ON RWBY WINGS IV: THE JOURNEY WEST
Part IV of "On RWBY Wings"
An Alternate Universe RWBY Fanfiction
By Sentinel 28II
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE: It is July 2001. Ruby Flight—Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee, and Blake Belladonna—are reunited after being split apart after the Battle of Beacon. The Battle of "Haven"—Ashiya, Japan—has ended in victory. The White Fang has been destroyed, though its leader, Adam Taurus, is still at large. The Joint Inter-National Network (JINN) has been recovered by Yang, despite the efforts of Cinder Fall and Raven Branwen to get to it first. Ruby Flight is together again, along with their friends Norn Flight—Pyrrha Nikos, Oscar Pine, Lie Ren, and Nora Valkyrie.
However, the war is far from over. As Ruby and Norn Flights recuperate, they will realize that all of them have changed, some not for the better. Salem is still out there, and it is a long way home…
Aso Bay
Tsushima, Nagasaki Prefecture, Japan
21 June 2001
Cinder Fall surfaced and promptly threw up. She'd been underwater for several minutes, and could only hold her breath for so long before she'd swallowed seawater. As she crawled onto the rocky shore, she collapsed, except for dry heaves that racked her body. Then she lay there in a shallow cove, sucking in wonderfully pleasant air. She was alive, and ten minutes before Cinder was quite sure she wouldn't be.
It had happened so fast. One moment, she had been sitting nicely on the tail of Raven Branwen, about to end the bandit leader's life. The next moment, she was fighting a dying aircraft, after Pyrrha Nikos had fired a missile into her Su-27. She'd somehow managed to get the nose up and turn a lethal crash into a barely survivable one. The impact slammed her head into the instrument panel, and only her helmet had saved her. Water flooding the cockpit through the holed canopy revived her, and after blowing the canopy off, Cinder unstrapped and swam away from the sinking aircraft—but stayed underwater, knowing that Nikos was undoubtedly circling, waiting for her to surface. Pyrrha Nikos was known to have gunned down a dozen air pirates in their parachutes after the pirates had wiped out the Greek girl's squadron; Cinder had killed Pyrrha's lover Jaune Arc, so there was no doubt that she would be happy to gun Cinder in the water. Cinder had swam to shore, staying under as long as she could, with her lungs on fire and blackness at the edge of her vision.
She began to shake uncontrollably. The air was humid and warm, even with the sun beginning to go down, but the adrenaline of the fight to survive was wearing off. Cinder huddled up as best she could in the tiny cove and held herself until the shaking calmed down. At least she wasn't on fire. The memory of dangling in her parachute the last time she'd been shot down, during the Battle of Beacon, as the fire greedily ate at the flesh of her face, as the burning aviation fuel seeped into her eye, made her start trembling all over again. She slammed her remaining hand—her other was artificial—into a rock. The sudden pain stopped the shaking, even as Cinder muttered curse words in several languages.
Cinder heard tires squealing above her. The cove sat on a low cliffside, one that could be climbed easily enough. She looked up and saw a woman's face suddenly appear at the edge of a guardrail. "Konnichi wa!" the woman called out. "Daijobu desu ka?"
Cinder didn't know how to speak Japanese other than a few phrases, but she could gather that the woman was asking her if she was all right. Cinder waved. "Hai, hai!" The woman replied in a stream of unintelligible Japanese, and Cinder tried to remember some of those phrases. Finally, she recalled one. "Nihon go ga hanasemasen!" I don't speak Japanese.
"So ka!" the woman replied. "Do you speak English?" Her English was accented, but not heavily so.
"Yes!" Cinder yelled back. "I'm an American!"
"I will go to the police!" the woman called out. "They will come and help!"
"Just stay there!" Cinder ordered. "I'll climb up. I'm not hurt." Which, to Cinder's surprise, was true. Other than a few bruises and cuts, she'd survived the crash of her fighter unhurt. She might have thought it a miracle, if Cinder still believed in such things.
