AUTHOR'S NOTES: Originally I was going to do the Schnee banquet thing tonight, but then I realized I wanted to do a little character building first and write something besides air combat and political intrigue. So we have some moments between Clover and Pyrrha, Penny and Pietro, and Weiss and Ruby. And a little with Neo infiltrating stately Schnee Manor...

Poznan-Krezesiny Airbase

Poznan, Republic of Poland

20 August 2001

GEN. IRONWOOD TO MEET WITH EU COUNCIL, blared the headline on the Stars and Stripes, the military newspaper of US forces abroad. Pyrrha Nikos scanned the article while she sipped her coffee, then shook her head with disgust. The article's writer didn't mention it, but she had a feeling that Jacques Schnee's invite to the 77th Tactical Fighter Squadron was going to be used to further embarrass Ironwood. She flipped through the pages of the newspaper, but the only mention of the C-141 shootdown was below the article on Ironwood and Jacques, and all it mentioned was that the investigation was still continuing. There was no mention of Robyn Hill or the Happy Huntresses.

"Hey, sorry I'm running a bit late." Pyrrha looked up and smiled as Clover Ebi took a seat opposite to her. He had coffee as well, and a plate of pancakes. "Had to wait for a new batch of these to get made. Someone ate all the pancakes they had earlier." He nodded at her breakfast. "Not hungry?" All she had on her plate were two plain donuts.

"I ate too much last night," Pyrrha told him. "After General Ironwood got done chewing out Yang and Blake, Weiss and I went out and got a late dinner." She picked up one of the donuts. "I shouldn't even be eating these, but I'm afraid Ruby got me addicted in Japan." She sighed and took a bite. "Sata andagi. Those are-"

"Okinawan donuts?" She looked surprised. "Thought you knew. I was at Kadena for about a year, before I got reassigned here to form Ace Flight back in February." Clover dropped his voice. "I was one of those reassigned due to Air Vice Marshal Lionheart. Guess I was lucky."

"You seem to be." Pyrrha knew what he was talking about: Lionheart had been feeding Salem information on Huntsmen and Huntresses. Most of the ones assigned to the Pacific had been killed; a few lucky ones, like Clover, had merely been reassigned. "Hence your name."

Clover laughed as he spread butter on his pancakes. "That's the funny part. Mom named me Clover because she had been unlucky. My dad accidentally knocked her up right out of high school." He took a bite. "You know, since we're on the subject, Pyrrha's kind of an odd name for a girl."

"It's somewhat unusual, but not unknown. I'm named for Pyrrha of Thessaly. According to Greek mythology, her and her husband were the only survivors of a great flood caused by Zeus. They built an ark."

"Sounds familiar."

"Many ancient peoples have a great flood story." She chuckled. "My parents really wanted a son. They were going to name me Achilles. And if you want irony, I got slightly wounded during the Battle of Beacon." She pointed down. "In the heel."

"Well, at least you didn't die like he did." Clover winced when he realized what he'd said. "Shit, Pyrrha, I'm sorry. Open mouth, insert foot."

She sipped her coffee. "It's all right. I think I've come to terms with it, finally." Algeria and Jaune's statue had done a lot for that, she thought to herself. It allowed her to forgive herself, and to keep moving forward with her life. She stared into the coffee cup for a moment, and decided to open up a bit. "Clover…you may already know this, but…I lost a very dear friend at Beacon."

"Jaune Arc? I read the after action report on your fight with that Cinder Fall woman. The one that Ruby rammed." He nodded. "I also heard you killed her over Tsushima."

"Maybe. They didn't recover a body. They recovered the body of the other woman she shot down—Vernal, I think her name was—but not Cinder's." She felt the rage building, and fought it down. Cinder Fall was dead, and even if she wasn't, she was on the run somewhere, with no aircraft. "But yes, it was Jaune. He…he and I were quite close." Her fingers started to shake, and she stilled them by tightening the grip on her cup. "I'm sorry. It's…bad memories."

Clover nodded. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to. It's none of my business."

"No…perhaps not. But I want you to know." Pyrrha took another drink. "I kind of shut down after Beacon. I even attempted…I tried to kill myself. Luckily, Ren and Nora saved me from myself."

"I'm surprised you got back into the cockpit so fast." Clover ate more of his pancakes.

"I am too, but I was needed. I admit I may have had something of a death wish. I'm much better now. I realized that I did Jaune no favors by wanting to die, not when he would want me to live." Pyrrha laughed softly. "I suppose that sounds quite dramatic."

