Chapter 70
Today was a good day.
Today, things were going her way. It had started early in the morning when she had the most excellent cup of fine imported Mistralian coffee, whose beans had been collected in the far eastern mountains and sent, albeit technically illegally, across the ocean to Atlas. Since she hadn't wanted to mute the taste of something so exclusive, she had taken it black. And boy, was it good, which was a surprise to her, really. The last few cups of black coffee she had drank had been so unbelievably foul, but this time had been a very welcome surprise.
To go with the most excellent coffee, she had decided to do something she hadn't done since she was probably ten or eleven. She had taken a bubble bath. At six thirty in the morning. And it had been wonderful. She had grabbed her record player from her music room, a vintage-original Hunter Music unit she had bought from a collector who had never even taken it out of the box. The damn thing was twenty years older than she was. And it sounded like butter. Taking a bath to Hendrix on vinyl was as close as she thought was humanly possible to actually heaven.
Following this, a flatbed truck carrying the little green RRS coupe she had just bought rolled onto her property and delivered the shiny new car, fresh from the shipping dock at the south end of town. That truck also had delivered the big black diesel Commander pickup she had sent to the tuning shop just two days before. She had called the tow company to see if they could pick up the huge truck and they had originally told her no since it was too heavy and wide a vehicle to get. But she guessed their driver was just feeling it today, and managed to put both a priceless racecar and a hundred-thousand lien luxury pickup truck on the back of his flatbed. And both arrived much sooner than she had expected.
It had been a while since she had done her own laundry, even, but she had gone for it this morning, choosing to wash a set of very expensive silk pyjamas just to wear with breakfast. And getting out of the tub and directly into a set of hot, fresh, literally silky smooth jammies, oof. Weiss wasn't sure if life got any better.
So today, nothing could get her down. And now she was on her way to work. She had called a friend to help her kickstart her problem-solving ultimate solution. He'd be by later, after lunch though. But before that she had a meeting to go to with a foreign dignitary. He was a good friend, however, and it wouldn't be a meeting, really. They were going to have a discussion. Involving chess. Okay, they were going to play chess.
She smiled. It would be a fun day. And to top it off, she was now in a very good position in traffic on her way to work. She was up in her truck, the aforementioned black diesel Commander, her aviators on, her hand resting lazily on the end of the meter-long gearshift, and her elbow hanging out the window. She had been sitting at the front of the line of cars at a stop light, and lo and behold, her brother had rolled up next to her in his own truck.
She had been egging him on to race her since she had first bought a car some nine years ago. He never wanted to. But now, he had no choice.
"Ready to lose, Shitley?"
He laughed, having to shout over both of the two trucks' loud and modified motors.
"I don't think I will. I have the weight advantage and traction advantage if you don't cheat."
Weiss scoffed down at the younger man in his little blue truck. It was absolutely dwarfed by the huge black dually.
"What do you mean cheat, do you think I'd stoop so low as to cheat in a race against my own brother?"
"Uh, yeah."
She laughed.
"Well, you'd be right."
She reached down to the floor of her truck as discreetly as she could and pushed the transfer case lever into four-by-four. She was going to take every advantage she could.
"You're still not going to win. I have more power. Seven hundred."
He revved his truck a few times. Weiss could hear the supercharger whine as the huge motor roared. She laughed again, stabbing her own happy pedal a few times. The big diesel six cylinder barked a few times, puffing two big clouds of black sooty smoke out of the twin chrome exhaust pipes that stood up in the bed behind the cab.
"No, you don't have more."
She revved again, the turbocharger whistling loudly. The whole truck seemed to twist on it's suspension.
"We'll see."
She laughed. Yes, yes they would see. She checked the light on the cross street. It had just turned yellow. She grabbed the gear stick again, and pushed it into second gear, revving up the engine slowly, watching the boost gauge that had been added to the dashboard slowly climb. Whitley did the same from down in his truck. The little stepside hot rod lurched forward in anticipation. Weiss eased the clutch up, creeping her own truck forward. The light stayed red. She eyed it with baited breath. She was so ready. She could hear the radio playing quietly from under the noise of the engine. She smiled evily. The Beastie Boys. Sabotage.
The light went green.
She cranked the radio dial. At the very same moment, she hoisted her left foot from the clutch and matted her right. All one thousand one hundred horsepower of twist immediately tried to turn the planet backwards underneath as all six of the truck's tires dug in. The motor screamed as the truck twisted, lifting the front left tire clear off the pavement and carrying it a good thirty feet.
"Yeeeeaaahhh!"
She bang-shifted the truck up into third gear, lurching forward again. She checked her flatscreen-TV sized rearview mirror. Whitley's truck was just barely tailing her, only half a car length behind. Two great plumes of white smoke billowed from the rear of his truck as it struggled for grip on the ill-treated street. Another slam of the long and fairly vague gearshift had her pulling ahead again. The bass from the truck's exorbitantly loud speakers pounded into her skull as she forced the ludicrously powerful truck forward. She was only ahead by a small amount. She slammed up into fifth gear, singing along to the lyrics.
"~Can't stand it, I know you planned it, but I'm gonna set it straight, this Watergate~"
She weaved hard to the right to avoid a delivery van, holding her engine at full throttle. Whitley's truck had managed to pull in line with hers. This, in Weiss's humble opinion, was not okay. She held down the accelerator, watching the boost level rise up to the ridiculous sixty-four pounds of compressed air. She ignored the little light on the dash that claimed over-speed, watching the nose of her brother's truck rise and fall as he changed up as well.
