Willow watched her husband of 25 years shake hands with General Ironwood. Her daughter, freshly minted into in the Special Operatives, was at her boss's elbow. The proud mother took a heavy swig of her drink, not missing Winter's eyes narrow at her.

The general, not seeing the exchange, "Jacque, I will say I am grateful. If you didn't tip me off that Torchwick was making a run at our stockpile of Dust. I'll be making some emergency purchases now."

Winter, cautiously appraising, "You could have made a neat profit, Father."

Jacque pressed his hand oh so theatrically at his chest, "I would like to say, I'm a good citizen. But my daughter would be vulnerable as a member of your military. I've plenty of money and Dust, but only one Winter." affectionately patting her shoulder.

James visibly softened, and her daughter, foolish enough to still trust her father, blushed lightly. Willow snuffed down the urge to scoff by swallowing her drink. Then, fingering her empty glass, "Too bad he escaped so quickly from prison."

Winter, "At we got a mug shot."

James's fists balled tightly, "I'm willing to bet he purposely got arrested for a decent picture."

Willow sighed, "It was a handsome photo."

Jacque chuckled, "Anything I got to worry about, my dear?"

Willow restrained a shudder from her husband snaking his arm around her waist. Dutifully she turned up her face to him, allowing his mustache to scrape her cheek. "Sure, he's a bit roguish looking, but he's what young enough to be my son?"

James coughed, "Provided a very young teen pregnancy."

Willow playfully rolled her eyes, "You're a doll. Will you two be staying for lunch?"

Of course not. The general was understandably busy, and their eldest understandably didn't need to give them more opportunities to hurt her.

Willow didn't need any of that. She needed….

Alone with her husband, "Well Willow, shall we have lunch?"

She had no idea how he could always sound so dry with her. Then, grabbing a bottle from his office bar she walked out of his office.

XXX

It'd be so easy to let Klein take care of dress shopping with Weiss. Willow squeezing her eyes shut. He was there. Of course, he was. In case she chose to leave her daughter behind and find a bar...again. Weiss was a budding little flower; she had a talent for song, much like her older sister was an accomplished pianist. She raised both her daughters to wield a sword far more competently than any musical instrument.

"Mother, how about this one?" Weiss stretched her arms out and spun. Giggling as the red skirts puffed out with the momentum. Willow tried to smile, "While cute, a 15-year-old girl does not wear tulle."

Deflating, "But it's a combat skirt."

Raising a brow, "You're still a lady." Then, pulling how a strapless white dress that faded to blue at the hem. "This with a modesty panel would be sufficient."

Weiss, "But I like red."

Crossing her arms, "I'll have a jacket made for you with red lining. Warm colors should be on the inside for those of us will fair skin."

Klein, "Red should be on the inside for all of us."

Willow and Weiss snickered.

Short after paying, Willow waved her daughter and Klein off. They drove off back home or to the brunch she had promised her daughter. Slipping into a nice hotel bar, one with decadent art hanging from the ceiling. If she wasn't so concentrated on the only important thing in the room, she might have been in awe.

"Belvedere neat."

The bartender nodded professional enough to school his face into a mask.

"Now that is a drink to get shit faced to."

Leaning his elbow against the bar, she noticed a clip that kept his bright orange hair pinned out of his green eyes. "Jura if you would, Sir. A single ice cube, as I'm not as much of a man as she is."

Willow deadpanned, "I'm not paying for you."

He leaned over her eyes, boldly wandering over her, "Well, I am a gentleman."

She turned to the bartender, "He pays for his. I pay for mine. Understood?"

Largely she ignored him. He prattled and told jokes. Some were incredibly funny, not that she batted a lash. She also perceived he drank one drink to her three. Not that it mattered, she hoped she would drink enough not to wake up ever again. She stood, having had enough to wavered pleasantly. He smelled of fine cigars and scotch, while his arm wound about her waist. She was surprised to note, she didn't want to throw up and leaned into his warmth. She refused to react to his sexy chuckle visibly. The ginger was tempting. It wasn't like Jacque had a care for their marriage bed.

"So Willow, my room or yours."

Her hand went up to his cheek his features were blunt and without makeup...like that mug shot. Following his hungry smirk and her mouth parted, "Roman Torchwick?" He blinked and then blinked again. His grip around her waist loosed. Her arms draped over his shoulders, "Now I could scream." her grip tight.

Hissing into her ear, "I could disappear before a hunter gets here."

Letting loose a gentle laugh, "Have you honestly not done your research on me?"

He continued to blink slowly with those cat green eyes.

"Of course not. I may be a drunk, but I'm still a huntress." Purposely running her fingertips over his cheeks so he could feel her callouses. She may not be able to hold her own for long, but she could detain him.

"So, what do you want?"

"Well, to answer your question. My room."

He snorted briefly.

Oh he was in for one hell of a night.

XXX

Willow rolled off of him panting and relished how he buried his face into her hair. Broad hand splayed across her stomach, pulling her tight against him. They were messy and sticky and done. Still, he was eager to have as much of his body pressed against her.

"We really should drink some water before passing out."

Roman Torchwick was snoring lightly into her hair. She laughed and wiggled free, opening a water bottle and draining it. She took another bottle and poked him with it, snickering as he groaned before swatting it away. "Let us hope a young man such as yourself won't feel too hungover." She crawled back into bed, wrapping her arms around him.

She woke up, and he was still asleep. She was made a quick phone call before stepping into the shower and savoring how her body felt. He didn't have to say she was beautiful, it was plain in the way he looked up at her. Then, toweling off and wrapping herself in a fluffy robe, she watched him sleep. Scars littered his body, not from battling Grimm, but from knives or guns. Then there was a knock at the door his green eyes flew open.

"Calm down, its only room service." She carried the tray in, "You strike me as a large dinner sort of man. So I assume a small breakfast is best."

He nodded warily, pouring himself a coffee, "So last night didn't go according to plan."

Steeping her tea and taking a small bite of quiche. "Oh you didn't expect me to make you cum twice?"

He went pale, "Oh fuck. I didn't think to use condoms."

She watched his panic as he calculated where the nearest pharmacy was. "Roman, there is no need for the pill."

He went adorably red, "Um sorry, right menopause."

"I'm not that old! I had my tubes tied after Whitley was born." giving an amused shake to her head, "So what was the plan?"

Scratching his cheek, "Bed, you take your jewelry."

"A petty 'fuck you' to my husband. For not honoring your agreement, between gentlemen."

He blanched.

Willow sipped her tea, "Honestly, you men always underestimate the alcoholic. Who do you think told Jacque that if he stole his own Dust he could sell it again? Goodness, I even suggested you because of your reputation of honoring your contracts."

Through gritted teeth, "You tell Jacque, to betray me?"

"I said nothing would be gained if he did. Sucking up to the council would be worthless." She waved her hand, "My husband makes his own choices for the SDC. I will not apologize for him."

His hand gripped her hip, "I could make him sorry."

Her nails dug into her palm, "Brothers you're stupid. Perhaps I should be speaking with your multicolored associate. You are merely a thug. At least you're good at the grunt work." She flashed a charming wink. His fingers dug deeper into her flesh. "Careful if you hold me any tighter. I'm going to start having expectations." She started pulling him towards the bed.

Immediately he released her, his hands held up. Willow laid down on the mattress opening her robe, "You could use some education on how business works. I happen to have a PhD in economics, I could make it worth your while." She stretched languidly, trusting Roman's eyes wandered over her heatedly before shooting back his coffee.

Leaning over her, "I'm willing to work hard on my end of the bargain."

"You do realize you're the prostitute in this situation, right?"