Clover was silent for a moment. "About a month after Ace Flight went operational, back in May, we lost our first pilot—Miguel Tortuga. Spanish Air Force, former Mirage pilot. Good man; we all liked the hell out of him. He got hit over the Baltic by a Beringel; couldn't get out in time and he knew it. Last thing he said was 'Well, this is it.'" Clover took a deep breath. "Tortuga going down hit us pretty hard too…especially Harriet. I think that's why she's set to the permanently pissed-off position. I think that was our first real test as a unit. It certainly was my first test as a leader." He laughed a little as well. "Marrow's a dork sometimes, but I tell you, having him around helped a lot. He knows he makes us laugh, so I think that's why he does a lot of what he does." He sliced into the pancakes. "I wish we were a tighter bunch, like the way your squadron is. Ruby looks like a kid playing fighter pilot, but damn, those girls would storm hell with a bucket of water for her. And Norn Flight's pretty close too."

"We've been through a lot." Pyrrha ran her fingers over her cup nervously. "Um…are you…I don't know how to ask this, but…are you…seeing anyone?" Immediately Pyrrha blushed and waved her hands. "I mean, I'm just curious! You don't have to tell me or anything!" Her sudden outburst turned a few heads in the cafeteria; luckily, there weren't many people there.

Clover grinned at her. "Don't get so flustered. I normally would've asked you that by now. I didn't, because…well, you know. Didn't want to sound like an asshole."

"You're not," Pyrrha said quietly.

"I actually was engaged to be married when I was at Kadena. Okinawan girl. Her family didn't approve of her marrying an American, though, and…well, that was that." He motioned at her with his coffee. "I'm not always lucky. Anyhow, no, I'm not seeing anyone. And…if you want to go out on an actual date sometime…I'd be okay with that."

Pyrrha felt her stomach roiling. Despite her natural beauty and no end of suitors, she'd always been somewhat shy. She'd always been afraid that men just wanted her for her body, for a notch on a bedpost and the bragging rights to say they had "bagged" the Invincible Girl of Greece. Some men were indeed like that; others were afraid to ask her, assuming that she would turn them down, given that she could have her pick of men. Jaune had seen through all that, ironically by seeing Pyrrha at her worst not long after meeting him. He had accepted her as Pyrrha Nikos, the flesh and blood woman, not the Invincible Girl or the Heroine of Crete or the spokeswoman for an awful cereal. She'd loved him, in every way, and wondered if she could ever even date again after Jaune died. It seemed like an insult to his memory to even think about going out, let alone kissing or making love again.

But Jaune wouldn't want her to be shackled to a dead man. She had to live. "I'd like that too," she told him, in a whisper.

"But not tonight," Clover sighed. "We've got to go to that stupid thing at Jacques Schnee's. And before then, we've got to fly over to Furstenfeldbruck so you can show off the F-22 and I can show off the F-35 to the brass."

"Oh, wonderful," Pyrrha groused. She actually enjoyed doing public relations—especially meeting the children that looked at the aircraft with wide eyes, and flew with her in spirit as she put the Raptor through its paces. Meeting with officers could be good or bad—good, if they were fellow fighter pilots; bad, if they were what Nora called REMFs, Rear Echelon Mother Fuckers, who would sniff haughtily and declare both aircraft were worthless, or worse, would practically snuggle up to her for pictures. REMFs never got closer to the GRIMM than a hundred miles, if that.

"Well, I'll try to keep the touchy feely bunch away from you, anyway," Clover winked.

Pyrrha picked up her last donut. "My hero."

Zagan, Republic of Poland

20 August 2001

Neo Politan strolled to the front door of the small house on Miodowa Street and knocked. A young woman just a little taller than Neo's not impressive height answered the door on the second knock. She stood there mystified as Neo pulled out a card and read from it. "Dzien dobry. Czy mówisz po angielsku?" Good morning, do you speak English? The woman shook her head. Neo nodded and read one more line as she balanced on her umbrella. "Czy mówisz po niemiecku?" Do you speak German?

"Ja," the woman replied. "I speak German."

"Oh, good," Neo answered in the same language; she spoke German well enough, but spoke very little Polish. "I understand you are one of the maids at the Schnee Manor?"

Neo was dressed in a women's business suit edged in pink, and the woman assumed that she was some sort of official. "Yes, I am." A boy of about seven peeked around the door. Neo smiled and waved at him. "Why?"

