"I can't believe you're actually going to wear those."

"Well, start believing!" Ruby laced up her trusty pair of combat boots. "What's wrong with them, anyways? They fit my color scheme and everything!" To her eye, the black-red boots meshed nicely with her black stockings and red-black 'fancy' dress. What exactly made it fancy, besides the price tag, she couldn't say. It didn't look all that different from her combat skirt. Ruby didn't understand this fashion stuff.

Weiss sniffed in disapproval. She smoothed down the hem of her white formal dress (not to be confused with her white regular dress. Yeah, Ruby really didn't get this fashion stuff). "It's uncultured, Ruby. There's a well-established dress code for these things, and wearing the same shoes for dancing and killing Grimm is a major breach of—" Nora rested her cheek on her hands and made fake snoring noises. "Hey!"

Ruby stuck her tongue out. "Well, that's dumb." It wasn't like she was going to track Beowolf guts all over the floor. Beowolves didn't have guts! Her boots looked clean as a whistle—even cleaner! Weren't whistles usually covered in spit? "Maybe I don't wanna be cultured, if it means wearing some stupid dumb foot trap!" Seriously, what sadist had come up with that tradition? For some reason, she pictured a creepy old hag with demonic glowing eyes, cackling away in a dark castle of evil-ness. YES! I'll make them do complex footwork, wearing stilts that make walking impossible! AHAHAHA! "Why do you care so much, anyways? I'm going with Jaune, not you."

"Ooh, burn!" Nora exclaimed. Weiss's brow furrowed, but before she could unleash the inevitable flood of Schnee family vinegar (trademark pending), there was a knock on the door. Phew! "Oh, hey Jauney!" Nora called. "Real nice segue. Perfectly timed." She turned to one side and winked at nobody in particular. "Um, it is you, right, not some random stalker?"

"Yeah, it's me." Jaune's voice said. "I'm outside your door." he added, completely unnecessarily. "So, uh...should I wait out here, or come in, or what?"

"All right, listen to me." Weiss said urgently. "Your first impression will set the tone for the whole evening, so consider it wisely. I suggest—" Ruby ignored her and opened the door like a normal person, revealing Jaune in his Sunday best. Whoa! For a moment, all three girls stopped in their tracks and stared. As much as their teams hung out, they'd never seen him quite like this before.

"BAHAHAHA!" Ruby recovered from her shock and doubled over laughing. "What did you do to your hair, Jaune? It's like a pineapple!"

Looking crestfallen, Jaune put a hand to his head. "Aw, crap." His blond hair usually hung loose, but today he'd certainly...done something differently. Defying physics, it somehow stuck nearly straight up, ending in spiky points. He slightly resembled a cartoon character midway through a power-up. "Is it that bad?"

"You look like a piece of corn!" Nora giggled. Jaune groaned and slumped his shoulders, like Zwei when he didn't get enough dog treats. Aww, now Ruby just felt like a meanie. He'd probably spent a long time trying to look good for their friendship strengthening exercise, and her first reaction had been to laugh in his face. "Sorry!" She reached up and rubbed his hair in apology. "Ow!" Holy crap, how much hair gel did he use? It was like petting a porcupine! "I, um, appreciate it and all, but you know, I think your normal hair's fine. No need to get all fancy on me. Because you're not fancy! I'm not fancy! Look at this!" She raised a booted foot into the air. Then promptly lost her balance and fell on her butt. "Ow."

"You all right?" Jaune extended a hand to help her up. Something seemed awfully familiar about this. "Honestly, I think your boots look fine. So does the rest of you—okay, phrasing...you look good, I mean. Really rocking that red-and-black color scheme, you know?" He reached into his pocket. "Oh yeah! I brought a flower this time!" Jaune pulled out a slightly crumpled-looking red rose. "Weiss, am I doing it right?" he whispered loudly.

"Oh, thanks." The rose still had a bit of dirt on it. Ruby wondered if he'd picked it fresh from the school flowerbeds. "I'll just leave it here." Ruby deposited the flower on her bedside table. She'd figure out what to do with it later. Another strange tradition. Her name might be a flower and her weapon a farm tool, but that didn't mean she knew a thing about gardening. Dad was the one with the green thumb, or so he claimed, but Ruby's thumb was...a normal color for thumbs to be, and she liked it that way.

"I—" Weiss made some funny choking noises. "You know what, I don't think you need my advice." she sighed. "I'm sure you'll get along just fine." On that note, she marched straight out the door. "Enjoy yourselves."

"Welp, guess it's just us." Jaune said. "Team...uh, R.N.J.—hey, where's Ren?"

"We told him to stay in the bathroom!" Nora said brightly. "Until we finished changing...oh! Ready or not, here I come!" She flung the bathroom door open with a loud bang, to Ren's shrieks of surprise. "COME ON RENNY! Put your pants back on! Time to strengthen our friendship!" With speed to rival Ruby's own, Nora yoinked her quiet partner out of the room by the elbow, leaving only a Ren-and-Nora shaped dust cloud, and a doorknob-shaped dent in the wall.

Ruby and Jaune followed at a more leisurely pace. She wondered if she should take his arm as well. Were you supposed to do that for friend-dances? Then again, Nora and Ren were going as friends too—wait, why was she considering following Nora's example? Then again again, maybe it was rude to not offer. If only she had some sort of dance manual to consult; dang it, where was Weiss when you actually needed her? Screw it, she was a team leader, she could figure this out! Trying to look casual, Ruby reached out with her right arm. If it got too weird, she'd play it like she was just stretching. It was the perfect plan, but then her arm bumped into something. At the exact same moment, Jaune had reached out with his left, and now they were walking down the hall rubbing forearms. Oh gosh, this looked so dumb. But pulling her arm back felt way too mean, and grabbing on felt too aggressive because what if he was only trying to be polite too and AAHH, curse her social awkwardness.

Jaune ended up bailing them out. "O-oh." he mumbled. Then a lightbulb seemed to go off above his head, or maybe his hair just looked like one. "Mine lady." Jaune put on a ridiculously stuffy old-timey voice. The medieval knight impression suited him oddly well. "Wouldst thoust, um...liketh to walketh with me?"