"~I can't stand rocking when I'm in here, 'cause your crystal ball ain't so crystal clear~"
She knew she had a disadvantage when it came to speed. This truck, albeit outstandingly modified, was still designed for towing. It had been built with low-ratio gears and a low redline so that it could pull a staggering thirty thousand pounds, more than was even legal on a regular driver's license. Whitley's truck, however, had been built for drag racing. High-revving supercharged engine, close-ratio transmission, fibreglass replica cab, everything in place to make it destroy everything in short quarter mile sprints. But Weiss had one advantage. Whitley was afraid of going too fast. He didn't even like flying. All she had to do was outlast him.
"~So while you sit back and wonder why I got this fucking thorn in my side~"
The speedometer was already pegged. It didn't actually read any higher. The truck was starting to shake, as the hard compound tires were not made to spin as fast as she was forcing them to. Normally her truck would have been limited to a mere one hundred and sixty kilometres per hour, but with the horsepower modifications she had paid for she had also had the limiter removed. She hit sixth gear. The mountain of torque hurled her forward. She could see that Whitley was being more cautious, the faster they went.
"~Oh my god, it's a mirage, I'm telling all y'all it's sabotage!~"
She cranked the wheel back to the left, and slid the truck into her brother's lane, cutting him off with only inches to spare. She briefly let off the accelerator and mashed it back down, creating two massive black clouds of exhaust, completely covering the blue hot-rod and most of the three lanes of traffic as well. She laughed out loud, speeding off towards the highway on-ramp on the right. She did another quick check of her mirrors. She was long gone.
Another win chocked up for the morning.
"Nice."
/.../
With a loud roar from the exhaust brake, she rumbled to a slow stop in front of her office building and shut the motor off. She took a drink from her expensive caramel-infused iced latte she had bought on the way over at COFFEEHAUS. Her truck had barely fit in the drive-through lane. She kicked the door open and stepped down onto the concrete, grabbing her jacket from the passenger seat and folding it over her arm.
"Might I take that from you, ma'am?"
She turned, aiming a warm smile at the valet manager in his tight-fitting vest and bowtie.
"Why thank you very much. Make sure to leave me some clutch, though."
He smiled, sunlight glinting off his brass cufflinks.
"But of course. Did you leave me any fuel in it to park it, or is this it's final resting place?"
She laughed, handing over the keys.
"There's enough. Besides, you've been doing this job longer than I've been alive, I trust you're a lot more qualified to be nice to it than I am."
"Miss Schnee, please, you flatter me. Enjoy your day at work."
"Of course!"
With that, she turned and crossed the entry way and pushed her way through the two massive glass doors that led into the lobby. She had them replaced after she had smashed them both the other day. Who knew that glass doors of this size would be seven thousand lien each? But, she had paid for it. No self-respecting business had cardboard doors for longer than two hours.
"Right. Onward and upward."
She strode across the marble floor of the lobby, her very expensive and very one-of-a-kind designer ankle boots clacking loudly against the huge multi-coloured gemstone snowflake emblem that stretched across the floor. She flicked her wrists, slinging the jacket around her shoulders and letting it flow down her back, very nearly touching the floor. She popped the long brown coat's wide lapels open a little further so they at least didn't sit flat. She subconsciously adjusted the little glazed snowflake pin on her left lapel so it sat straighter, pulling her sunglasses off and tucking them into the inside pocket of her coat.
"Now, where's my..."
She spotted him from across the lobby. Not that she could have missed, of course. He was a full two foot taller than she was. She strode over to the enormous man, who had squeezed himself into a very respectable black suit and red tie. His face was well shaven, clearly a woman's hand had done this as it was much straighter and neater than she had ever seen him do to himself.
"There you are! Good morning, Lieutenant."
He nervously shifted his stance, holding the grey binder close to his chest. Weiss calmed a fraction, glad it wasn't a red binder kind of day.
"Ma'am."
The huge faunus seemed uneasy today. Maybe it was her overly chipper attitude that was throwing him off. She tried a softer smile, focusing on his eyes and not on the few garish scars that snaked up from below his collar and over his throat.
"Walk with me, why don't we."
She turned to the stairs, noticing his momentary hesitation before her lumbered along.
"So, Lieutenant, give me the bad news first."
He coughed.
"Uh, we've had some problems with two mining operations along the western Mistrali coast. Just small trifles with two splinter cells. Not a huge deal. Nothing your security can't handle, ma'am."
She turned an eye to him, beginning the climb up the building's opulent spiral staircase.
"You paused. What's the real issue?"
He opened the binder and pulled out a page. She took it from him and gave it a quick glance.
"W-well... the main operation in the Hydrangea Plains took a serious hit from a cell yesterday morning."
She paused for a moment, continuing upwards.
"What kind of hit?"
"A large party of Fang members went in with some stolen military equipment and trashed the site. Destroyed most of the mining fleet with incendiary bombs."
She stopped in her tracks, looking up at him.
"Any casualties?"
"No, ma'am."
She sighed with relief.
"Oh, thank goodness."
"But there was a lot of out equipment destroyed and three of the shafts collapsed."
She brushed the issue away, continuing up the steps.
"That's fine, we can work around that. I just don't understand why they bother attacking anymore. What do they want?"
She dropped the empty latte cup into a small chome garbage can on the second floor landing. Her head of security seemed at a loss. Funny, she trusted him to know everything about the White Fang. Based on his... previous work experience.