"Sehr gut," Neo said. "I need to borrow your uniform. We seem to be about the same size." Her smile widened. "I'll be taking your place tonight. Just for tonight."

The woman looked very confused. "I don't understand."

"You don't need to." Neo reached into a pocket of her coat and withdrew a wad of dollar bills, then began counting them. "Here is $500 American dollars for you to stay home." She peeled off more bills. "Here is $200 for your uniform. I will have it dry cleaned after I'm done as well, yes?" She then pressed the entire wad into the woman's hand. "And here is $300 more for your silence. You will return to work tomorrow night. Okay?"

The woman looked through the bills in wonder. The money in her hand represented a month's pay. "I don't understand," she repeated.

"You have heard of Interpol?" The woman nodded. "Excellent!" Neo motioned towards the house. "Your uniform, please."

"Of…of course." The woman ran up the stairs, while Neo knelt in front of the boy. He stared at her heterochromatic eyes. Neo winked at him, showed him the sleeves of her jacket, then, with a flourish, suddenly produced a rose. The child laughed as Neo handed it to him. She straightened up as the woman arrived with her uniform, in a plastic bag. "Now, miss," Neo cautioned, as she took the uniform, "this must stay very quiet, all right? Thank you." Suddenly Neo's smile disappeared. The woman suddenly grabbed her son and held him close. There was something in those eyes that needed no translation.

Neo gave a half-bow, waved to the boy, and walked back to the waiting car, where Watts was waiting. They drove off. "Any problems?" he asked. Neo shook her head. "Good to see that my data was correct. She was the shortest maid I could find after hacking Jacques Schnee's security system." He stopped at a crosswalk as Neo put the uniform and her umbrella in the back seat. "I suppose you threatened to kill her and the boy."

Neo smiled. "I didn't have to."

"Would you have?"

Neo only laughed. She pointed to a roadside café. "I'm hungry."

Berlin-Tegel International Airport

Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany

20 August 2001

"Colonel Branwen." Qrow was surprised at the man who rose out of the chair in front of him. The title of the Luftwaffe's chief investigative officer for air accidents conjured up an image of a short, maybe heavyset college professor with thick glasses. Joachim Beck was none of those things: he was taller than even Qrow's six feet, and built like a weightlifter. Qrow's hand disappeared into Beck's paw, and when he got the hand back, Qrow checked that his fingers were still present and accounted for.

"Sorry about the rush job," Qrow apologized as he took a seat next to Beck. In front of them was an old magnetic tape recorder, several computers, and a large orange box, marked with various warning labels. The latter was a cockpit voice recorder.

"It's all right," Beck told him. "Though I must say, Major, we were extraordinarily lucky. When the C-141 crashed, the tail broke free and went backwards, out of the fireball of the crash. Both the CVR and the flight data recorder were completely intact." He patted the box. "Normally getting the data off of these can take weeks, but this one we were able to do in less than twelve hours. Admittedly, it's a rush job, as you said. We've only got the last ten minutes of the flight."

"That's all we need, Herr Beck." Qrow took the earphones from the investigator and put them on. Beck rewound the tape, then played it forward. He and Qrow listened, four times. As he rewound it a fifth time, Qrow removed the earphones. "Tells me what I needed to know," Qrow said. "Mind if I use your phone?"

"Not at all."

Qrow went over to the telephone and dialed a number. It rang twice, and he smiled when a female voice picked up. "Colonel Schnee."

"Hey there," Qrow grinned.

"Colonel Branwen," Winter replied coldly—but with that ever so slight inflection that meant she was happy to hear from him. "What is it?"

"Got some news for you and Jimmy. The C-141 was definitely not shot down by the Happy Huntresses."

"Your proof?" Winter demanded.

"There were two attacks, all with cannon fire. The first one put out the aircraft's number one engine," Qrow explained. "The pilot of the '141 tried to evade, the poor bastard—the copilot was sending out the mayday call. As the bird turned, the pilot yelled 'That's a damn Sabre!' It's pretty much the last transmission before the usual 'we're going down' and 'oh shit.'"

Winter knew where Qrow was going with this. "The Huntresses don't have a F-86 in their ranks."

"Hell, nobody does—not in Europe. At least not that I know of." Oddly enough, Qrow thought, the person who probably would know was Ruby, who tended to keep track of warbirds somewhere in her head.

"Air pirates," Winter stated. "But that makes no sense either. The closest air pirate band is in Finland, and the F-86 would not have the range to make it." She paused. "Perhaps with wing tanks."

