Yang opens her door and blinks, looking down at the woman standing outside. "Huh. It really is you." She muses, not quite hiding the undertone of surprise.
Weiss Schnee tilts her head back to meet her eyes, the corner of her lips curling in amusement. "Were you expecting someone else?" She asks, almost taunting, and they're only two seconds in and Yang already knows she's going to have to get used to that tone.
But there's worse things than a little superiority complex in a girl, so Yang lets it go and just shrugs. "Kinda. Figured you were going to be some fifty-year-old fat guy with no hair and sweat stains under his armpits."
Her nose curls in a look of delicate disgust. "What a lovely visual. I'm truly flattered, Miss Xiao-Long." Tilting her head, she pointedly looks past her into her apartment. "But now that I've proven that I'm not, are you going to invite me in, or are you going to pull up some chairs."
Yang realizes she's still standing in the doorway and steps back. Leaving the door open for her, she turns and walks further inside, tossing an apology over her shoulder. "My bad. Come on in. I have, uh. Water." There is other stuff in the fridge, but somehow she doubts Weiss Schnee is going to be interested in ten-lien beer.
There's a quiet laugh from behind her, and she turns to see the smaller woman still standing in the hall, watching her with twitching lips. "Not even going to hold the door for me, you brute?" She asks. She doesn't seem insulted, though. If anything, there's a tinge of delight to her tone. Stepping in, she pulls it shut behind her with a single manicured finger, smiling up at her like she has just told a joke, and Yang can only look at her in confusion.
"Sorry?" She says, the word coming out as a question. Weiss Schnee just shakes her head. "Oh no, don't apologize. I never expected you to be civilized, Miss Xiao-Long." She breathes out another airy little laugh, and her smile grows, lips curving secretively. "The opposite, in fact."
Annoyance flickers in her chest, and Yang turns away before it can appear on her face. 'Civilized' . Like she's some kind of animal, just because she doesn't bow and scrape at her feet from the moment she'd laid eyes on her.
Taking a deep breath, she blows it out slowly, consciously relaxing, because there's no point in screwing this up before it even starts. Walking to the fridge, she opens it and pulls out a bottle of water, pouring it into two glasses she takes from the cabinet. She'd stopped drinking the tap water after she'd seen flakes floating in it.
Turning back, she has to pause for a moment, hit by a sudden sense of vertigo. Weiss Schnee stands in the center of her room, yet somehow still set carefully apart from the rest of it, as if she's a projection on a screen or a picture added in post, not really there. She's so painfully out of place with her designer clothes and snow-white skin in Yang's rundown apartment, a single pool of crystal-clear water in the midst of a puddle of mud.
She's facing slightly away, gaze wandering around the little one room flat, examining the flaking walls and faded furniture, taking it in. Bending down, she pokes at the top of the TV, brushing a thumb along the edge before she lifts it to her face, rubbing her fingers together as if inspecting them. She hums. "You keep it clean. It's nice to know you aren't a pig."
That… isn't what she'd been expecting her to comment on. Yang's eyebrow rises and she doesn't bother trying to stop it, letting her bewilderment show. "Thanks?" Holding out one of the glasses, she waits for her to take it before gesturing towards the couch.
She doesn't actually have a seating area or dining room, just a coffee table and a folded-up futon in front of the TV. She's painfully aware of how pathetic it must look to someone like Weiss Schnee, but thankfully she doesn't comment, accepting the invitation gracefully, seating herself sideways with one leg curled up under her, leaning back against the arm of the couch. She perches lightly, the cushions hardly flexing under her weight, and Yang almost expects to see dirt and dust fall away, for worn threads to brighten and pull back together, improved by her mere presence. They don't, of course, but that only makes the difference more stark, the woman seeming to glow white against the dusty background. Yang sits opposite, mirroring her position, turning so that they're facing each other.
There's a beat of silence once they settle, immediately becoming awkward. Yang waits for her to say something, but the woman seems content to simply swirl her water around, watching her over the top, lips quirked in that same little smile that's been stuck to her face since the start, and her patience rapidly disappears.
"So." Yang says, dropping the words down deliberately. "I'm Yang."