Ruby cracked up. "What was that?" The tense moment faded, and she hooked her elbow around his. "I mean, sure...eth? I hath, um...decidedesteth that-eth I wilt?"

"Decided-what, now?" Jaune burst out laughing himself. "That was so bad! That suckethed!"

Holy crap, what were they looking at? All Ruby could see through the ballroom doors was a bunch of fire and smoke in a sea of darkness. It reminded her of the pamphlet she'd gotten from that crazy guy on Patch once, promising an eternity of fire and brimstone for kids who played video games and listened to rock music. Gah, she'd had nightmares for weeks! "Um, Yang?" she pointed out. "You might need to call the fire department."

"Nah, it's supposed to be like that." Her sister, clad in white, greeted them from behind a podium. A large sign was attached to the front ('Vytal Festival Dance: Presented by Team SJBY'), with a black snowflake, two golden arcs, Yang's fiery heart, and Blake's...flower? campfire?...whatever the heck her emblem was, prominently displayed. Yang's eyes found the top of Jaune's head, and she started snickering. "Aww, you look beautiful. And so does Ruby!" Jaune sighed in resignation. "It's all right, dude, we all have bad hair days. Just go easy on the gel next time. And Rubes, aren't those your normal boots? What's up with that?"

"Not you too." Ruby grumbled. Why was everyone harping on her shoes? She was a strong independent Huntress who didn't need to conform to unrealistic footwear standards, darn it!

"Is it just you out here?" Jaune asked. "Need me to man the doors for a bit?"

Yang shook her head. "I'm good, thanks. Just have fun in there. I'm kind of the best at this, anyways. Like, holy crap, can you imagine how Sable and Blake would greet people?" Both Ruby and Jaune cringed. As they made their way inside, she got a better look around the room. A tall ring of burning yellow flares surrounded the dance floor, leaving just enough space in between for a person to pass through. More flares lit up the middle of the room, but the outer part was cast in shadow, which the all-black decorations only emphasized. To complete the scene, a thick layer of white fog blanketed the floor.

"Wow." Jaune whispered. "I didn't think it would turn out so spooky. Feels like a killer's going to turn up any moment." Luckily, no chainsaw-wielding maniacs walked by, only Emerald from Haven and her gray-haired partner.

"I kind of like it, actually!" Ruby said. "Reminds me of my birthday." It brought back memories of the haunted house the family used to visit every October 31st, until that one time some guy in an Ursa suit clawed Yang's hair on accident. Needless to say, the Rose-Xiao Longs were never allowed back. The gothic color scheme extended from the ceiling down to the table settings: black chairs and black tablecloths, black flowers in a black vase. The only hint of color was a splash of red in a bowl—"Oh my gosh, strawberries!" She crammed fruity goodness into her mouth by the fistful, leaves and all. "Besht dance evah."

"Yep, that's our official team fruit. For obvious reasons." Jaune explained. "Um, shouldn't you slow down?" Bah, she'd be fine! Ruby was an expert at doing all things the fast way, eating included. "Man, you really like those, huh?"

"My favorite food." Ruby mumbled. A stream of red juice dribbled onto the tablecloth. "Everyone sheems to shink ish cookiesh. Dunno why." Closing her eyes, she let the outside world just fade away. For a moment, nothing existed except the flavors bursting in her mouth, the feeling of leaves and crunchy little seeds on her tongue, and the squelching noise as a river of strawberry pulp poured down her throat. "Mmm."

"Uh-huh. Take your time." Jaune waited for her to return to reality, looking mildly freaked out. "So...do you want to, like, dance, or something?"

Oh yeah. That was sort of the point of this whole thing, wasn't it? "I guess? I, uh, I don't really know how though. Wouldn't want to step on your feet." She glanced nervously at the flares. "Or set you on fire."

"No need to worry!" Jaune stuck his hand out again. The confident grin looked completely unnatural on his face. "I think I've got enough skill for us both."

"You can dance?"

"Hey! Why the tone of surprise?" Jaune pouted. "I'm good at some things, you know! Not a lot, but some! I have seven sisters!"

"What do seven sisters have to do with it?" Ruby had one sister, and she couldn't dance at all. Seven times zero was still zero, wasn't it? Still, she wiped off (most of) the strawberry juice and grabbed his hand. "I'm starting to think that's your excuse for everything."

"Well, can you blame me?" Jaune turned sideways so he could squeeze through a gap in the fiery. "I have seven sisters!"

Ruby had to think that one over a bit. "Oh. Makes sense." In her distraction, her nose came perilously close to the flames, but she made it through. "I think?"

"Cheers lads." said Scarlet. Team SSSN all bumped cups—with a dull plastic thud rather than the clink of glass—and chugged. The red, generically fruit-flavored punch wasn't much of a challenge, but at a school dance, they'd take what they could get.

"To bros." Neptune hiccuped, slamming his cup onto the table. "Just four bros, chillin' in the corner, nothin' wrong with that." Sun wondered why his partner was slurring his words after one helping of fruit punch. Hopefully it was his idea of a joke. "Who needs girls, am I right?"

Scarlet smirked. "I bloody well don't."

Neptune winced. "Right. I mean, who needs girls or boys? No, wait, we're boys, I meant boys in the other way—" Tuning out his partner's verbal diarrhea, Sun gave the room a quick scan. A pink-haired boy and a green-haired girl chatted at the next table—fellow Haven students if he wasn't mistaken (which, after skipping half the semester, he might well be). He made out bits and pieces of their conversation ("Hey Nadir, 50 Lien if you eat those flowers." "Pfft, easy! Pay up, Reese."). A group of four, three boys and a girl, were sticking their arms into the fire (?!). As he watched, a dark-skinned boy with dreadlocks pulled out; he rubbed his arm, Aura flickering, to jeers from his teammates. Yep, definitely from Vacuo. In the middle of the desert, with nothing but sand for company, people did some weird shit for fun. Out on the dance floor, two giants in metal armor stuck out like sore tails...flanking a short girl in a pink bow.