Cinder had taken off her helmet in the water, since it was heavy, but still had on her gloves, and her flight suit would protect her somewhat. Carefully, she climbed up the fifteen feet of cliffside, finding handholds in the damp rock. About five feet from the top, a cord nearly hit her in the face, and Cinder glanced up to see the woman dangling her jumper cables as an ersatz rope. She grabbed at the cables, and between the two of them, Cinder was able to tumble over the guardrail onto a small turnout. The woman smiled at her and bowed. "Hello!"
"Hi," Cinder puffed.
"You were shot down in the air battle?" The woman twirled her finger above her. Cinder heard jet noises, and her heart shot into her throat as she saw the distinctive profile of the F-22. Nikos was thousands of feet above her, but she could take no chances. "Yes," Cinder replied. "Can you take me to the police station?" A quick sweep on either side: there was no traffic, which was not surprising; Tsushima Island wasn't particularly densely populated.
"Yes." The woman leaned down and put a hand out, and Cinder struck. The knife was in a sheath on her survival vest, a simple push-button gravity knife designed for cutting away parachute cords. She drew it in one motion, and plunged it into the woman's throat with another. The woman gasped, then gagged, then fell as Cinder stabbed her a second time. Blood poured onto the sandy turnout and on Cinder's flight suit. The woman twitched a few times and was still, a look of utter surprise on her face.
Cinder did another quick check of the road, opened the rear door of the car, and dragged the body into the back seat. The keys were still in the ignition. As she pulled out with a shower of sand onto the road, Cinder pulled one of her maps from its waterproof pocket on one of her flight suit's kneepads. Tsushima had a ferry service to Busan. Cinder looked behind her at the body. They were even about the same size.
Naval Hospital Yokosuka
Yokosuka, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan
24 June 2001
Weiss Schnee gingerly tested her legs. Her right leg felt well enough, but the left leg was tender and weak. The nurse shook her head. "I don't think this is going to work. Let me get the wheelchair."
"Fine." Weiss sank back down onto her bed, and tried to think of anything but a full bladder. It had only been three days since she'd been shot down over the Sea of Japan, and for the past two days, any time she'd needed to use the bathroom had required a nurse to come get her, deposit her in a wheelchair, and run her the short distance across the room. It was annoying, though a lot better than having a catheter.
The door opened, but it was not the nurse. Winter looked up and her eyes rounded. "Wi…Winter?"
"Hello, sister." Winter Schnee was dressed in her formal Luftwaffe uniform, and Weiss was doubly surprised to see her elder sibling smiling at her with genuine happiness.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you. I was notified of your shootdown and injury—" Winter was interrupted by the Navy nurse, who gently pushed the colonel out of the way, scooted over to Weiss, and helped her into the wheelchair. "Are you quite all right?"
"I have to pee!" Weiss fended off the nurse and wheeled herself into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. An embarrassed Winter walked hesitantly to the hospital bed. After a few minutes of awkward silence, they heard the toilet flush, the sink run, some muttered German curses, and then the door opened up, readmitting a relieved looking Weiss. The nurse helped her back into bed, spared Winter a glance that told her rank did not matter in a hospital, and left. "Sorry about that," Weiss said. Winter gave a short nod, her hands behind her back. Weiss did not get a hug, but she didn't expect it; her sister was not just named for the season she was born in.
"It's fine. I…I know of your injuries; the phone call I got informed me of them…but are you all right?"
Weiss nodded. "I still can't walk, but the doctors say I'm healing nicely. I should be able to move around on crutches by tomorrow or the day after next. They plan on discharging me next week." Weiss sighed and leaned back against her pillows. "It's very annoying. I can't do anything. The nurse even had to help me shave my legs and get me ready to shower. Ugh."
"Do they think you will fly again?" Winter raised an eyebrow when Weiss let out a snicker. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing. It's just that Ruby asked me that same question." Weiss smiled. "Yes. I will have to rehabilitate my left leg—I tore most of the ligaments, which they surgically repaired—but I will fly again. Hopefully within a month or two."
"Good." Winter still stood at parade rest. "Because I have brought you a gift."
It was Weiss' turn to raise an eyebrow. "What?"
Winter fought back a smile, none too successfully. "I flew Myrtenaster here. It's sitting at Atsugi with the rest of Ruby Flight."