Blue eyes curl up at the corners, her smile growing more amused. "A pleasure." She purrs. "I'm Weiss Schnee." She leans forwards, resting her elbow on her knee, never breaking her gaze. The motion is lazy, languid, more like she's draping herself across her leg than leaning on it. "I hope you know that I'm being genuine when I say it's very nice to meet you."
"Yeah, I got that when you started giving me the fuck-me eyes from the second the door opened." Yang fires back before she can think better of it. But the woman just falls back, chin tipping up as her throat works around a tinkling laugh.
"Am I that obvious?" She asks. She stays laying back against the cushions, looking back down at her again, and nope, that look in her eyes hasn't faded at all. "But then, I suppose it's a look you're used to seeing from women, no?"
"Not as much as you're probably thinking." Yang replies. Modestly, in her opinion. She happens to know she'd been the gay awakening for at least two girls, but it's hard to bring that up without sounding like she's bragging too obviously.
"So women aren't swooning on street corners as you pass by?" She muses. She tilts her head, and her hair slips to the side, falling across her neck and behind her shoulders. Her eyes haven't left Yang yet, and it's slightly unnerving the way they watch her with such casual intensity. "A shame. I would have liked to see that."
Yang shrugs her shoulder, forcing her tone to stay casual. "It's happened a couple times, I guess, but yeah, not very often. Sorry to disappoint you, ma'am." She fumbles a little at the end, the word feeling awkward on her tongue. She hasn't called anyone ma'am in years, and she's not looking forward to getting used to it.
But it's barely left her lips before she's cut off. "Weiss." The woman corrects instantly, and for the first time her smile drops, her mouth twisting off to the side. "Call me Weiss. Everyone else always calls me ma'am. I don't want to hear it from you." She sips from her glass, still grimacing, like she's trying to wash the taste of the word away. "I'm not planning to continue calling you 'Miss Xiao-Long' this entire time either, if that's what you thought."
"No, it's fine." Yang hurries to assure her. "I always hated being called that anyways." Something like relief unfurls in her chest and she relaxes, tension she hadn't noticed sliding from her shoulders. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, if the woman isn't quite so stuck up as she seemed. "So, you're serious about this?"
Weiss blinks, and then her smile is back. "Of course. I didn't come all this way just to taunt you, Yang."
'Could have fooled me.' She almost says. But common sense wins out in the end, and she keeps it to herself. "I'm just surprised." She says instead. "I'd only made the account, like, an hour before I got your message. And when I saw your name, I was sure it was fake."
"Well, I couldn't let someone else snatch you up before me." She sounds just a little too satisfied as she says it. Like she's won a prize. "The moment I saw your advert I didn't hesitate."
"When you saw…" Yang's eyebrows furrow, and she sets her glass aside, looking at her more intently. "Were you watching me?"
Weiss huffs, flicking a finger dismissively. "You make it sound so hostile. I was following you. As in, on social media. It's a thing people do to someone they're interested in, Yang. I'm sure you've heard of it."
That doesn't exactly clear anything up. She eases back against the cushions again, watching her with confusion rather than alarm now. "Why would you be interested in me?" She's barely even posted anything in months. And she hasn't exactly been making headlines lately.
"Oh, I've been following you for years. I've watched every one of your fights." She taps a finger against her glass, eyes dark as they run over her. They pause on her right arm, lingering, and Yang has to hold herself back from crossing them. "I still do, sometimes. I was... very upset, when I heard what happened to you."
Yang's arm twitches, and her jaw tightens. 'Very upset'. Yang had lost an arm while she'd lost her eye-candy, and she acts like that's the same thing. She lifts her glass to her mouth, waiting until she has her face under control before lowering it again. "Well, it's always nice to meet a fan." She says, managing to keep her voice neutral. "Didn't think you'd be interested in the sport, though."
"I wasn't." She answers lightly, utterly unashamed.
Her irritation grows. So, Yang is her new toy, basically. The big shiny muscle car she just can't wait to take for a ride. She takes another drink before she can say something stupid, and ends up draining the rest of the glass. Leaning forwards, she braces her elbow on her knee, looking over. "So." She starts. And then stops when it comes out more forceful than she'd intended. Giving herself a shake, she tries again. "So, what exactly are you angling for here? Is this just supposed to be a one-night stand thing, or...?"