"I... I'm not sure. My source tells me that they were upset about the... treatment of faunus on the sites."
"Still?"
"Yes, ma'am. I-I wish I could tell you why they think that."
"This has transcended being upsetting. This is just straight-up annoying."
"I understand."
"You used to be Fang, what did you used to think?"
"That's... an unfair comparison, I was Fang when your father ran this business."
She stopped again, nearly tripping him.
"We don't talk about him in this building. Ever."
He winced, his fangs showing.
"My-my apologies, ma'am. When the company was under previous management..."
She nodded. "Better."
"... anyways, during this time, I would... participate in raids. I'm not going to say I wasn't proud of what I did, but I do have my regrets now. Generally, we fought for faunus rights, and the mistreatment of the workers deep in the mines."
The elevator opened up, the glass doors swinging softly. She entered, the large man following and having to duck his head as he entered. With a woosh, the door swung shut, and the elevator started ascending.
"Why would that even be an issue for them anymore. Literally no person, faunus or otherwise works down in the mines. It's all automated down there, and our workers are in comfortable, luxury offices with remote operating stations."
"I believe... I believe it's the principle of it, ma'am."
"Would you still attack us now, knowing the operations are completely safe, and the workers are hired based on experience and competency rather than enslaved?"
Yes, this was a baited question to ask of an employee, of course. But she had no intention of babying the situation. She might have had the funds to replace broken equipment, move facilities as many times as necessary, but the Lieutenant was right. It was the principle of it.
"I suppose I might find pleasure in reckless abandon, yes."
"Mmm, that's what I thought. Can they be dealt with in a safe and polite manner?"
"Of course."
The elevator stopped at the top, the door whooshing open again. Weiss clapped her hands excitedly.
"Excellent! Glad to hear it! Now, where's the good doctor with my field study?"
"Around..."
As they stepped out of the elevator and rounded the corner, a very short and very disgruntled person in a stark white lab coat nearly tripped them both, glare in their eyes and hands behind them. Weiss stopped dead in her tracks, mere inches from running into this newcomer.
"...The corner, evidently. Thank you, Lieutenant. You are dismissed."
"Of course."
He sighed and turned away, retreating down the hall. It was humorous to watch him have to bow his head so he didn't take one of the emergency exit signs off the ceiling. She turned back towards the lab coat, her boots squeaking on the polished tile floor.
"Doctor, good morning."
They continued frowning with a huff, as if to say 'go fuck yourself'. Arshon wasn't the happiest of individuals, but Weiss tried her best to get them to open up. Their brown, almost olive skin was starting to show its age. Arshon was almost fifty, though.
"Schnee."
And still standoffish as ever. Arshon had worked for both her grandfather and her father during their time with her company, and now they worked for her. It wasn't a stretch to think that maybe Arshon wasn't fond of the Schnees.
Arshon was a peculiar individual. Short, curly black hair. Thick, horn-rimmed glasses. A tough, stocky build. Doctor Ai was an ex-military science officer who once worked for the King himself, before being kidnapped by the Fang and held captive for eight years, forced against their will to create- and this was true –weapons of mass destruction. Arshon, to their credit, put this off as long as possible without being killed. Their rescue was bittersweet, being saved by an SDC task force and then employed by her grandfather Nicholas as head of R&D for the then-new mining operation.
This was by no means a blessing. Her grandfather, despite his great legacy and his fair attitude towards his equal-rights workforce, Arshon was still technically White Fang in his eyes. In order to keep what he thought was a potential threat at bay, the good doctor was kept at arm's length, locked deep away in the bowels of what was considered a private laboratory, and made to refine and purify dust and dust crystals, in order to prevent what he thought might be a hostile individual from harming anyone else.
This was probably because of the brand.
A permanent brand of the Fang, seared into their face. The sigil, shaped to match the garish Fang logo, had been pressed into their cheek and eye with a branding iron, usually reserved for cattle and horses, had been marred across the dark skin. Arshon was otherwise unharmed by the Cell, but nonetheless affected. Weiss often wondered what the short person was like in their previous life, but she didn't know if even Arshon themselves remembered. The permanent ire displayed was not without cause, and Weiss knew she could accept that. Abuse does things to a person. Even a soldier.
Weiss winced, thinking of one in particular.
She gave the doctor a welcoming smile, which seemed to put them off more.
"You having a good morning, Doctor?"
She turned towards her office, strutting forward with purpose. Arshon followed along, hands still behind their back.
"I'm not sure that's relevant."
"That bad, huh? Well, I'm certain that not all of your morning was bad."
"Mmm. The coffee in the breakroom sucks, the traffic in the morning sucks, and most of all, this place sucks."
Apparently not.
"Alright, just give me the news."
A binder hit her in the stomach, making her cough. She barely caught it before it, and she, tumbled to the floor. She managed to stay upright, a little perturbed.
"The M3002 vein in site seventeen-six is showing promising signs. The deposit is rich, and sonar indicates close to seventy thousand tonnes of ore."
She opened the binder and gave the first couple of graphs a once-over.
"That's good."
"Site twenty-one-one is getting low, we've dropped below forty percent remaining. We estimate about six months left at the site."
"And have we found a new site?"
"Up north. Site thirty-nine-seven. Sonar and ultrasound show F-class deposits, one of which is nearly fifteen kilometres wide."
Her eyebrows went up.