Weiss' face lit up with a beatific grin. "Winter? Are you serious?"
"I am always serious, dear sister."
"But…my God, after what I did back in Germany…I went AWOL, Winter. I'm lucky you're not here to arrest me for desertion."
"What you did was wrong, Weiss, and I wish you had not done it." That was no surprise either, Weiss thought; Winter lived her life by the book. She ate, slept and made love according to regulation—if she even had sex, Weiss mused; Winter was probably too uptight to have a lover. "It was risky in the extreme. And when we heard you had been shot down on that cargo flight over California…" Suddenly Winter's reserve cracked, and a hand quickly came up to wipe her eyes. "We thought you had been killed."
"I came close," Weiss admitted. She remembered the hair-raising flight through the southern California mountains, firing the tail guns of the Antonov An-12 transport in a desperate attempt to fend off the GRIMM drones attacking her. The firefight on the ground against scavengers after the crashlanding, and the death of Rick Tardor, the man who had helped her. The capture and imprisonment in Raven Branwen's bandit camp, with the threat that she might get sold into actual sex slavery unless the Schnee family paid a ransom. That reminded her of something. "How did Mother and Father, and Whitley—how did they take it?"
"Mother was depressed…but you would be proud of her, Weiss—she didn't start drinking. Whitley was worried, though it's hard to tell with him. Father…" Winter's hands clenched behind her back. "Father said he didn't have a daughter any longer, so it was no concern to him."
Weiss gave a derisive snort. "That's no surprise. If it hadn't been for Yang…"
"Which is why I brought Myrtenaster. You will need it, if Ruby Flight is to stay together." Winter smiled. "You have made good friends, Weiss. Unconventional, possibly deranged, but good friends. We'll need them in Europe."
"Europe…" Weiss mused. "How bad is it?"
"Bad," Winter answered. "General Ironwood began Operation Reforger without the permission of NATO; technically, he doesn't need it, but it's a courtesy. There are now three American divisions, plus the three already present, in Germany and Poland. He wanted to deploy two more, but the US Congress blocked the move, and the European Union has declared a moratorium on any further American personnel entering EU borders or airspace." Winter shook her head. "They're only allowing transport flights, and inspecting those for armed personnel. The EU is not allowing even any American fighters or bombers to enter European airspace besides those already there. The exception to this is Menagerie, because of the recent White Fang issues, but even then American combat aircraft cannot proceed any further."
"Insanity," Weiss remarked. "On everyone. Why did Ironwood even activate Reforger?"
Winter's expression turned frosty. "He believes—as do I, Weiss—that Salem's attack on Beacon presages a move against NATO. We were taken by surprise when she attacked here instead." She dropped her voice a little. "We know what she was after here, of course, and we were very happy to hear that Salem did not get her objective." Weiss knew Winter was talking about JINN, the Joint Inter-National Network, though why the mysterious Salem wanted it was still a little confusing to Weiss.
"Has Ironwood told the EU about Salem?" Weiss asked, her voice also a little lower.
"No. He doesn't think they would believe him." Winter sighed. "Unfortunately, since the EU council does not know about Salem, I admit it does look like we're overreacting, or worse, overcompensating for the failure at Beacon. But what choice do we have? Without the Reforger reinforcements, an all-out attack by Salem would roll over Poland in days. They would make it to the Rhine before they were stopped. If then."
"What about NATO readiness?"
Winter laughed harshly. "A joke. Most of the NATO nations have cut back on their military budgets. We're lucky the Bundestag didn't cut the Luftwaffe back." Weiss heard the bitterness in her sister's voice. Winter tended to be singleminded, but Weiss knew the counterargument: why should NATO spend billions of Euros on an threat that seemed nonexistent to London, Paris, Brussels or even Berlin? The Polish and Carpathian Buffer Zones were the only places where GRIMM attacks happened outside of Scandinavia, and even then. Berlin didn't even hold air raid practice anymore, and why should they? The last GRIMM attack on the city had been before Weiss was born. "As it is, we have to rely on mercenary groups to assist with flying combat air patrols."