"Holy shit, who showed up to the dance with bodyguards?" Neptune exclaimed. "Hey, isn't that your girl, Sun? Who is she, Ironwood's daughter or something?"

"Or something, yeah." Sun stood up. "Sorry to ditch the bro-fest, guys, but I promised someone a dance."

"Good luck, boy." Scarlet waved farewell. Neptune threw up prayer hands in the background. "We'll pour one out for you."

Penny bopped to the beat of the music, eyes closed and smiling softly—wait, she was doing the robot. That was a bit on-the-nose, wasn't it? Otherwise, she easily passed for a perfectly normal superpowered, monster-killing, lethal-weapon-wielding teenage girl. The two Atlesian soldiers, on the other hand, stood impossibly stiff and still on either side, looking like a pair of, well, robots. Ironic. Why were they even here? They looked scary, sure, but Penny probably had more power in her little finger than both of them combined. In place of her regular green-and-white outfit, she wore a lime-green number that left her arms and legs bare. Wow. Her father/creator had done a hell of a job on her skin. Bit on the pale side, but she still looked more natural than the Schnee twins (seriously, no wonder there were those rumors about them drinking faunus blood). And no sign of any stitches or seams, no matter how hard he looked, and he was looking pretty hard...okay, he should probably stop. No lewding the robot!

"Yo, Penny! Glad you made it!" Penny's green eyes snapped open at his shout, and her smile widened. "I'm here! I-I promised you, didn't I? You, uh, you look...great." Sun's voice came out all nervous and stammery for some reason. He tugged at the white tie Neptune had forced him to wear, trying in vain to loosen it. Stupid thing must be screwing up his vocal cords.

"Thank you! You look splendid as well!" Penny beamed, hugging him tight. His heart rate spiked; it was probably just a natural reaction to Penny's grip strength. "That tie looks quite good on you!" Oh! Maybe the diabolical neck trap wasn't so stupid after all. Just for that, the tie would be allowed to live in his closet, rather than going straight in the trash. "Though I rather enjoyed being able to see your abdominals." Damn. He considered unbuttoning his shirt on the spot, but thought better of it. Those soldiers might take it the wrong way.

Especially considering how trigger-happy they seemed already. "HALT!" The soldier on the left (Penny's right) bellowed, hand on his sidearm. "Unidentified faunus! Cease physical contact with Miss Polendina immediately! Per standard operating protocol, maintain minimum distance of three feet at all times!"

"Excuse me." Penny held up a finger. She turned and addressed the soldiers in a monotone voice. "Recognizing Sun Wukong as verified party. Requesting bypass of social distancing parameters."

Left Soldier thought about it, then saluted crisply and clicked his heels. "Roger!" His colleague shrugged and nodded. Sun exhaled. "That was intense." he said. "Are they always like that?"

"Of course! The soldiers of Atlas are ever vigiliant!" Left Soldier boomed. "None other have the wit and tenacity our task demands! Because the Atlesian Military is the greatest in the world!" He ended his spiel with a vaguely unsettling stiff-armed salute.

The Atlesian Military was also the only in the world, but Sun kept that thought to himself. Right Soldier sighed. "Speak for yourself." Only his mouth and chin were visible under his helmet, but the poor man looked thoroughly done. "He transferred in from Argus last week, and he's talked like that the whole time."

That bit of theatrics done with, Penny took Sun by the hands. "How would you describe your dance proficiency, Best Friend?" she asked. "Beginner, Intermediate, or Expert?"

"Psh. Super Expert!" Sun declared. Who did she think he was, Neptune? His whole fighting style was based on flips and jumps and fancy parkour stuff; compared to that, a bit of ballroom dancing was child's play. His top score on Haven's DDR machines proved as much.

"Oh my!" Penny gasped. "Are you sure?"

"Hundred percent, Penny." He appreciated her concern, but come on, how tough could Penny's maximum difficulty be? He really doubted that top-secret military labs threw raves on a regular basis (if they did, then boy, had he chosen the wrong profession). "Trust me. My body is ready!"

"So be it." Penny said solemnly. Her eyes glowed a faint green. "Initiating dance procedure, level Super Expert in three...two...one..."

Holy shit, his body was not ready!

"Wow!" Jaune gasped. "I didn't know she could do that!" Every dancer on the floor watched as Penny lifted her much taller partner overhead with one hand, spinning rapidly in place. She tossed Sun halfway up to the ceiling, the monkey faunus screaming in mixed fear and excitement, then caught him bridal style and dipped him. Sun kicked one leg high in the air and winked at the crowd, to cheers and wolf-whistles. Dang, the guy was flexible! Jaune saw Nora grab Ren around the waist, a mischievous gleam in her eye; he whispered a brief prayer for his fellow dude.

"Yeah." Ruby muttered. "I feel super lame now."

"Not at all!" Jaune reassured her. "You've actually got pretty good moves, for your first time!" Ack! Phrasing again, damn it. Luckily, the semi-innuendo went right over Ruby's head. "Okay, now turn clockwise—yeah, like that." He guided her through a few last steps, and then the song was over.

Ruby kicked her legs happily. "Phew, that was a workout. So glad I ditched the heels. I'm gonna go grab some more straw—punch. Yeah. Punch." Jaune followed her back through the fire, into the dimly lit outer part of the room. "Hey, have you seen—AAH! A GHOST!" she suddenly shrieked. "Oh...uh, hey Sable." Jaune's partner stood alone in the dark, silently watching the proceedings with a drink in hand. His hair and clothing blended into the gloom, while his pale face floated above the fog like a jumpscare from a video game. A low-budget game at that, one which couldn't afford to render his whole body. Sable nodded at them briefly, but said nothing; somehow, that was even creepier. Judging from how she fidgeted in place, Ruby felt the same.