"That's very good, then. What's the catch?"
"Deposits of D-class minerals clouding the ground. They can be excavated, but not without a significant cost. We'll need enhanced drilling equipment and non-gas based explosives to begin excavation."
"We have the drilling permits?"
"For months, now."
She nodded.
"Consider it done. When can you start?"
Arshon pondered for a moment.
"Four months."
She smiled.
"Go for it. Take five months if you want to."
Arshon's face seemed to wash away the sour attitude for the briefest of moments, before returning to the usual doom and gloom and pacing off. Weiss stopped to watch them go. Arshon's actions, despite being so short, held enough intimidation that a few other employees actually moved aside as they stormed off down the hallway and around the corner. Weiss paused for a moment, contemplating the new information about the sites. She sniffled, and adjusted her hair, catching her reflection in a piece of chrome.
"Weird."
She pushed a strand of hair back into line with the others, looking back down the hall to where Arshon's office was. She pursed her lips and wondered aloud.
"How did you put up with us, Doc?"
With a turn, she made her way down the other hallway towards her own office. Arshon was a confusing individual, but a hard worker. She could never be mad at them, even after being hit in the stomach with a binder full of nonsense that only made sense to Arshon alone. Whatever, she thought.
The building was sparse this morning, with only a few stragglers from the night cleaning duty and the odd early-riser, herself, the Lieutenant and the good doctor not included. The building didn't officially open for another forty-five minutes, so it gave Weiss the opportunity to speak with her heads of staff, and to make coffee in her office. On the off chance that she didn't have any meetings, emails to answer, or surprise visitors, that is.
She ducked into a side room. The storage closet along the edge of the long hallway was well hidden behind a thick wood panel that blended into the wall, lit on the inside by hidden lights. This was her panic room in times of emergency, as the ceiling came down with a chrome handle to expose an escape hatch. But in times of non emergency, it was just a storage closet where she hid stuff she didn't want her employees to know about. Like board games. She rifled through her pile, pulling the thick redwood case from the bottom of the stack. She squatted back, flipping up the silver latches and opening the box.
"Hello, my pretties."
The thirty-two Grimm-ivory pieces gleamed back up at her. Each were individually hand-carved, and the two shades of ivory beautifully contrasted one another. The marble and quartz board was inlaid with gold trim. She hadn't seen this board in a long time. The fact that it still retained its lustre was proof of the workmanship enough. She shut the lid, standing up.
"Huhhh."
Or, she tried. The box may have been magnificently constructed, but it was also magnificently heavy. She had to brace herself on the shelf behind her to stand up. With a kick, she managed to get the door open again, and lumbered back into the hall. She stumbled along the hallway, taking a left past her office and down towards the conference rooms. Sandy wasn't at her desk yet, but her backpack was. Weiss guessed she was probably making herself coffee in the breakroom. At least Arshon would have company.
The conference hall she liked most was also the furthest away from her. Her brow sweat as the sixty-pound case tried to drag her to the floor. She was thankful that she had chosen a pair of sneakers today, and not her heels. She would have certainly broken both her ankles.
"C'mon, weakling. Lets go."
Hey, that's my job.
She smirked. One of the night cleaning crew walked past her and gave her a weird look. She smiled at him and played it off like the box weighed nothing at all. No, it wasn't digging into her hands. No it wasn't uncomfortably pushing her belt into her stomach.
She reached the conference room at the end of the hallway. The little glass screen still indicated that it was both unoccupied and locked. She realized that this was now going to be a problem. Her access card was in her pocket. And her hands were full.
"Shit."
She looked around.
"Oh, Doctor Alvarez, can you come here?"
The tall, skinny woman in a fancy grey suit turned, her attention grabbed. She frowned over at her, but straightened her back and walked over.
"You forget your card, Miss Schnee?"
Weiss shook her head, trying not to groan.
"No, it's in my pocket. Can you let me in?"
The woman's reptilian eyes softened as she smiled.
"Of course! What's in the box, though?"
She leaned over and pulled her own ID card out of her blazer, the little black elastic string coming with it. A loud beep sounded as the door unlocked.
"Chess set. Imported. It's a luxury chess set."
"Oh nice, do you play often?"
Weiss nodded as she entered the room. As soon as it was withing reach, she placed the box down on the table with a thump, very nearly catching her fingers under the edges.
"Eh, usually only when my sister's home. I'm not really that good."
She paused to open the box. Doctor Alvarez gasped as the lid came up to reveal the pieces and board.
"It's just my first meeting today likes chess."
Her associate nodded, standing upright.
"Well, I hope for that for your sake, you win. Have a good day, ma'am."
She smiled as she left, leaving Weiss alone in the room. She turned her attention back to the box.
"Yeah. I hope I do too."
/.../
The stage was set. She sat in the high-backed leather chair, her back to the huge picture window. Her fingers tented in front of her. Her opponent was soon to arrive. She smiled at the door evilly.
"Wait, no."
She sat back in the chair, leaning over instead on one elbow and placing her right hand menacingly before her face. She crossed her legs and draped her left hand over the edge of the chair arm. Was that too intimidating, perhaps? She fidgeted.
"What about this?"
She leaned forward instead, propping her torso up on both elbows and interlocking her fingers.
"Gosh, I wish I had a cat for this."
She scratched her head. A nice, white Persian cat would complete the look she was trying to go for. She stood, spinning the chair back towards the window. Her shoulders shivered. With one hand on the window for support, she pulled off her sneakers and placed them beside her. She exhaled slowly, trying to ease herself.