"The Happy Huntresses?" Weiss smiled.
"Yes," Winter replied sourly. Weiss fought back a bigger smile. The Happy Huntresses were an all-female air mercenary group that operated in eastern Poland, somewhat cooperatively with NATO. They were Huntresses in all but name, free hunters that went after the GRIMM when and where they wanted to, at least inside Polish borders. They were very good at their job—a little too good, which was an embarrassment to the NATO air forces. "They do well enough," Winter grudgingly admitted, "but Robyn Hill has talked about running for the EU Council. There's an open seat this fall."
"The one Father wants?"
"The same."
"Wonderful. How does she even have legal standing?"
"The Poles," Winter explained. "Even though there's not much left of the place, they still are part of the EU. They've agreed to run Robyn—they're saying Robyn's done more for them than the EU has." Winter gave a snort of her own, showing her opinion of that. "Grusse Gott, Weiss. I didn't come here to discuss politics. I came here to see you."
"No, that's all right," Weiss replied. "I've been out of the loop."
The door opened and the nurse stuck her head in. "Colonel Schnee? I'm sorry, ma'am, but visiting hours are almost over."
Winter nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant." She hesitated, then awkwardly leaned over and hugged Weiss, shocking her sister. "I will be here a few days, so we can talk more tomorrow. I…I love you, Weiss." The words were halting—not because Winter didn't mean them with all her heart, but because she was not used to saying them out loud.
Weiss hugged her back. "I love you too, sister." Winter gave her another nod, executed an about-face, and left the room. The nurse watched her leave, and gave a low whistle. "And I thought the Marines were uptight," the nurse said, in a voice she thought Weiss couldn't hear.
Winter walked out of the hospital, putting her hat on and drawing on gloves, although it was hot and sticky outside. She stopped, thinking about if she wanted to head over to the base officers' club for dinner or return to the VOQ.
"Well, hey there, Ice Queen."
Winter turned and frowned as Qrow Branwen strolled towards her. She had the distinct feeling that he'd been walking around the hospital for the past half hour, just waiting for her to leave. "Major Qrow Branwen," she said, as if confronted with a bum asking her for money. The analogy wasn't too far off: Qrow was wearing his flight suit, unshaven with a few days of stubble, in violation of several regulations. "What rock did you crawl out from?"
"It's good to see you too." He leaned close to her. Winter's nose wrinkled. As usual, Qrow smelled like a brewery—one that had been carpet-bombed. "Want to go for a roll in the hay and make a baby?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her; to Winter's shock, he was not at all drunk. "I know this great little love hotel in Kabukicho. It's got mirrored ceilings and revolving beds."
"Why you…" Winter grabbed him by the front of his flight suit. "I should have you court-martialed for speaking to me in such a fashion!" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I'll meet you at the VOQ in one hour. I have a car. Shave." Then she shoved him backwards, put her nose in the air, and walked in the opposite direction.
Qrow grinned and walked away as well, whistling happily.
Demon Bar Shinjuku
Kabukicho District, Tokyo, Japan
25 June 2001
"Wow," Ilia Amitola breathed, her cheeks turning bright red. "This is some…potent sake."
"It is quite something," Blake Belladonna agreed. She coughed.
"Meh," Sun Wukong remarked. "I can think of some Chinese stuff that's stronger." The bar was fairly crowded, but Sun kept his voice down; this was not a time or place to rekindle old Chinese and Japanese rivalries.
"Who cares?" Neptune Vasillas said, putting down his shot. "We're not Beijing or Shanghai or wherever you were born."
"Hong Kong, dipshit," Sun shot back.
"That shithole?"
"Boys…" Blake growled, though she did it with a smile. Sun and Neptune glared at each other theatrically, then burst out laughing.
"Yes, Mom," Sun replied. "I'm going to go grab a beer. C'mon, Neptune, you dumbass."
"Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full, sir…" Neptune followed in Sun's wake, leaving Ilia shaking her head. "My God, there's two of them," she laughed softly.
