A/N: Thanks so much for leaving reviews. This was another fun chapter. Enjoy!
Yang grins when she unfolds the paper airplane and sees the words scrawled across it.
Going stir-crazy? Want a night out on the town? Midnight. Tonight.
Yeah, Qrow is the best uncle ever.
She slips the note into Sun's hand when they pass in a hallway. The news will make it to everyone. And they're going to have a good night.
…
"I don't think this is very responsible," Pyrrha says. "You shouldn't be going out in a strange town without supervision."
"We do have supervision. Uncle Qrow is going to be there!" Ruby says, pouting. She's apparently determined that everyone should go, regardless of their comfort.
"Qrow isn't what I'd call responsible," Yang points out.
"Yang, you're not helping," Ruby whines.
"Pyrrha, think of it this way. If you don't go, everyone else will leave anyway, and potentially get lost and die. If you go, you can make sure we all survive." Ren folds his arms, looking pleased. Pyrrha frowns.
"That's – a good point, I suppose," she says.
"Yay! Girls' night out! And guys too, but we're not going to worry about them!"
Yang puts a little bit of effort into her appearance for once. It's her first time out of the regulation pink scrubs in weeks. Besides, she wants Blake to look at her, then hastily glance away, the way she does when she thinks Yang can't see her. So Yang wears her good heels and too-red lipstick, and winks at Blake when they rush outside.
Qrow borrowed Tai's van, which is probably a sensible decision, but makes him look like he's trying to kidnap them. Which, technically, might be accurate.
Qrow pulls away from the fence and tosses a handful of fake IDs towards the back.
"Find one that's a rough match," he says.
He really is the best uncle ever.
It only takes them fifteen minutes to get into a larger town, with nightlife spilling out onto the sidewalks. It's startling. Yang had always sort of assumed that True Directions was really in the middle of nowhere, and it feels like a bubble, trapped in eternal suburbia. It doesn't seem right that there are neon-lit gay bars with names like The Cocksucker so close by.
Not like she minds. Weiss is visibly wincing at the name, which Yang's going to tease her about later. There's rock music filtering through the windows, and people in neon feather boas on the sidewalk, and it's Yang's kind of place.
"Stay with at least one other person and be back here by four or I'll leave you behind. And don't tell your dad I'm letting you drink."
"You got it," Yang says, then hops out of the van and extends a hand to Blake. Blake doesn't take her hand but does follow her. She almost blends in with the shadows, with her dark hair and a black button-down shirt tucked into dark jeans, but her eyes stand out. They look brighter than the neon lights.
Okay, slow down. She's shy, and Yang is going to respect that.
Yang pushes through the crowd to pick up a few beers, then makes her way back to Blake, who is huddled in a corner, looking frozen.
"You okay?" Yang asks, opening one bottle and taking a sip.
Blake nods, then takes the other bottle. She doesn't say anything, so Yang tries to fill the void with vague chatter.
…
Blake can't breathe.
There are too many memories. Yang is too tall in her heels, pinning her into a corner.
She needs to get out.
Blake mumbles an apology and heads for the door.
An alleyway around the back of the building is cleaner than she expected. She leans against a wall, drinks in the cold air, wishes she had a cigarette to calm her nerves. She's never liked crowds and loud music.
Yang follows her out, of course, smiling.
"I get it. Music's too loud, too many people."
She doesn't get it. Yang lives for crowds and music and everything that Blake isn't. Blake is the quiet one who hides in libraries and doesn't make friends, and Yang will never understand that, and she has no idea why the two of them are drawn together.
"Why do you keep following me?"
Yang shrugs.
"We're supposed to be looking out for everyone at the camp, and you don't really have anyone else, so I'm just keeping an eye on you to make sure you don't die."
"Really?"
"And I like you a lot, but that's kind of a side note. Plus, you kind of hate my guts, so I wasn't really going to mention that."
"I hate you now?"
"I mean, you keep trying to avoid me. You pretty much ran away when I suggested we work together on 'Simulated Childcare 101.'"
"I mean, 'we've known each other for a week, so let's have kids' seems a little fast."
Yang laughs, then sobers.
"Blake, I'm serious. Why do you keep avoiding me?"
"I'm not supposed to get attached to anyone here."
"Says who?"
"If there's someone I need to protect, I won't be able to survive this."
Yang opens and closes her hand. The marks across it have faded into white scars.
"You don't need to protect me," she says. "We'll protect each other. We'll take care of each other, and fight for each other, and we'll make it out alive."
That was the right thing to say. Blake doesn't like being protected. She knows how that ended. She doesn't like being dependent, being a burden, being someone's responsibility. But she likes the idea of being Bonnie and Clyde.
She laughs, and Yang laughs too, then frowns at her.
"What's so funny?"
Blake wraps her hands around the edges of Yang's leather jacket, then pushes her into a wall and kisses her until she can't breathe.
"I take it you don't always hate me?" Yang offers when they break apart, breathing heavily.
"I'll go with 'I like you a lot,'" Blake says, smiling.
"Good enough."
…
"I need something pink," Nora announces to the bartender. "I don't care what it tastes like, as long as it's pink."
"Haven't you had enough pink at True Directions?" Ren asks. "I'll be happy if I never see that color again in my life."
"Nope. Girly drinks give me girly superpowers. That's how alcohol works."
Ren gives a quiet sigh of despair.
"Sounds like a plan," Jaune announces. "Bartender, I'll have what she's having."
The bartender looks mildly annoyed that nobody's actually using his name, but pushes two glasses across the counter. Jaune takes a sip and immediately starts coughing his lungs up.
"It burns!"
Pyrrha suppresses her laughter and pats him on the back soothingly. She's going to take care of her friends, since they seem incapable of doing that themselves. She's always good at being responsible.