"Sure," Qrow agreed. "But why come all the way down here rather than up around northern Norway or Sweden, where the pickings are easier?" There was silence on the other end, and Qrow continued. "It gets worse. You know the radar station at Putgarten?"

"Of course. Matchpoint." Winter used the radar's codename.

"Yeah. It wasn't working last night. Sudden power outage. Found out this morning at the crash site. It came back on about thirty minutes after the '141 went down." Qrow leaned against the wall. "The whole area lost power. I made some calls. No one knows why, but I bet I do."

"They were hacked. Schiesse. Arthur Watts." Winter sighed. "Well, I suppose that at least clears the Huntresses. I'll inform the general." Another pause. "Thank you, Qrow."

"Thank the guy here in the lab that's been up since midnight." Qrow threw Beck a salute. "You're going to your dad's thing tonight?"

"Unfortunately. The general has required it."

"Was I on the invite list?"

"Not specifically, but as the commanding officer of the 77th, the invitation was implied."

"Good. I'll crash the party." Qrow dropped his voice. "Lots of guest rooms we can get lost in, Ice Queen."

"I intend to spend not one second more than necessary in that manor." Then Winter's voice dropped as well. "Though there is a hotel in Zagan that I suppose we could…get lost in."

Qrow gave a lewd chuckle. "See you tonight, Winter." He hung up and then dialed another number.

Pietro Polendina hung up the phone and leaned back in his wheelchair. "Who was that, Dad?" Penny asked from across the lab. She was lying on a diagnostic bed, getting her daily checkup. Because cloning technology was still experimental at best, no one really knew if Penny's artificially induced aging would cause problems, as she now aged naturally. If at all possible, Pietro checked Penny every day. So far, she was in perfect health.

"Qrow Branwen."

Penny glanced at a newspaper folded in a wastebasket—one with headlines about the massacre at Robyn Hill's victory rally. "Is it about me?" she asked sadly.

Pietro wheeled himself over to her side and took her hands in his own. "No, Penny, no. Everyone knows you had nothing to do with that. In fact, you saved Miss Hill's—" He had to break off as he began coughing.

"I wonder if Robyn Hill was even the target," Penny said. "If the assassin was working for Salem, maybe he or she were just trying to cause as much chaos as possible. Divide us up even more. Just like her people took advantage of my…my sister's death." She used that term for the first Penny, the one who had died just before the attack on Beacon.

"You're right," Pietro said, wiping his mouth with his hankerchief. "And just like back then, someone is using our own technology against us. The C-141 transport that was shot down? Someone switched off the radar at Putgarten just before it, and gave just enough time for the attackers to land somewhere before it was switched back on. Colonel Branwen thinks it was hacked."

A tapping of a cane and the ringing of a bell announced the arrival of Maria Calavera. "Ugh, hacking, technology…I miss the old days when you just fought to the death and called it a day." She set two McDonalds' bags down on a table.

Penny happily pulled off the blood pressure cuff and swung off the table. Then she stopped herself. "I probably shouldn't eat that. It's not very healthy." She pointed at Maria. "You probably shouldn't either, Colonel Calavera."

Maria pulled out a hamburger. "Kiddo, I had to give up smoking and drinking, and I'm too old to chase men. I have to have some vice." Penny decided that she couldn't argue with that logic and sat down at the table as Pietro wheeled himself over. "So who hacked the radar? Isn't there some encryption or something for that?"

"Not if you simply knock out the power grid for the whole area. And if we're dealing with the same enemy from Beacon, they could hack into the power grid fairly easily. It's not designed like military hardware." Pietro pulled out some French fries. His eyes suddenly widened, and he nearly dropped the fries. Penny was by his side in an instant. "No, no, I'm fine," Pietro assured her. "I just thought of something. The power company for most of East Germany…it's part of the Schnee GmbH consortium."

"So?" Maria wanted to know.

Pietro hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing. Just a thought. Something's not right, though."

"Understatement of the century."

Pietro ate some fries, then glanced at Penny. "I'm sorry to ask this, Penny, but could you get the mail? I totally forgot."

"Sure, Dad." Penny got up and went out the front door of the shop. The post office was at the end of the block. As soon as she was gone, Pietro put the hankerchief into the garbage can, beneath the newspaper. Maria noticed there was blood on it. "Pietro," she asked gently, "how are you doing? Really."