"Neptune and Sun have known each other since before Vytal Flag," Blake said. "And yes, they're very much alike." She watched the two pilots walk away, both dressed in civilian clothes—Sun, as usual, had left the front of his shirt open to expose his impressive abdominal muscles. They were indeed a lot alike, even if Sun was a blonde monkey Faunus, with a tail curled behind him, and Neptune was a brown-haired human. Their haircuts marked them as military. Neptune had arrived in Japan the day before, aboard the USS George Washington. "Neptune looks better than he did yesterday. You should've seen him, Ilia—he was pale as a sheet." Blake stifled a giggle. "He hates water."
"And he's in the Navy?" Ilia exclaimed.
"It's a long story." She and Ilia both leaned back in their chairs. They were drawing a few stares from the bar patrons. Both women were Faunus, though only Blake was obviously one, with cat ears poking out of her black hair; the interest was because both were rather attractive, and both dressed in rather tight jeans. Ilia sighed in happiness: she'd noted the attention and actually rather liked it. She'd spent her adult life with the White Fang, and over a year as a spy for the Central Intelligence Agency, imbedded deep within the Faunus terrorist organization. For the first time since Ilia could remember, she could simply have fun, without glancing over her shoulder for a policeman or worrying about a suspicious Adam Taurus murdering her.
Blake smiled at her. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
"A little too good," Ilia smiled back. "Like I don't deserve it."
"Well, you're going to have to get used to it," Blake replied. "Going against the White Fang at Ashiya has changed a lot of minds on how humans see us, especially here in Japan. Now it's up to you to take that progress and run with it."
"True," Ilia agreed. "With your father and mother starting a new Faunus movement, I've got faith we can make it work this time." She took a drink of water. "I think I may just take a vacation first, though. I've earned it, and Arashikaze gave me all my back pay yesterday."
"You sure have." Blake pushed her chair back to balance on two legs; Ilia knew she wouldn't fall, as Blake had a rather amazing sense of balance. "I wish I could. Supposedly I was on leave in Menagerie, but I didn't get to enjoy much of it, with people trying to kill me and all."
"They're not giving you any time?" Ilia asked.
"Probably just until Weiss rehabs her leg, and then we're off again. A month if we're lucky—and a lot of that's going to be spent planning and flying. Ruby Flight hasn't flown together in nearly two months. I've gotten used to flying on Sun's wing in his F-18, and now I've got to learn how to fly wing on Yang's weird F-23." She chuckled. "I'm glad Weiss got her Typhoon back, because now I don't feel so strange, being the only member of Ruby Flight who is still flying the same airplane I started with."
"Yeah," Ilia said wistfully. "I wish you didn't have to go."
"I know." Blake toyed with the shot glass. "My flight needs me. Hell, they needed me when Beacon fell, and I wasn't there. I'm not making that same mistake again."
Ilia laughed. "Blake Belladonna: always trying to save the world."
"Well, someone's got to."
Sun and Neptune returned with beers, and plunked them down on the table. "They've got a pool table here. You ladies want to get smoked tonight?"
Blake and Ilia looked at each other and grinned. "You're on."
An hour and two games of pool later, Sun carefully counted the dollars and yen, then stuffed them in his wallet. "Ladies, it's been a pleasure taking your money." Ilia gave him a dirty look. Blake gave him a dirty look and the finger. Sun just laughed as they walked out of the bar. "Well, Neptune, it's still a bit early. What would you like to do?"
"Dude, I've been on a damn carrier for the past two months. What do you think I want to do?"
"Oh, man." Sun turned back to Ilia and Blake. "Well, I'd better go keep an eye on this horny bastard. Unless you want to join us?" The invitation was there, waiting. Blake gave it serious thought: she and Sun had made love in her parents' home in Menagerie, and it had been pretty good. No, Blake corrected herself, it had been damn good.
She gave him a smile instead. "Not tonight, Sun. I should really get back to Yokosuka. Yang and I have a familiarization flight in the morning." She did give him a hug. "Are you guys leaving in the morning?"