"How long do I plan to stay, you mean?" Schnee finishes, amused. "I'm not certain. I don't have a particular end date in mind, if that's what you're thinking." She rolls one shoulder, waving her glass off to the side aimlessly. "More than a single night, at least. Much more, potentially. It depends on you." She crosses her legs loosely, setting her glass on her lap and lacings her fingers around it. She moves like she's half asleep, utterly relaxed, almost detached in how lazy it looks, and Yang can't help but think there's something off about it. Like she's just acting, playing a part that she doesn't particularly care to keep up, continued more by habit than anything else. It reminds her of the wind-up dolls she'd had as a kid, pulling a cord to make them go through the same motions, again and again. It's soulless, and puts her more on edge the longer she sees it.
She swallows, turning her face away, counting the cracks in the wallpaper. "Well, that's good." She mutters. The situation is already humiliating. She's not sure she could stomach taking those last few steps and literally just whoring herself out for cash to whoever came calling. "Anything else I should know?"
"Nothing unexpected, I don't think. I'm going to ask some things of you, and I expect you not to buck at every request, but I don't plan to take control of your life entirely. You'll still be free to make your own decisions. I want your time and your company, mostly. Nothing egregious."
She'd set her purse down on the floor when she sat down. Bending over, she opens it, pulling out a stack of papers. "I have a contract worked out, if you want to sign it."
'Contract?' Yang straightens up, heart suddenly beating faster. No one had said anything about having to sign something legal.
Weiss notices her alarm and slows, pausing with it half lifted. "You needn't sign it if you don't want." She tells her reassuringly. "It's more for your benefit than mine. I simply thought you might like to have some kind of assurance in writing."
She clicks it a few times on her knee before leaning forwards, turning it around and extending it towards her. "Read over it. It only outlines the basics of our agreement, and what I will be expected to do. It doesn't ask anything of you at all. Nothing deceptive, I promise."
Cautiously, Yang accepts it from her. "I'll look at it." She says, though half of her has already decided to just throw it out. She has absolutely no doubt that the smaller woman can dance legal circles around her, if she really wants to. This whole thing isn't worth risking accidentally signing her soul away to the SDC.
"Take your time." Weiss says easily. "You can sign it today or next week. Or never, if you want. It's up to you."
That's reassuring, at least. Yang relaxes a bit. She continues to eye the stack of papers for a moment before setting them aside, refocusing on her. "Thanks." She says, only a little forced, and Schnee tilts her head in acknowledgement. Straightening up, she clears her throat, slightly awkward. "So, I hate to sound stingy, but how are you planning for this to work? I wasn't lying when I said I needed cash fast."
"Monthly payments. It can be changed to weekly, if you want. The details are written down." Weiss angles a single finger in the general direction of the contract. "If you have any problems, feel free to let me know and I'll see about changing them."
She looks over at her, and for the first time her eyes sharpen, losing their look of airy insouciance. "Though, if you are working somewhere at the moment, I would ask that you quit. I dislike having to compete for your time."
"Eh, that's fine." Yang shrugs, unconcerned. Ordinarily, she'd probably be uncomfortable with being essentially dependent on a woman she barely knows, but that ship had already sailed when she'd quit her job a couple weeks ago. For the fourth time. Being a personal trainer had sounded alright, until she realized half her clients flaked within a couple weeks, and the other half were just there to hit on her. She hates being looked at like she's just a piece of meat.
Which means Schnee is starting to grate on her, a bit, but only a little. Yang had been expecting it, after all, and she's being upfront about it, not trying to hide behind some bullshit. She can respect that, at least. She leans back, kicking her legs out, looking over at the TV and wondering if it would be too rude to turn it on, just for some background noise. "Anything else you wanna know?"
"Do you have a strap-on?"
'Fucking-' Yang's knee hits the table hard enough to make the wood rattle. "What?"
"A strap-on." Weiss repeats easily, eyes curling with amusement. "For sex, Yang."
Her mouth hangs open as she stares, before she shakes her thoughts loose, swallowing. "I- yeah, I've got one."
"Good." She says, pleased. She plucks at the edge of her shirt, and her eyes sweep over her again before looking away, sipping from her glass, still smiling. "It would have been inconvenient if I had to send you to buy one."