Pietro took of his glasses and cleaned them with the tail of his shirt. "If it wasn't for you helping around here, Maria, I'd likely have collapsed by now. Between my rehab work for people around here, and helping Ironwood with research…" His voice trailed off and he looked at the door. "I don't know how much time I have left, Maria," he said. "I'm afraid I'm going to start deteriorating, which is why I've been pushing myself so hard…which is making it worse." He rubbed his eyes. "I just want to make sure my girl is going to be all right, Maria."

She got up, walked over, and pushed him back to the table, then put a hand on his shoulder. "Look…I don't mean to sound like a dumb old bitch, but why don't you just clone yourself some new lungs?"

"My body would almost certainly reject them. And there's ethical issues too, Maria." He reached up and touched her hand. "What Penny is will come out sooner or later. I don't want someone thinking they can grow more Pennies to harvest their organs. When General Ironwood authorized the Paladin Project, I made him agree to that. After this Penny was…born, for lack of a better term, I destroyed the cloning tank." He held up a finger. "Not the technology. That would be selfish. But I won't see people looking at my girl and just thinking she's meat to be used. Cloning limbs and organs on their own, fine—but not complete human beings to be harvested." He coughed again, though this time there was no blood. "Not even to save my life. Maybe others will make that decision, but I won't."

Maria sat back down. "I don't even want to think what would happen if someone like Salem got hold of your work…or worse, Penny. If they could come up with GRIMM, they could reverse engineer the process, couldn't they?" Pietro nodded. "She could mass produce a thinking army, not just drones."

"Let us pray to God that never happens." Pietro quickly pasted a smile on his face as Penny came back through the door. "Thanks, Penny! Now hurry up and eat before it gets cold. This is it until dinner at the Schnee's tonight."

Penny rolled her eyes at the tone of his voice. She kissed his bald head. "Yes, Daddy." She waggled a finger at him jokingly as she sat down as well. "I'm a grown woman, you know."

Poznan-Krezesiny Airbase

Poznan, Republic of Poland

20 August 2001

Weiss Schnee opened the door to Ruby Flight's dorm room and shut it behind her. She looked at the bunks and sighed. Hers was made well enough to bounce a pfennig off of. Blake's was made well enough to bounce a dollar off of—a paper one. Yang and Ruby, on the other hand, hadn't done more than throw their covers over the pillow. Much to Weiss' disgust, Yang's pajamas and underclothes—which were the same thing—were tossed on the bed. Clearly, the two USAF girls were taking advantage of the fact that room inspections were not likely to be done—especially with Qrow Branwen running the squadron. Weiss heard the shower running, which had to be Ruby, as Yang and Blake were out on BARCAP. Ironwood had temporarily lifted their "hack" status for the dinner.

Weiss made a mental note to talk to Ruby and Yang about hygiene, then immediately dismissed it; they wouldn't listen. She unbuttoned her uniform blouse and folded it before putting it in the hamper. As much as she would rather do anything besides go to her family's summer home that night, such as fly into a skyful of very upset GRIMM led by Salem herself, orders were orders. Weiss was determined that her dress uniform and medals would be spotless: she was going to find an opportunity to rub her father's nose in it.

Then she felt something fall from her nose. "Oh, hell," Weiss groaned, and held her nose up as it started bleeding. This happened sometimes during the summer, and always when she was stressed. She looked at the nightstand, where there was supposed to be a box of Kleenex, but that was empty. Dammit, Yang. She went into the bathroom. "Ruby!"

"Eeek!" Ruby yelled in surprise. She stuck her head around the shower curtain. "Oh, hey, Weiss!" Her head disappeared.

"I won't be in here long. Just have to get some tissue for my nose." Weiss pulled off a wad of toilet paper and leaned forward, staunching her bloody nose, and grimaced: Ruby's bra and panties were thrown on the floor. Then she saw something on the counter. Weiss looked at the shower, but the curtain was opaque from the neck down. She could see Ruby's reddish hair, and that was all.

Weiss grabbed what she saw, left the bathroom and went back to the main room. Her nose stopped bleeding, at least, and she tossed the tissue away. Then she knocked on the bathroom door. "Ruby, I have to step out for about half an hour. See you in a little while."

"Okay, Weiss!"

Weiss opened and shut the door loudly, but did not leave. Instead, she put on a T-shirt and sat down at the desk, and waited. She didn't have to wait long. There was giggling and laughing from the bathroom, the door opened, and Ruby walked out stark naked. She wasn't the only one: behind her was Oscar Pine, and he wasn't wearing any clothes either.