"Go get your punch. I'll catch up." Jaune whispered. Now it was just the two partners staring at each other. Why had he thought this was a good idea, anyways? "Um, I like your outfit?" he ventured. Instead of his usual black suit jacket, Sable wore a slightly different-looking black suit jacket (Jaune didn't really get this fashion stuff), unbuttoned, over a gray vest. He'd exchanged his regular neck-thingie—a cravat, that was what it was called—for a fancier one with a bunch of frills and ruffles. "It's, uh, really unique."

"Thank you. I don't know why none of the other boys had any creativity." That was sort of weird, come to think. How had every other boy (except Sun) decided to wear the exact same style vest and jacket, plus a bowtie? "These look suspiciously like our school uniforms, have you noticed? And good gods, what did you do to your hair?" Stepping closer, Sable poked at the rigid yellow mess, shaking his head in distaste. Jaune caught a faint floral scent. "Use less gel next time."

"Yep. Live and learn, huh?" The conversation died again. His own partner, and they could barely string two sentences together. How depressing. "So, um, how are you doing?"

"Just fine." A hint of annoyance crept into Sable's voice. "Shouldn't you get back to your date? It's rude to keep a girl waiting, you know." That was his cue to give up on this awkwardness and go eat snacks with Ruby, but whether out of courage or stupidity, Jaune actually felt more at ease now. 'Annoyed' was pretty much his partner's default mood, anyways, and he'd estimate this at only about Level Three on the imaginary Sable-meter.

"Well." Jaune pushed his luck a bit more. "I, uh, I could say the same to you?"

"Are you seriously this dense?" Sable hissed. "Or are you trying to piss me off?" Oh, crap. The Sable-meter immediately shot up to Level Seven. Jaune felt the metaphorical ice he skated getting pretty thin. In his mind's eye, he could see the flashing countdown above his partner's head "I'm sorry!" Jaune babbled. Quick, cut the red wire! "Oh, oh, um um, um, is it a guy? I shouldn't have assumed—I mean, my sister's married to another woman—"

Wrong wire. "No! You dense bastard!" Sable tried to smack Jaune over the head, only to prick his hand on the hairy spike trap. "Ow! Well, sort of, but...no. There is no girl, and there is no guy! What on Remnant made you think there was? Do I look like some—some insecure little boy? Who needs a girl on his arm to not feel like total garbage?" Hey! Was that supposed to be an insult? It wasn't completely inaccurate, though. Sable crossed his arms, seeming to regain some composure. "I simply wasn't inclined to ask anyone, and no one asked me." His eye started twitching. "No one worth considering, that is. Three different idiots thought I was a girl!" Oof, that brought back some memories he'd tried very hard to suppress. "So there's no need to worry about me. I'm doing perfectly all right."

"Are you though?" Jaune had pretended to be 'perfectly all right' for most of first semester, and he had a feeling this was more of the same. In his experience, people in a good mood usually didn't hole up in a dark corner and explode at innocent questions...also, he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Oops. A horribly familiar expression crossed Sable's features—none other than the 'holy shit this dumbass has no Aura' face from initiation. Jaune somehow felt himself freezing solid and burning alive at the same time. Icy-Hot indeed. With an ominous crack, his partner's plastic cup split open, sending red punch running down his fingers. Jaune instinctively shielded his vital bits, but with noticeable effort, Sable turned aside, dropped the ruined cup into the trash, and wiped his hands.

"You know, you used to be afraid of me. I miss that." he said through clenched teeth. "So you're feeling sorry for your sad, lonely partner, are you? You think I need your pity, Jaune?"

"Ah...you're still scary." Jaune wiped his forehead. His hand came down wet. There was a damp feeling in his armpits, too, which had nothing to do with dancing. Hopefully they gave this tux a good clean before the next guy rented it. "And no! Of course you don't need it! I mean, I'm, well, me, and you—you're pretty incredible, yeah? You're smart and strong and talented and pretty—pretty good at leadership!" Good save. He really needed to kick his habit of word-vomiting, along with his habit of actually vomiting. "I just wanted to check on—I mean, you did most of the work on the dance, well you and Yang, I think you deserve to enjoy some of it—"

"Enough!" Sable made a 'zip it' gesture. "Why the flattery all of a sudden? Don't tell me—are you trying to ask me to dance? For shame! You've got Ruby already! I—I'm not interested in that kind of arrangement, okay?"

"No! Not what I meant! I'm not even into g...group dances." Jaune really could use a cup of punch right now, to wash the taste of his own foot out of his mouth. "But, uh, I'm sure there's someone for you." Wow, did that sound condescending or what? "O-or you could dance on your own! You don't need anyone else to make everyone, uh, love us and despair or whatever you said...yeah! Unless you can't—er, you don't have a lot of experience dancing? I could—"

"I am an excellent dancer, for your information!" Sable bristled. "Certainly better than you."

"Wait, were you watching—"

"No." Sable said firmly. "Fine, I'll go enjoy myself. Will you shut up now?" His partner stalked off, presumably to terrorize everyone with the power of waltz. "See you out there, Jaune." Jaune just stood there, trying to get his legs to work properly, until Ruby came back, a cup of punch in each hand and a suspicious amount of red juice around her mouth. "Everything okay?" she asked. "Oh my gosh, you're all sweaty! What happened?"

"Sable happened." he explained. Ruby nodded in sympathy and passed him a cup. Ahh, friendly human contact. "But I think everything's gonna be all right!" The theoretically strawberry-flavored punch tasted more like sugar and food coloring, but he'd never had a more refreshing drink. "Really need to sit down for a minute, though."

"We totally suck, Weiss-berg." Yang quipped. Door duties done, she'd ended up sharing the heiress's table. Not the most exciting company, but at this point, she'd take what she could get. "Look at those dorks!" On the dance floor, she spotted Ruby and Jaune, Ren and Nora, even Sun and that weird Atlas girl with the lasers. "And look at us, huh? Some of the best-looking kids at this school, and nowhere to go."

