"

"...Suuuureee."

"Oh, sod it!"

*Jaune stomps away from a smug Ruby and Penny behind Lady Holmes as the BBC Sherlock outro theme music plays in the background*

A/N: Dreadfully entertaining to write, that was. I'm afraid you'll have to forgive me for its length... it did get a bit away from me.

In any case, a rousing challenge to write, even though I realized that Neo's playing the part of Irene Adler could easily have been done by Cinder as well. But Neo wins this time since I've just introduced her into the story itself.

EDIT: Quick reminder - I'll be trying to reply to guest reviews from here on out so by all means feel free to have at it!

And honestly, I think the upcoming fight *might* turn out to be my favorite one I've written to date. I mean, I'm writing it already because of how giddy I get from the idea but can't add it to this chapter due to length reasons. Which is a bummer.

But still something to look forward to in the future! So until then, take care,

And Happy Reading!

Live. Die. Repeat.

TPS (c) 2015, 2018