"Well, well," Weiss said.

"Holy shit!" Ruby screamed: the room was dark and neither had seen Weiss sitting in the corner. Oscar shrank back against the wall as if Weiss was an axe murderer and covered himself, while Ruby cowered behind the bunks. "Weiss? What the hell? You left!"

Weiss shook her head slowly, as if dealing with a very dimwitted child. "Ruby Rose, you may be the most gullible person I have ever met." She nodded at Oscar. "Good afternoon, Ensign Pine."

"Uh, hi!" Oscar said. He began slowly moving back towards the bathroom, hands still over his groin. "I'm just going to…get my undies…"

"You do that. And perhaps grab a towel for poor Ruby here." Weiss regarded her friend and flight leader, who was kneeling and trying to cover herself. "Or perhaps not. We're both girls, aren't we, Ruby?"

Ruby slowly thunked her head into the side of the bunk. "Oh shit. How did you know?"

Weiss held up what she had grabbed from the bathroom counter—an unopened condom wrapper-and threw it to her. "Glad to see you're being careful, Ruby. It would be very hard for you to lead us into battle against Salem if you were pregnant. But you weren't being careful enough." Oscar returned, wearing his boxers, and handed Ruby not a towel, but her underwear. "If that had been Yang that had walked into the bathroom instead of me, we would have a murder on our hands, on top of everything else." She smiled. "So…you two did have sex in Algiers."

Ruby stood up and began putting on her underwear; Weiss had seen her naked many times before, after all. "Yeah," Ruby admitted. "We hooked up."

"Were you…'hooking up' in the shower?" Weiss raised an eyebrow.

"No!" Ruby insisted. "We were just, um…fooling around."

"Ah. And when I walked in, Oscar made sure he was out of my line of sight." Weiss clapped her hands ironically. "Well done. I admit you had me fooled that nothing had indeed happened or was happening between you two. Not sure about Blake. And I'm certain you've fooled Yang, at least."

"Please don't tell her," Oscar pleaded.

Weiss said nothing. Ruby hung her head. "Okay, Weiss…name your price. What do we gotta do to keep your mouth shut?"

"As tempted as I am to make you perform some horrible action," Weiss said, "I'm not going to say anything to Yang or Blake. Besides, I imagine you two will sooner or later let it slip, and the explosion will be far more entertaining than if I told her. Just remember that Blake has very sensitive ears and nose."

"That's why we've been doing it in Oscar's room when Ren's out," Ruby blurted, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. Oscar covered his eyes.

"That's fine." Weiss got up, squeezed between them, and opened up the closet. "I really do need to head out for around thirty minutes, but—" The building suddenly shook with the noise of jet engines, and Ruby let out a long moan of utter despair. "That sounds like F-14 engines," Weiss commented.

"They are." Ruby banged her head against the bunks again as quieter noise followed that of the Tomcat-undoubtedly the F-23.

"Well, I suggest you repair to Oscar's room."

"Ren's there," Oscar sighed.

"Then you will have to curb your enthusiasms for today." She pulled off her uniform pants, ignoring the fact that Oscar was standing there, and pulled on sweats. "I'm going to work off my lunch with my sister. I would think that you have about thirty minutes…it should take that long for Yang and Blake to postflight their aircraft and deliver their afteraction reports." Weiss walked to the front door. "Thirty minutes. You could give it a try, I suppose, and pray that neither one of them is in a hurry to get back here and get dressed for tonight." Weiss opened the door. "May the odds ever be in your favor."

Ruby ran over to her. "Weiss…please. Please don't tell Yang."

Weiss ran a finger over her lips. "My lips are sealed, Ruby. Honestly." She looked beyond Ruby and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Is...is it good?" She blushed, and Ruby remembered that Weiss was now the last virgin in Ruby Flight.

"It hurt a little in Algiers," Ruby smirked. "But not anymore."

"That's good, I suppose." She put her hands on Ruby's shoulders. "Just be careful, huh? And tell Oscar if he breaks your heart, I'll break him." Weiss pushed her friend back into the room and shut the door.

Ruby put her head against the door for a second, then turned to Oscar. "What do you think? Weiss is right. We have 30 minutes at best." Then her eyes brightened. "Unless Yang and Blake stop off at the chow hall! They always do after a flight!" She sobered. "Well, almost always."

Oscar went over and kissed Ruby, hard. "I'm game."

"Race you!" Ruby proved that she'd lettered in track in high school as she ran to the bed.