"Weiss-berg? That's a new one." Weiss nibbled at some sort of apple tart, her pinky and ring fingers stuck out in stereotypical rich-girl fashion. "And if that was meant to be an invitation, I'll have to decline. I'd rather avoid that mess, thank you very much." There was a shrill scream, and Yang saw Russel Thrush frantically trying to beat out the flaming sleeve of his tuxedo. A frazzled-looking Professor Goodwitch ran up and blasted him with a fire extinguisher. "Find a different victim. Or just dance alone. It's not that shameful."

"You're no fun." Yang looked around for an available victim—sorry, dance partner. She suddenly realized how few people at the dance she actually recognized (had there always been so many generic-looking students?). And of those, there were even fewer she talked to regularly; fewer still who weren't taken—actually, just two, both of whom slept in the same room as her. What the hell had gone wrong with her social life? A black shadow hovered by the seafood bar, an ever-growing tower of plates at her side...Blake was a lost cause. Clearly the actual dance wasn't what she'd come for. And no sign of their dear leader. Well, forget him. If he was under the delusion that he was too good to hang with the rest of them, that was his problem.

"Hey." There was the familiar sound of someone's hands slamming against a table. Speak of the devil. Seriously, what did Sable have against cheap furniture? "They're putting on a sad display out there, aren't they?" he said. "Someone should show them how it's done."

Huh. Yang was no stranger to boys approaching her at a dance party, but this was easily the most indirect proposition she'd ever heard, if it even was one. She turned to Weiss for help; the heiress coughed lightly and started blinking in odd patterns. Gods damn it, did it look like she knew Morse Code? "Well, well, well." Yang leaned back in her chair. "I wonder who someone could be. Surely not us two?" She offered up a coy smile. "Getting lonely up on that high horse, is it?"

"No." Sable stubbornly folded his arms over his frilly cravat—ye gods, that thing was at least two centuries out of style. Yang couldn't decide whether it was a charming throwback or plain stupid. "I was just stating the facts."

"Hrk!" Weiss nearly choked on her pastry. "Why are you like this?" she sputtered. "Ask her normally, you—you emotional cactus! I can't believe I'm saying this, but Jaune did it better! Jaune!"

"Eh." Sable looked away. Yang could see his left hand balling into a fist. "I mean, if you think you can keep up with me, you're welcome to try."

That was probably as good as she'd get. Sheesh, and they said girls were the ones who played hard to get. "You know what, fuck it. Challenge accepted." Yang stood up, chair clattering to the floor. Take that, furniture! "And you're the one who'll have to keep up, Icy-Hot! I've been hitting the club since I was old enough to sneak out of the house!" How old was that, like...six? Okay, maybe she was slightly exaggerating. "Think you can compete with that?"

"Demolishing a nightclub with your fists hardly counts as dancing." Sable replied. What—oh, hitting the club! Ha! Yang snickered, while Weiss sighed. "Besides, I grew up with this stuff. Do you have any idea how much rich people love their balls?" Yang snickered more. Probably a lot, in both meanings of the word.

"Phrasing." Weiss interjected. "And standing in the corner, glaring at everyone, hardly counts as dancing."

Sable glared at his sister. "Slander and lies. Don't believe her, Yang, I did a lot more than that!"

Yang recognized the smile on Weiss's face; it was the same look she had, when she was about to dig up one of Ruby's embarrassing old stories. "Oh, yes. How could I forget? There was also that one time he set the bar on—"

"No one can prove that!" Sable said defensively. "And if, hypothetically, I did, I would've needed some help."

Suddenly, Weiss looked as queasy as if she'd bitten into a poisoned apple. "Ah-bah-bah-bah!" The heiress cut him off with a stream of gibberish, waving her arms like some wacky inflatable tube-man in front of a car dealership. "Say, don't you have places to be? Time's a-wasting!" She grabbed Yang and Sable's hands and slapped them together. Huh, surprisingly soft, for a boy—well, maybe not all that surprising. "Have fun, you two."

Yang snorted. "Fine, fine. Keep your secrets." She'd get the full story one of these days. "And you have fun...sitting here, I guess." Oof, too harsh? "Um..."

"I'll save you one." Sable offered.

Weiss looked between the two of them, then stood as well. "There's no need." she said haughtily. "I'll find my own." She vanished into the gloom, with the air of a snow leopard on the prowl.

Well, you could say things were certainly snowballing. Yang had a hundred different questions in her head, about arson and fashion choices and holy crap, was that lavender cologne she smelled? "What made you change your mind, man?" she finally settled on one. "Thought you were going to be alone by choice, and all that."

"I reconsidered." No shit. For a moment, Yang thought he would leave it at that, but Sable continued. "Let's just say when Jaune starts feeling sorry for you, you're doing something wrong."

That must've been a fun conversation. At least Jaune seemed to have come out in one piece. Her fellow blond looked up briefly from his and Ruby's dance, and gave her a thumbs up. Sable tugged on her hands, a rather unsubtle signal that he'd like to lead; she'd humor it for now. Time to put up or shut up. "Next question." Sable set a brisk pace right off the bat. No training wheels. She could respect that. Someone like, say, Ruby, would've fallen over within seconds, but Yang matched him easily, step for step. "Why me?"

Sable scowled. "What, want someone to take your place already?"

"You're not that horrible." Yang rolled her eyes. "I mean, you've gotten better. Or maybe I'm just used to it, but whatever. It takes more than the likes of you to scare Yang Xiao Long, you hear me?" There was a pothole in the floor, which she carefully stepped over. Huh, that definitely hadn't been there when they were setting up. Was this a dance or an obstacle course? "Anyways, you didn't answer the question."

"Who else was there?"

Okay, process of elimination was not the most gratifying response. Although, it was true, half their social group was already taken. As for the others...Team SSSN? Still avoiding them. Blake? Too busy stuffing her face. And his sister didn't count. "Well, there's Pyrrha."

Sable scoffed. "What do I look like, some fanboy?" They had to pull a deft side-step to avoid Nora, who was barreling down the floor with Ren slung over her shoulder. Seconds later, there was a distant crash followed by distant screaming. "Don't give me that look. You asked."