"Okay... new plan."
She turned, grabbing her sneakers off the floor again and slid herself across the room on her socks, sliding to a stop at the oak panelled wall on the side of the room. She looked back to where she'd come from.
"Well I just wanna do that again."
But not today. She placed her palm against the panel, and it slid easily sideways to reveal a hidden closet where she had hidden a bunch of outfits. Very often did it happen that five minutes before meetings, she would need a change of clothes. She tossed the shoes onto the rack at the back of the closet, grabbing a pair of fine Mistralian leather shoes, the deep brown leather polished to a mirror finish. She smiled.
"Byoutiful."
Her feet slipped in without even a change of socks. She quickly unbuttoned her blazer, pulling it off and tossing it to a hook along the left wall of the closet, giving a glance out the big window. He hadn't arrived yet. This was good for a moment. She reached back inside and pulled out a long navy blue coat and pulled it over her shoulders, letting it hang down like she'd seen in the movies. She caught herself in the mirror in the back of the closet.
Menacing.
She clapped. Perfect. She grabbed her glasses out of the pocket of her other blazer and slid them on. Another check in the mirror.
"Even better."
She stepped back and closed the closet door with a whoosh of pneumatic pressure. She glanced back out the window, down at the road.
"Oh shit!"
The limo had arrived. Huge, black, and chrome-plated, shining in the sunlight. She quickly darted over to the other side of the huge conference room and slammed her hand into a control panel on the wall. The wall itself slowly started whirring upwards and out of the way, revealing a huge stereo system, complete with four floor-to-ceiling speakers and two big subwoofers placed along the bottom. Impatiently, she popped the lid on the system's turntable and pulled a record out of the rack above it. The black vinyl disk slipped easily out, and it just as easily slid onto the spindle. She pulled the needle over the edge of the record, keeping the drop switch in the up position. The record started to spin up to speed.
She quickly adjusted her collar, straitening up and brushing herself off. A few strands from her bangs invaded her eye, and were quickly pushed back up into the quaff.
"Goodness, uh, okay..."
She hadn't fully prepared, but she was ready enough. She spun back around and jumped back over to the big walnut desk. The clasps on the box came up one more, and she ripped open the lid, exposing the expensive board. With some effort, she pulled it up and out of the box and placed it on the wide table , between her chair and the one she had pulled from the closet for her guest. The pieces came out of the thick velvety foam and onto the board.
"Okay... Rook, knight, bishop..."
She idly thought out loud as she lined up each of the ivory pieces, black on her side, and right on her opponent's. As was fair and expected of her when playing against someone of her opponent's status. With the board set up, she shut the lid of the case and stashed it under the table, out of the reach of anyone's feet. Speaking of, she could now hear footsteps coming up the hallway. She had no more than a few moments left to prepare.
"Ahh..."
A few nervous noises came out of her mouth as she dashed over to the side of the room again and grabbed the bucket full of ice that had a bottle of the finest Mistralian champagne chilling for the past hour now. She grabbed two flutes from the drawer, shutting it with her hip and dashing back over to the table, setting it down on the edge of the table. The footsteps stopped just outside the door. She gasped. The lock on the door beeped.
"Ack!"
She jumped at the chair, ending up backwards, facing the window. Her meticulous planning had been far too meticulous, and now she needed to wing it. What of her elegant speech she was gonna use on him? The door swung open. One very heavy and distinct set of foot falls came across the floor, stopping short of the desk. Four more sets followed the first set in. She could hear the unmistakable sound of claws extending and retracting on the hardwood.
Excellent.
It was time to wing it.
"A chessgame, a chessgame, my kingdom..."
She paused, spinning the chair slowly around to face her guests.
"...for a chessgame."
She hit the queuing drop button on the little remote for the sound system. The needle dropped. The first four notes of Beethoven's 5th played loudly as she caught the eyes of her guest.
There he stood. The man-mountain himself. The King of all Menagerie. Well, due to the more archaic monarchical system in place in Menagerie, he was the Chieftain, not the king. She stood from her chair, her shoulders back and her head held high. She extended her hand over the table, palm down towards the floor, her fingers extended for the man to take.
"Your majesty."
He took her hand, putting his other hand behind his back. He bowed low, gently kissing the back of her hand. His facial hair tickled the skin of her hand as she curtseyed just as low. He righted himself, letting go of her hand and adjusting his shoulders.
"Miss Schnee."
With a shrug of his massive shoulders, his purple velveteen coat fell backwards as the clasp came undone. One of his red-suited bodyguards swept up from behind and caught it before the precious fabric touched the floor. It was neatly folded and placed aside on the long conference table that lay at the other end of the room. She discretely turned the volume down on the stereo.
"I trust the ride over was... comfortable?"
He chuckled, his enormous, and now nude chest shaking as he did.
"Yes, yes it was. Thank you for the use of your limo, it was quite serene."
She smiled, sitting back down. She gestured for him to do the same and he did, pulling out his chair and folding his tall, thick body into it. It wasn't actually her limo. It was another requisition from her brother, who probably was only now figuring out that it was missing from the garage.
"Oh please, it was nothing. Nothing more than some simple luxuries for a friend."
"And I greatly appreciate it today, Madame."
She smiled up at him. With a snap of her fingers, one of his guards dashed over to attention next to the table.
"Can I interest you in some champagne? It's a vintage from the year you were born, actually."