Buy one? As in now ? Right now? Yang swallows again, shaking her head.
Normally she prefers a girl with a bit of meat on her bones, and some muscle on top of that, and tall enough to look her in the eyes without craning her neck. Yang's big enough that she's used to looking down, but she doesn't think she's ever been with someone who can't even reach her shoulders.
Now she's thinking about it, though, and her eyes dip before she can stop them, sliding over her consideringly. She really is a tiny thing, Yang thinks. Almost too small. Her fingers would probably touch if she wrapped them around her waist. She could just pick her up, lift her to a better height…
She shakes herself, looking back to find Weiss laying back, watching her with half lidded eyes. The interest in them has been obvious from the start, but now it's darkened, deepened, shifted to something more immediate. Her glass dangles from her fingers, and she sets it aside without blinking, slowly straightening. She leans forward, and Yang is still as she draws in close, head tilting back to look up at her. Lifting a hand, she presses it to her cheek. Her palm is cool against her, skin soft and smooth, uncalloused. "That's quite a look you have." She murmurs softly, her lips barely moving. Her thumb strokes just under her eye, trailing around the edges. "Red suits you, Yang Xiao-Long."
She hadn't realized her eyes had changed. She doesn't blink, heart pounding against her chest, staring down at her. There's an intensity to the way she's looking up at her, blue eyes smoldering with heat, and Yang can't turn away. Anticipation hangs thick in the air, and instinct makes her hold herself still, muscles stiff and tense. Weiss shifts an inch closer, intent like an encroaching snake, and their hips brush on the couch, not an inch separating them.
Yang swallows. Should she say something? Her tongue feels like it's too big for her mouth. She doesn't know anything about the smaller woman. Weiss's eyes move across her face, tracing the line of her jaw, lingering on her lips, and her tongue darts out before she can stop it, wetting them. Weiss looks up, meets her gaze again, and her smile lengthens, becomes teasing. "Oh, you are going to be magnificent." She whispers. Her thumb strokes across her once more, palm curling to cradle her jaw, before lightly patting her cheek. "But. Not tonight."
She pulls away suddenly, turning and standing. She picks up her purse, brushes her hair back over her shoulder, dusting off her legs, and Yang just blinks stupidly up at her, thrown by the sudden shift. "What? That's it? You're leaving?"
Weiss sniffs and straightens her back, looking down her nose at her with mock-condescension. "A lady doesn't simply fall into bed with someone after the first date, brute. She waits until at least the second."
That isn't exactly what she'd meant, but she doesn't correct her. She knows when she's being flirted with. "So when's the second date?"
"Tomorrow." Weiss answers primly, and Yang snorts, lips twitching despite herself. Pushing herself up, she walks forward. Leaning past Weiss, she pulls open the door, stepping aside and sweeping her arm out dramatically.
"I see you can still learn new tricks." Weiss observes, watching her in amusement as she approaches. "I'll message you the details about tomorrow. It's going to be formal." Her lips curl again, heavy eyes raking across her. "Wear something… brutish."
Yang quite literally has know clue what that means. "Sorry, but all my loin cloths are in the wash."
"Then I suppose you'll just have to use your imagination." Weiss quips, utterly unhelpful. "I'm looking forward to the results."
She pauses just inside the door, tilting her head back to look at her. She seems to sense Yang's growing annoyance- or maybe, she just knows exactly how much of an evasive little bitch she's being- because she turns, tone losing some of its luster. "Anticipation is important, Yang. Believe me. No matter how much you want something, if it's simply gained without precedence, it's spoiled. It must be allowed to build before it can be completed."
Her smirk grows, and she reaches up a hand to cup her face, meeting her gaze with dark eyes. "So think of me tonight, and let it build."
Her fingers trail across her cheek as she pulls away, leaving it tingling in the cold air. With one last smile over her shoulder, she sways away down the hall, not looking back again.
It's not until she turns the corner that Yang realizes she's staring after her and finally shakes her head, stepping back. She stays standing at the door for a minute after it closes, looking down at her hand on the knob without seeing it, mind insistent on running over those last few seconds again on repeat.