What look? Yang felt totally calm, except for a familiar burning sensation in her eye sockets—oh. She blinked until the feeling of red vanished. "Tch. Didn't expect anything else." It was hardly the worst thing, getting to dance with a partner who was halfway competent, and not halfway bad to look at. "But seriously, dude, learn some tact." Still, that answer had left her a teensy bit salty. "You could at least say, I don't know, something about how we're friends and other shit like that...never mind." She couldn't picture Sable saying something so heartfelt, any more than she could picture the moon in one piece or her mother coming back (wow, that got dark).

"If you don't like it you can—hold on, we're what?" Sable did a double-take, and only turned aside from a flare just in time.

"Um, friends? You've heard that word before, right? Who are you, Penny?" Yang teased. You'd think he'd never had—ooh, that might really be true. How many people in Atlas could possibly be hardcore enough to put up with that personality? "I mean, you're a pain in the ass sometimes...a lot of the time...but I think we've had plenty of good moments too." Tearing a Death Stalker to pieces, beating Team CRDL's ass in the woods, 'dropping in' to rain fire and pain on the White Fang, blowing up Junior's door, using Bumblebee as an anti-robot cruise missile—wow, their good moments were all super violent. "So yeah, I'm counting you as a friend. You got a problem with that?" So help her, if he refused to give her even that dignity, she was seriously going to punch him.

She needn't have worried. "Nope." Sable actually smiled, and not one of his 'I will enjoy burning this thing to a crisp' smiles either. For a moment, he could've been mistaken for a well-adjusted human being. "I—I have no objections."

"Aww. That's, like, the nicest thing you've ever said." Yang laughed. "Okay, enough sappy stuff. Come on, pick up the pace, man! This is some tutorial-level shit!"

"I was holding back for your sake!" Sable snapped back. His smile widened into a slightly predatory grin. "Well, you asked for it!" What happened next could only be described as 'dancing intensifies'. The world blurred as Yang and Sable pulled each other around the floor, dodging flames, bodies, and flaming bodies on the way. Hell yeah. Now this was a party!

Ozpin watched with mild interest as Glynda extinguished yet another flaming student. It was a redheaded girl this time—Octavia Ember from Vacuo, ironically enough. "Ozpin!" Glynda returned to the unofficial staff corner of the ballroom, looking quite put-upon. Octavia coughed and hacked on the floor, soaking wet, while her three teammates pointed and laughed (how very Vacuo of them). "Why did you ever approve this setup?"

"It's shaping up to be a memorable evening, isn't it?" He dodged the question and took a swig of coffee. He'd been to most of the Vytal dances, in various bodies, and truth be told, they all blurred together in his mind. This one, though, was probably the most unorthodox since the 6th Festival, when the headmistress of Shade had unleashed a surprise horde of Death Stalkers at the stroke of midnight. In hindsight, Emmeline Gayl might've been a bit too unhinged to safeguard the Relic of Destruction; Ozpin missed her sometimes.

"A fascinating philosophical sentiment, I think! Quite profound from a first year team!" Bartholomew Oobleck posited, in his typical motor-mouth fashion. "For Remnant is dark and full of terrors, but we Huntsmen are the fire that pushes back the night! And fire provides light and warmth, but also burns, just as our powers may be used for good or ill—"

Glynda shook her head at the green-haired Huntsman. "I doubt it, Doctor. I suspect those two are just pyromaniacs." She gestured at a certain hot-blooded pair. From a distance, it looked as if a younger Jacques was dancing with a blonde Raven. It was unfair to judge children by their parents, of course, but that...that was a disturbing mental image.

"Ha! I like their spirit!" Peter Port laughed, belly jiggling. "A true Huntsman must be ever vigilant! Why, it takes me back to my Academy years! Back in my day, teachers would throw fire Dust at you in the hall to keep you on your toes!"

"I don't think that's true." James Ironwood said bluntly. He rubbed the plate in his forehead. "There is something oddly compelling about this, though. Like a Bullhead crash."

"Hmm." Ozpin's eyes found a petite girl and an exhausted-looking monkey faunus. Young Miss Polendina was tearing up the dance floor—quite literally, for her footwork left scars and gouges in her wake. Oh well, it was nothing Glynda couldn't fix. "Speaking of compelling, James, your pupil's quite a...vigorous dancer, is she not?" he remarked. "The security detail seems rather superfluous."

"Ah, yes." James looked down, smoothing out some nonexistent wrinkles in his uniform. "Her, ah, father insisted on it."

"Would that be Pietro Polendina?" Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize Pietro had any children. Or that you let concerned parents order your soldiers around, genius scientist or not."

"She's adopted..." James muttered. Ah, what fun it was making the general squirm. Seeing a man with no sense of subtlety trying to hide things from him was too precious. Those two bodyguards were practically a flashing neon sign proclaiming there was something special about little Penny. As for precisely what that was, well, James could keep his secrets. He was, after all, an inner circle member in good standing; Ozpin was sure he wouldn't withhold anything that could cause the devastation of Vale and ultimate triumph of Salem.

A loud retching noise off to the side interrupted his fun. "Gods, what now?" Glynda groaned. A pink-haired boy emptied his guts onto the floor, while a dark-skinned girl with pale blonde hair shouted at him. Team ABRN of Haven, if he remembered right, some of Leo's prize students. If that was the case, he was mildly concerned for Mistral's future.

"...Reese bet me 50 Lien. BLECH!" the boy gurgled. One of his teammates, a dark-haired boy, rubbed his back. "Eugh...ech. Thanks Bolin."

"Gods damn it, Nadir! Why the fuck would you listen to Reese?" The girl threw up her hands. "East Sanus hellebores are toxic! Didn't you pay attention in Plant Studies—of course you didn't." She turned on a green-haired girl, who was doubled over laughing. "And Reese, stop bullying Nadir for being a dumbass. Or I swear to gods I'll take that hoverboard and shove it up your—"

"You let them use poisonous flowers?" Glynda looked ready to vomit herself. She flicked her riding crop, summoning a trash can. It was probably a good thing that Ozpin had rejected Team SJBY's initial proposal, which had involved deadly nightshade. A clever wordplay on Blake's name, he had to admit, but it'd be a bad look for the dance to rack up more casualties than initiation. "Mr. Shiko, how many did you eat?"