He chuckled, his laugh hoarse and gruff. Exactly as she expected a man of both his size and species.
"Really? A sixty-year-old champagne, just for me? You really shouldn't have. I'm not worth that kind of expense."
"Of course you are, sir! Nothing less for the high leader of the greatest vacation destination on the planet!"
He let out a hearty laugh.
"Only you vacation there, Miss Schnee. Because, what was it they call me? Something quite intimidating?"
She put her hand on a cane she procured from under the table, resting it oh so perfectly balanced under her fingers.
"The Animal, was it? I can't remember quite so. Paige-boy?"
The young bodyguard in the red suit stopped pouring the two drinks, a nervous sweat in his brow.
"Um, yes ma'am."
"Precisely. So you can see why Menagerie is not the most popular place to visit."
The two flutes were delivered to each side of the table, on the correct sides of the board for each of them. Weiss noticed that the Paige had put the glass to her left side, which was a nice touch.
"Pish posh, my good man."
She took a sip of her drink and he did the same.
"Isn't a bit early for alcohol, though? To think what the public would think of their Chieftain partaking in such day-drinking."
"What would a Chieftain be without day-drinking, though? I certainly never could get anything done without alcohol. Especially more recently."
"Mmm, yes I heard. I am truly sorry about your friend and classmate. It unfortunately happens to the best of us at the worst of times."
They sat in silence for a moment, reflecting. Weiss spun her cane under her index finger for a moment, before hoisting it up and grabbing it in her hand. With a flick of her wrist, the cane slid into its little holders under the table. Today wasn't a day for reflection.
"Yes, well. Shall we get started?"
Weiss gestured to the tabletop. Her opponent crossed his arms over his burly and furry chest.
"Well, as much as I'd enjoy to play for fun, I'm thinking I remember you offering up a wager for this time last time we played."
Weiss raised her eyebrow.
"Oh? You remembered? Well..."
"Go on. Hit me with your worst."
"How about some fatherly advice, then?"
He paused, confused.
"I-I'm sorry... excuse me?"
"Fatherly advice. Something I'm unfortunately lacking in."
"I- Uh, okay. I suppose. And if I win?"
"Then... my beach house?"
He straightened up, a light coming to his eyes.
"The one on the coast? Ooh, I like that one. Sure. Some fatherly advice for a beach house. That's fair."
He leaned forward, scooting his chair up to the edge of the table. He reached out to move his first piece.
"Now, I do believe I get the first move, my dear."
She gestured to the board. His huge fingers delicately lifted his king's pawn. To E4. Weiss kept her composure. This would be easy.
Black pawn to C5.
"So, tell me. Did you hear about the recent attacks on my mines?"
White pawn to G3.
"I did. I'm sorry to hear that."
Black Pawn to G6.
"Well, what can you do. The Fang is as the Fang does. I'm not too too worried about it."
White King's bishop to G2.
He chuckled, watching her moving her King's bishop to G7.
"Well, you know, when I made the Fang, It was never my intention for it to turn out like it did. We were about peace. Acceptance."
White King's knight to E2.
"Yeah, well, from my experience, nothing ever turns out the way it's intended."
Black Queen's knight to C6.
"Heh. Well, originally the Fang was created as a fun name for my hunting group. Back before I was Chieftain, and before I had met Kali, even. It was just myself and my friends, shooting the proverbial shit as it were."
White Pawn to C3.
"Oh yeah, and that's another thing. I never understood the name. White Fang. In what world was that ever going to be a name used for good purposes? It's basically set up for evil."
Black King's knight to F6.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
White Queen's knight to A3.
"It's called White Fang. Dude, you've got segregation and then teeth. Don't tell me that wasn't on purpose."
Black pawn to D5.
"...Would you believe it was a committee effort?"
White pawn takes black at D5.
"Oh?"
Black knight takes white pawn at D5.
"Yeah, actually. Sienna wanted it to be The Black Death. Now in my opinion, that was the harshest of all our ideas."
White knight to C2.
"As in... the plague? Why would she choose a name like that?"
Black kingside castle.
White pawn to D4.
"Well, she was always the more... aggressive of us hunters. She was also the only woman, so it's safe to assume she was... compensating for a lack of testosterone."
Black pawn takes white at D4.
White pawn takes black at D4.
Black Queen's bishop to G4.
"I don't see why she'd need to compensate. Are you implying that, as a woman, she wasn't manly enough for you?"
He chuckled, baring his own white fangs. White pawn to F3.
"Of course not, I was implying that she personally liked to go overboard. My name choice was to be the Brothers Grimm. We still fought the Grimm, and most of us were actually brothers, so it seemed fitting to me. But, you can't please everybody."
Black Bishop to F5.
"But why White Fang though? Still seems kinda... brutish."
White knight to E3.
"We chose that because it seemed... fitting. We were faunus, most of us having claws, pronounced canines, you know. Traits of large felines. So Fang. White because we came to the agreement that is symbolized innocence. It symbolized peace."
Black Queen to A5.
"Check. And yet..."
White King to F2.
"Yes, yes, I know. I was overthrown, and my group became a terrorist cell. The least they could have done was change the name. Bunch of lousy human-hating bigots."
Weiss paused for a moment to take a drink of her champagne. She could see her opponent pursing his lips at the recent moves, peering at the board through his thin-rimmed purple glasses. She liked how they matched his coat and the velvety accents on the sides of his open-toed boots. Black knight to B4.