"Yeah, but not until late afternoon. Short hop down to Sasebo. Shouldn't be no strain. We'll come by and see you fine ladies of Ruby Flight before we leave to get the band back together." Sun had told them earlier that Ruby Flight wasn't the only independent flight that was being reformed: Neptune and Sun had been ordered to Israel, where they would link up with Scarlet David and Sage Ayana. He'd heard rumors that Coffee Flight—Coco Adel, Velvet Scarlatina, Yatsuhachi Daichi, and Fox Alastair—were there as well. Japan wasn't the only place that had seen increasing GRIMM activity as of late.
"What about you, Ilia?" Neptune grinned widely; if it had been an anime, Blake thought, his teeth would've twinkled. "You want to help us paint the town redder?"
Ilia saw there was an invitation there too; then again, if Neptune was any more obvious with his desire, he would've pulled her into one of the many love hotels in the district. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Not tonight, sailor. I have an early day too."
"Aww," Neptune groaned, but his smile showed he didn't take the rejection personally. "C'mon, Sun. Let's hit the beach."
"We're already on the beach, dumbass," Sun replied, and put an arm around his friend, steering him away from the girls. He winked over his shoulder at them, and both Blake and Ilia stifled giggles as they heard him talking. "Now, I've been to Kabukicho before, Neptune, and there's this place with these Faunus girls. You won't believe what they can do with their tails…"
"Oh God." Blake finally couldn't hold back the laughter any longer. "As my father would say, Neptune's going to end the night screwed, blued and dry-tattooed." Ilia erupted into uncontrollable giggles, and the two girls kept laughing as they left Kabukicho, entering the tamer section of Shinjuku. Ilia had gotten a hotel room earlier, as she intended to blow a very large chunk of her back pay on stuff she didn't need and didn't have a place for. She didn't care: Ilia had certainly never gotten a chance just to have fun shopping when she was with the White Fang. As they walked, Blake and Ilia window-shopped, bought some canned coffee from a vending machine, tried takoyaki-Ilia spit hers out once they were a polite distance from the open-air grill; Blake went back for seconds—and talked about anything and everything, friends enjoying each other's presence for the first time in years. Privately, Blake was happy to see Ilia happy, laughing without restraint, her guard completely down for the first time since they had been children. A few local men made a pass at them, which the two girls politely declined, and they were still laughing about it by the time they reached Ilia's hotel.
Blake stared up at it. "Wow. Five stars."
Ilia shrugged. "Arashikaze said it was worth it for a job well done. I'm not going to disagree." She didn't feel like remembering that the job well done had involved killing people she'd fought alongside for years. There would be time for that later; she felt too good now. "It's still early. Want to check out the room, maybe have a drink for the road?"
"Sure, why not." Blake followed Ilia into the hotel; the interior was just as impressive as the exterior. The suite Ilia had to herself was small, but plush. "The fridge is fully stocked," Ilia told her. "I'm grabbing a quick shower; I smell like cigarettes."
"Okay." Blake reached into the small refrigerator and pulled out a Yebisu Super Dry beer, popping off the top as she heard the shower cut on. She hesitated and then sniffed at herself. "Ugh." She smelled about the same as Ilia did. Luckily shore bases didn't observe Navy shipboard water conservation rules. When she had been on the Reagan, it had been annoying to have to take "Navy Showers," where one got wet, shut the water off, soaped up, and then switched the water back on for a quick rinse.
Ilia didn't take long in the shower, and Blake sat on the bed as her friend came out, wearing a towel and drying her hair. Blake got up and began to turn around, to give Ilia some privacy to change, but suddenly Ilia just simply dropped the towel and stood there naked.
Blake wasn't bothered by it much: she had seen Ilia nude before. When out in the field with the White Fang, privacy didn't count for much, and they had both washed in lakes, streams, or just out of a bucket. She still turned her head away, thinking that Ilia would get dressed.
"Blake…please look at me."
The cat Faunus turned back to Ilia, who still stood there, her hands behind her back. "Ilia, what's going on?" Blake asked, though she had a feeling she knew the answer.