The little woman definitely isn't her usual type… but fuck if that seems to matter to Weiss Schnee.
Eventually, she blows out a short breath, blinking back to the present and turning away.
Stopping by the fridge before dropping onto the couch, she cracks open a beer and pulls the contract towards her from where it's still laying on the table. She takes a swig from the can, thumbing through the pages, trying to make sense of the legal jargon.
It seems to be exactly what Schnee had said it is, as far as Yang can tell. A promise of a minimum of ten thousand lien a month, and an explicit statement that it is only valid as long as they are both in agreement, and can be canceled immediately by either one of them at any time. Yang is hardly mentioned at all.
It doesn't give Schnee any direct power over her, but that cuts both ways, and the implications are there. There is nothing to make either of them stay any longer than they want to. Nothing to stop her from dumping Yang on her ass the moment she puts a toe out of line.
She flicks through it again, letting her eyes wander over it, wondering if she should hire a lawyer. Schnee had told her she doesn't need to sign it if she doesn't want to, but who knows if that is true or not. She hadn't said anything, but even Yang can see who is going to be wearing the pants in this relationship.
She tries to remember what she has heard about the ex-heiress. She has some pro-faunus sympathies, supposedly, though she's not sure if that's true or just more PR bullshit. She'd been disowned by her father after some fight or another, and the blowout had been big enough to shake Atlas for weeks. And... that's about it, she realizes. She pulls a blank when she tries to think of anything else. She likes white? Yang grimaces and drains the last of her beer. Maybe she should google her or something.
Her eyes linger on the number again. Ten thousand a month. One-twenty a year. That's more than enough to keep up with her bills. More than she'll find anywhere else, she already knows. It would still take years to pay them off entirely, but maybe she can put some money away. Make a savings account or something. Give herself a bit of padding if this whole thing goes sour.
Still, her pride rankles at the idea. Signing up to be some rich girl's toy for cash. Not exactly the career she'd pictured herself in. Schnee hadn't been the slightest bit subtle about what she wants from her, and while Yang wouldn't normally be against it, the whole situation just puts a sour taste in her mouth.
She hadn't seemed too bad, Yang reasons, especially at the end there. She'd had a sense of humor, at least. She'd seemed awfully shallow and pretentious, too, but Yang thinks she can ignore that. Everyone knows the SDC is corrupt as fuck, but as far as she knows Weiss hadn't been connected to it in almost a year. And anyone who managed to piss Jacques Schnee off as thoroughly as she had earns some points in her book.
Tossing the papers back to the table, she stands and heads for the shower, dumping her can in the trash on the way. She'll sleep on it, she decides. She can decide tomorrow whether she wants to sign it or not.
Liar. Her mind whispers, and she squashes the voice viciously, shoving it to the back of her mind. She is going to think it over. She's not going to let some rich girl just wave a bit of money in her face and have her eating from her palm.
The shower hisses as it comes on. Hot water hits her skin and she sighs, tension easing out of her shoulders. Settling down onto the floor, she leans back against the wall and tips her face up, just letting it fall over her. The hot water won't last forever, but she has a few minutes before she has to worry about it. And she's taken plenty of cold showers before.
As always, her arm twinges under the water, the seam between flesh and metal seeming to burn. Opening her eyes, she lowers her head, looking down at it where it rests in her lap. Too heavy by half for a real arm. Two years, but the sight still catches her off-guard, sometimes. Spray lands all along the length of it, and she can feel the buzz as the receptors struggle with the amount of input, making the limb feel like it's submerged in static.
Blinking slowly at it, she flexes her hand, and is almost surprised when metal fingers twitch, obeying the command. Rolling her wrist, she lifts it up to her face. Spreading her fingers wide, she watches the joints bend as she opens and closes it, metal plates sliding across each other. They tighten gradually, until metal creaks and rotors whine from the strain, and sharp spikes of pain stab into her shoulder warningly.
She relaxes her hand, letting it fall open, and the disconnect is gone, the arm feeling like hers again.
Letting it drop back to her lap, she presses her head to the wall again, closing her eyes as the water hits her face. One-twenty a year, huh? Her lips twist upwards, and she's not sure if it's a smile or a grimace.
She'll sleep on it.