"You remember when racism was a thing?"
White knight takes black bishop at F5.
"It still is a thing, Weiss."
Black Queen takes knight at F5.
"No, I don't mean human-faunus racism. I mean the kind between different groups of human or faunus within their own species. Remember that?"
White pawn to G4.
"Oh, I see what you are referring to. Yes, I do remember. There was a time when even I was bullied for what I was. I assume you never had that misfortune?"
Black knight to D3.
"Check. No, I was never so unlucky. I think that kind of inter-species racism died out around the time the Fang was rising to power. When the bad Fang was promoting equality for all faunus by making the human race a common enemy."
White King to G3.
"I believe we know who is responsible for that. On both sides."
Black knight takes pawn at D4.
"Heh... yeah. I'm sorry, I wish I could disown him. But you can't really disown your father, now can you?"
White pawn takes black Queen at F5.
"Blake tried. A few times, running off with our side of the issue. But I couldn't ever get it in her head that she was wrong. So stubborn. She learned the hard way that the answer was through equality for everyone, not just the faunus."
Black knight takes pawn at F5.
"Check. I wish it was easy to tell father that."
White King to G4.
"I'm sure your father had his reasons for doing what he did. Mind you, they were still evil, but no one acts that way out of spite. I know for a fact he doesn't hate the faunus."
Black pawn to H5.
"Yeah, I heard. Some bullshit about mother all but leaving him as a husk of alcohol and depression. He came here the other day and showed me that he still loved me. I didn't believe it. There's no way. Also check."
White king to H3.
"My daughter joined and then dated an actual terrorist. His daughter single-handedly rebuilt a company he had destroyed in his anger after losing his wife. I think he's just as proud as I am."
Weiss tapped her finger on her black knight.
"Yeah... but I can't help but think of it as a bad dream, meant to confuse me."
"I can assure you it wasn't. As much as I hate your father for what he did to my species, he made you, and you helped to save it. So is he really that bad?"
Weiss pondered. Here was the leader of Menagerie himself actually commending her father's actions. He was supposed to be this vile man with no ambitions other than the enslavement of the faunus for financial gain. But he had... sort of proven himself otherwise. And now he was being defended by the most unlikely of people.
"Weiss, he wants you to rebuild yourself out of this hole you've dug. The same way you pulled his company out of the hole. Arguably, what you're doing to yourself is worse in his eyes. He doesn't want you to end up like the company."
"But why?"
"Because he loves you, Weiss. Just like I love my daughter despite, and I'll say this again, actual terrorism. So maybe give him the benefit of the doubt just this once?"
"Okay. If you say so. I'll trust you."
He held his arms wide.
"That's what I'm here for, sweetheart. Oh look, I gave you some fatherly advice, and you didn't even win yet. How about that, huh?"
Weiss smiled.
"You sure about that?"
Black knight to F2.
"Check and mate, Ghira."
He didn't even look down at the board, as if he had seen this coming. Weiss twitched.
"Wh- why are you smiling? I won."
"Did you?"
Weiss stammered.
"Y-yes, I did! You can't move your king anywhere I can't take it out!"
"Forget about the chessgame, sweetheart. Did you win?"
"I-I don't..."
Ghira shrugged his wide and muscular shoulders.
"In time, you'll figure out what I mean. In my opinion, you are at the cusp. You have almost won. You just need that one last drive to push you up and out of your hole."
He stood up from his chair with a grunt and a groan of the wooden chair. Weiss stood as well, flustered. His advice, as it always was, confused her. He was far to cryptic with his responses, and she remembered a few times Blake mentioning exactly this. He never gave a straight answer. She made him disgruntled.
"Well... thank you for the advice, then. I'll certainly do my best, sir."
"Anytime, my dear."
The young red-suited paige boy brought his coat back over and helped him get it on. Ghira chuckled as he did up his chrome clasp. He pulled a pocket watch out of his coat and checked the time. Weiss pulled herself up and out of her chair again, this time slowly.
"Well, I do believe I need to take my leave now. Ambassador's meeting and all."
Weiss extended her hand across the table for him to shake. He did, enveloping her small, ladylike hands in his enormous clawed, muscular ones.
"It was nice having you around once again. A shame you didn't get to beat me."
"Indeed. Perhaps one day."
"Yeah. Perhaps. Auf Wiedersehen, Ghira."
"And to you as well, Weiss. Take heed of my advice."
He turned face, putting his hands behind his back and pacing away, his four red suits pushing swiftly out of the room. Weiss smiled as she watched him leave, waiting patiently until the door gently closed behind them. As soon as he was out of earshot, she collapsed back into her chair with a deep sigh. Her jacket fell off her shoulders and scrunched up under her back on the high-backed chair.
"Why? Why do he gotta be like that?"
She was emotionally drained.
"Plech."
She stuck her tongue out, biting it between her front teeth. She glanced over at the bucket on the edge of the table. She sat up and reached for it, sliding it over to herself and pulling the chilled, condensating bottle of bubbly up and out of it. She popped the cork, and went to pour herself a glass.
"Wait..."
She paused, the bottle outstretched in her arms and held sideways over the glass flute. Did she really want to do this? No, she didn't. She sighed, putting the bottle back down on the surface with a thunk. She stood up again, grabbing her coat and pulling it on, sliding her arms into the sleeves this time.
"Like he said. Up and out of the hole."
She righted herself, looking back down at the chessboard. She chuckled, reaching over and slowly knocking over the white king piece, making a little sound with her mouth as she did.