"I'm…I don't know when I'll get another chance to say this, and it feels right to say it now." Ilia trembled, and fought it down. "I love you, Blake. I…I…if it's okay…I want to make love to you. Tonight. Here." Her skin turned colors with embarrassment and nervousness, shifting tones in seconds. "I know I'm not all that much…I don't have large breasts, if you're into that sort of thing…and I'm kind of short…"
Blake set down the beer, stood, and walked to Ilia. The chameleon girl began to shake again, with desire, and closed her eyes, offering her lips for the kiss. Instead, she felt the terrycloth of the towel being gently draped around her. Ilia opened her eyes. "Blake?"
"Ilia…" Blake drew Ilia down to sit next to her, back on the bed. "Ilia, I love you too…but I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I don't…love you like that."
Ilia was silent, then nodded. "I had a feeling you'd say that. After all, you're straight. You were with Adam. And you were with Sun in Menagerie." She angrily brushed tears away from her eyes. "Dammit. I told myself I wouldn't cry if you turned me down."
"How do you know I was with Sun in Menagerie?" It occurred to Blake that Ilia might have spied on the two of them through the guest room window.
"I've seen the way he looks at you, and you look at him. It's the same look you and Adam used to have." She leaned over, the tears running freely now. "I always wanted you to look at me like that."
"I loved Adam," Blake said. "Once. Sun…" Blake paused. "I don't love Sun. I like him a lot, but I don't love him. We had a one-night stand because we were lonely and needed someone."
"But you're not lonely now—" Ilia stopped herself, and used the towel to once more wipe her eyes. "No. Like I said, you're straight."
"Ilia, it's not a question of being straight or gay. It's a question of you being my oldest, and probably my best friend. Think about it. Even if we did make love tonight, would it change that friendship?"
"I don't think it would," Ilia insisted.
"I do," Blake told her. "I'm leaving soon. You'll be leaving in a few days when my folks go back to Menagerie. Who knows when we'll see each other again?" Or if, Blake added mentally. It was going to be a long journey west, and she had a feeling Salem hadn't taken her best shot at Ruby Flight yet. They'd barely survived Beacon; Blake had barely survived the White Fang in Menagerie. Smart fighter pilots knew that their luck only lasted so long. "I can't do a long distance relationship, Ilia. And deep down…neither can you." She put an arm around her friend and pulled her close. "Ilia…what you're looking for…don't look for it in me. You need someone that will love you, fully and completely. And I don't know if I'm capable of that."
"Because of Adam?"
Blake shrugged. "Maybe a little. I'm certainly no longer in love with him." She laughed humorlessly. "If we were ever really in love. I'm starting to think I talked myself into believing I loved him. He thinks he loves me, but he's wrong—Adam wants to possess me, like I'm his little catgirl bitch." The bitterness crept into her voice, and Blake stopped herself. "Sorry. Let's not talk about that asshole."
"Let's not." Ilia sighed. "I knew this wasn't going to work. I'm sorry for doing it."
Blake leaned over and kissed her friend's forehead. "Don't be. I'm flattered. I just wish…I wish I could, but I can't."
"Are you sure?" Ilia had to make one last try. She let the towel fall away again, down to her waist.
"Ilia, no. It wouldn't be loving you. It would be giving you a pity fuck because I feel sorry for you. And I swear to God that I will not do that to you. Not you. Not anyone, but especially not you."
Ila nodded, because she saw the truth in the statement. Blake would always love her as a friend; she'd loved her even when she'd thought they were enemies. Ilia wondered if, she hadn't been a CIA spy, if that love would've caused her to turn on the White Fang anyway. But while they would always be friends, maybe even best friends, they could not be lovers. And in the end, Ilia could not jeopardize that either. "All right." She pulled the towel back up. "It fucking sucks, but all right." She faced Blake, then suddenly smiled. "Although…" She opened her mouth and let her tongue roll out. As a chameleon Faunus, Ilia's tongue stretched well below her chin. Blake went bright red. "Holy shit," she said.
"I know, right? See what you're missing?" Ilia laughed, making it a joke. "The hell with it. Grab a hopeless lesbian a beer, will you? They got Nintendo here, and I still owe you for kicking my ass at Goldeneye when we were kids."
"You're on." Blake hugged her again, and opened the refrigerator.