Nadir buried his head in the trash can. "Urgh...I...I lost count. The whole vase?"

"Oh dear." Glynda said in a small voice. "We may need to pump his stomach."

"Serves him right!" Professor Peach shouted. "That'll teach! The lazy bum! To sleep in my class!"

Weiss's confidence in 'finding her own' was starting to fade. It was, she mused, like being launched into the Emerald Forest all over again, except all the acceptable, mediocre, and non-awful partners had been taken. Come on! She couldn't just sit on the sidelines while her brother flung himself around the floor like a savage. It was because of her, after all, that Sable had even the most rudimentary of dance skills; she'd needed someone to practice on, and for all his shortcomings, Sable was usually the only one around. But sadly for Weiss, she seemed to be the odd one out this time, by sheer bad luck. Was this how Pyrrha felt all the time? Poor Pyrrha.

Something red flashed in the corner of her eye. How conveniently timed. That kind of thing seemed to happen around them a lot, didn't it? Maybe Nora had a point—nope, nope, that way lay madness. "Pyrrha!" The champion stopped in her tracks, only a few steps from the door. "I, um...wanted to ask you something." It was at this moment that Weiss realized she had no idea what she was doing. In Atlas, things usually were the other way around. She had plenty of practice receiving (and rejecting) proposals, but little experience asking someone...asking another girl to dance. "Okay, it might be a little unorthodox."

"Oh?" Pyrrha's cheeks took on a pinkish hue. "Um, Weiss, this is rather sudden...I do value your friendship, of course, but I, er, didn't think we were quite that close—sorry."

"Not that unorthodox!" Weiss windmilled her arms about. "I just wanted to ask if you'd, um...given any thought as to who'd you like to dance with. I'm sure everyone must be eager to dance with such a strong, well-known individual such as yourself!"

Oh no. What the hell did she just say? Damn it all, her brain had still been stuck on initiation. And 'strong well-known individual', really? No wonder it hadn't worked back then! Still, it was a little hurtful when Pyrrha burst out laughing. "Goodness, Weiss! I didn't know you could be so funny!" she gasped.

"Yes...funny. I can be, when I want to." Weiss was just going to roll with that.

"It really is like initiation, now that you mention it." Pyrrha chuckled. "The danger, people pairing up...me not having a partner..." She very abruptly stopped laughing.

"Well, things are different this time." Weiss assured her. "Because...um, eye contact. The first person you make eye contact with will be your partner? And...chips...our chips landed together?" Oh gods Weiss, just shut up. And after she'd been so critical of Sable and Jaune's efforts too...how embarrassing. She deserved nothing more than to join them in the metaphorical shame corner.

Miraculously, Pyrrha did not run away cringing, and actually smiled. "That sounds grand." Say what? Why on Remnant did this keep working?! Weiss had to admit, girls really were mysterious creatures. Ruby and Yang she could understand, given the sisters' rather lax attitudes, but Pyrrha? Maybe the Mistralian girl was even lonelier she'd thought. Poor Pyrrha.

"Though fair warning, I may be a bit out of practice." Pyrrha added. She giggled more at Weiss's surprised expression. "Come on, I wasn't a champion of dance, you know? I don't understand why people expect me to be good at everything!"

This, thought Blake, was true happiness. The mixed scent of fish from all the oceans of Remnant permeated her nostrils, nay, every pore of her body. Fragrant juice splattered the front of her black dress, but she couldn't care less. She feasted her eyes on a rainbow of flesh, from lily-white cod to bright orange salmon to blood-red tuna; the stack of plates by her side grew ever taller and taller. Her stomach was starting to hurt a bit, but she concentrated her Aura around her gut and pushed it down, along with her eleventh helping of swordfish. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! An all-you-can-eat seafood buffet backed by by their ridiculous dance budget? Like hell she was going to stop. And even better, she had it all to herself. Everyone else was too busy with trivial crap, like holding hands and running around a fiery deathtrap. Bah. Who needs friends? I've got tuna!

"Are you all right, Best Friend?" A girl's voice was drawing closer. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be so forceful! I thought your body could handle it!"

"Are you kidding me, Penny? That was awesome!" Sun's voice wheezed. "I didn't know you had moves like that!" Blake looked up. Yep, there was that weird Atlas girl with the lasers, who probably knew she was a faunus. Sun leaned heavily on his small companion, legs trembling slightly. Penny seemed to barely notice the weight. "A break sounds great, though. I can't really feel my feet."

"I may have done some studying." Penny said cheerfully. "I'm a very fast learner, if you know what I mean."

"Heh, right—hey, Blake!" Sun waved with one arm, and Penny half-dragged him towards the seafood bar. "Geez, you really like that stuff, huh?" He wrinkled his nose.

"Indeed." Penny added. "There is a high concentration of trimethylamine in the air." She seemed entirely unbothered. A fellow woman of culture, perhaps? The two Atlesian soldiers trailing them stood a good ten feet back, and seemed to be breathing as little as possible...Atlesian soliders? Eh, so long as they weren't here to arrest her, Blake didn't really care. "You seem to be consuming a vast quantity of fish, Human Friend Blake. Is it truly so delectable?" Penny picked up a choice cut of bluefin and stared at it curiously.

"Do you even have to ask?" Blake said indignantly.

"Strictly speaking, no, but I thought it might be best to." Penny sounded confused. "I have never had this before, and considering your observed habits, I thought you would be a reliable judge."

The poor girl had never had fish? Blake's conscience warred with her desire for more tuna; conscience narrowly won out. "Oh, Penny." she said gently. "This...is the food of the gods. That piece you're holding, it's actually one of the best parts."

"Wait, can you even...?" Sun didn't finish his question. Penny excitedly popped the morsel into her mouth. She stood there for a few seconds, green eyes blinking rapidly, then spat it back out into her hand. "What the hell?! That's sacrilege!" Blake shouted. "Do you know how much that stuff costs?!"

Sun sweatdropped. "I'm sure it was nothing personal, Blake. Penny's, um...on a diet. Very strict, you see."

"That is *hic* true. I am *hic* attempting to reduce my mass, like many other girls my age." Penny nodded. "I mean no insult to your food, Blake. It tastes very...distinctive. I suppose the gods must have rather different palates to us *hic* humans." She stuck her tongue out and attempted to scrape it clean with her fingers. Blake looked regretfully at the unwanted piece. For having been in someone else's mouth, it still looked pretty clean. Screw it, a little indirect kiss never hurt anyone. Before she could lose her nerve, Blake snatched the fish out of Penny's hand and swallowed it. Still delicious. Sun sputtered and turned red in the face. He could think what he liked. True connoisseurs knew you never wasted bluefin, not at 30 Lien a pound.

"Um...try this, Penny?" Sun said. "You might like it better." From some mysterious location, he produced a banana. "Here." He held out the peeled fruit. Penny extended her tongue and slowly licked it. Sun turned even redder, and Blake felt her own cheeks darken. "Wh—can you not do it like that?" Sun stammered, shifting himself to shield the girl from general view. "You—you were supposed to break off a piece!"

Blake couldn't watch any more. She focused intently on her halibut, but couldn't quite block out the questionable noises. "What's wrong with how I'm doing it?" Penny asked between slurps.

"It—it's hard to explain." Sun whimpered. "Um, are you done?"

"Hmm...yes! Scrumptious!" Penny declared, with rather more enthusiasm than she'd had for the fish. "I look forward to tasting your bananas again."

"Can you not say it like that?!"

"Oh, that's hot." Neptune muttered, half reverent and half jealous. "That lucky blond bastard! How come he gets the kinky adorable laser waifu, damn it?"

Scarlet rolled his eyes. "Quantity isn't quality, mate. One day you'll understand."

Neptune pouted. "It's a cold, cold world. Dude gets a chance with a cute girl, and he forgets all about us bros." He sighed deeply. "Man, this night turned out real lame, didn't it?"

"LAME?!" An irate voice shouted. "You ungrateful blueberry!" Neptune hid behind Sage. "I ought to smack some manners into you!" Sable collapsed into a chair, breathing heavily. "...after I rest a bit. Don't go anywhere."

Yang slumped down next to him. "Whew!" She stuck a fist out. "Not bad, man. That was...intense."

"So it was, Yang. So it was." Sable awkwardly shook her fist. "We'll call it a draw."

"Oh, hey." Scarlet shuffled his feet. "Fancy seeing you here." He jabbed a thumb at Neptune. "Don't mind him, he's just bitter because he dances as well as he swims." "Hey!" Neptune protested, over Sage and Yang's laughter.

"Hey, Scarlet. You guys talking to us again?" Yang asked. "Sorry again about what happened with your...manhood."

Scarlet winced. "Well, it's all healed up now." His hand still instinctively twitched towards crotch level. "And Sun's been a good boy lately, so might as well let bygones be bygones. Water under the bridge, you know?" Yang laughed again, while Neptune shivered.

Cinder looked around the ballroom with mild interest. Wow, was that a lot of fire. She'd expected the typical snobbish high society affair, but this? This looked like something she might unironically enjoy. She almost regretted having to miss most of it to take care of things at the CCT tower. At least Arthur Watts's little party trick had worked as promised. Though she really wondered what he'd been thinking, making every single screen flash the image of a black queen. If anyone with proper context had seen that, they might as well put up a flashing neon sign saying 'SALEM HACKED YOU'. Stupid mad scientists and their theatrics.

She spotted Emerald waving. Her two underlings sat at a table, a large tray of chips and condiments in front of them. "How's your night going?" Mercury said casually. "All quiet on our end. Well, sort of." There was the distant fwoosh of flames and the familiar wail of someone getting set alight; Cinder smirked. Ah, that brought back memories! "Yeah, that happens every now and then. Plus someone might've been poisoned. Oh, and Nikos almost left, but the Schnee girl pulled her back in." Hmm. That could've made things a bit interesting. The thought of fighting the Invincible Girl on a tower was oddly thrilling. Probably too thrilling at this stage. "You want some nachos, Cinder? They're pretty good."

Why not? All that stealth had made her hungry. Cinder shoveled a generous helping onto a plate, making sure her chips were well-loaded with hot peppers. "Quite flawlessly, thank you for asking." Turned out it was perfectly possible to pull an operation without annoying little red girls interfering, and Roman just flat-out sucked. Crunch. Mmm, that hit the spot. The burn from the spice went nicely with the burn from the ancient magic powers she'd ripped out of some woman's soul with the help of a demonic beetle...when she put it like that, her life sounded ridiculous.

"Wow." said Mercury. "You, uh, you really like those, huh?"

"Mmf." Cinder tried to answer, but found her mouth full. Suddenly self-conscious, she hastily wiped the melted cheese and sour cream off her chin. "So what? It's been a long day." she said sharply. "And I refuse to starve."

Oh dear. Remember when I said this wouldn't be a very ship-heavy fic?...well, it's still not going to be, the dance just has a way to bringing those threads to the foreground. *looks at the length of the last chapter, then this one* In hindsight, should've paced things better, but too many ideas. Too many people to keep track of! And no one even got together-together in the end! To be fair, I see the dance as more of a potential beginning than a resolution...for some of them, anyways. For others, a dance is just a dance.

Poor Blake, though. At least you've still got Ilia. And Adam. Oh wait...

I have no idea if this is any good, but it sure was interesting to write. If you liked it, great; if not, well, feel free to leave a review saying I suck and should kill myself. The nautical plot will fade into the background next time, when our protagonists get railroaded to Mountain Glenn. Or maybe I've got enough creativity to think up a different mission for them?

(lol no I don't)