"I can conquer one thing, I can conquer all things."
She smiled, content.
"Well, guess I better go do my job."
She too turned, and left the conference room. She'd be back later anyway for her shoes. She'd clean up then. She knew she had another meeting today, but not for another few hours. She sighed, her expertly polished shoes clicking softly on the floor. She realized as she moved towards her office that she actually had spent nearly two hours in the conference room, setting up the board and her outfit. This meant that she'd have quite a pile of papers in her In bin at this point. Nearly two hours of it, actually. She rounded the corner, eyeing the desk of her PA. Said PA was there, waiting for her, a fresh coffee sitting on the desk. Weiss smiled.
"Good morning, Sandy."
Sandy seemed panicked. Weiss pulled up alongside the desk.
"I tried to stop him, ma'am."
Him? Weiss cocked her head.
"But... do I have a meeting this early? I thought my next one was at noon."
"That's what I told him, but he wouldn't listen. He just waltzed in and made himself comfortable. I'm sorry, I-"
Weiss cut her off.
"Hold on... Is he beautiful?"
Sandy paused, her mouth hanging open.
"I... think so. But I don't want to seem rude. It's your... ahem business partner."
"Oh, so he is. Excellent! I think I'll let myself in, then!"
She looked utterly perplexed. Weiss let her suffer like this as she pushed open the door of her office and strolled inside. The early morning sunlight blared in from the huge picture window, but she was prepared for it, raising a hand to block it from burning her eyes. At the other end of the long office stood the man she hadn't expected to be here as soon as he was. It was a welcome surprise.
"Well, hello there."
He turned from his serene gazing out the window, breaking into a big smile as she approached.
"Hello, Weiss."
She totted over and embraced the man, who was perfectly okay with returning her welcoming hug.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes today, Lie. You look sharp."
She let go, leaning back and running her fingers under the lapel of his suit jacket. The soft silk felt amazing. He chuckled, letting her examine his outfit.
"This old thing? This is just my flying suit. This is nothing."
Weiss gave him a frumpy smile. How dare he not take a compliment, as usual. Would it kill him to do it just once?
"Besides, you certainly look good today. That looks like another of your fabulous custom suits. I'm loving the jacket as well."
"Renny, honey, you should know by this point that all my suits are custom tailored. Do I need to introduce you to mine?"
He chuckled, leaning against her desk and sticking his hands in his pants pockets.
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you."
"Mmm, you certainly are. Anyway, how was your flight?"
"Miserable, as always. I hate flying. I should have bought the bigger plane, but no, I thought the Sigma was good enough."
Weiss gave him her favourite 'What the hell are you on about' look.
"Ren, your plane is like a three-bedroom apartment with wings. It's better then my plane."
"As I recall, you don't have one."
"My point exactly. Now, you're early for our meeting. Do explain. Because I was not prepared for you this morning."
He shrugged, tapping his foot against the floor.
"I was going to have breakfast when I got off the plane, but I didn't find anything to my liking. I remembered there was a little bistro here in Anfang that served this really great fruit platter. You took me to it last visit."
Weiss blinked.
"You mean Kora's? It's right up the street, Ren. Did you not go?"
"Apparently the owner is on vacation. They're closed until Monday."
Her shoulders fell. She sighed.
"Oh. Oh well. Do you want me to order in something for you?"
"No no, it's alright. I had some food on the plane."
Weiss circled around to her side of her desk, pulling out her chair and spinning herself into it. Ren took this as an invitation to sit down, sliding himself down into one of her expensive chairs on the other side. He crossed his legs, draping his arms over the armrests.
"Okay, enough time wasting. You showed up because I called you, and now we're gonna discuss that."
He leaned back and interlocked his fingers.
"Alright. Begin."
She exhaled, clenching her fist a few times and trying not to let herself become angry.
"I need to do something. Something drastic."
"Do you."
"I do."
"Hmm."
"It needs to happen."
"I understand."
They paused for a minute. Weiss cringed. She knew she needed to get over herself and just come out with it, even if they both knew what she was referring to. She bit her lip, looking away at the wall.
"About Jaune."
"Okay."
He slapped his hands on his legs, standing up again. He paced slowly over to the large picture window.
"What if I told you someone else has similar goals, but can't bring themselves to confront him?"
"Who else would..."
She stopped mid-word. She knew. It all came to her. All at once. Every feeling she ever had, every moment she ever wanted to let linger. Every time she had thought she had loved and been loved. Every morning at school waking up with the girl of her dreams in her bed. It all came back at once.
"...Ruby."
Ren nodded slowly.
"She called me as well. Right around the same time, too."
Weiss's body couldn't decide whether to sink deeper into the chair and sigh or sit up straight and start panicking. She went with a halfway point between the two, sitting back and pushing her shoulders into the thick leather.
"And what did she want?"
"She wants someone to deal with him. Specifically by bringing him in. To jail, that is."
"I can do that."
"No Weiss, you'd try to kill him, given the chance."
Not strictly false.
"Well... I might, yeah."
"The problem with that is that you'd fail. You would die."
She scoffed. How dare he discredit her.
"That's not a nice thing to say to your colleague."
"It's unfortunately the truth. The meek and meagre Jaune you remember from school is not the same anymore. While you were away at university getting a degree, he became a huntsman. A strong one, at that. Stronger than I've ever known. You'd be slaughtered, Weiss."
"So I'll bring bigger guns."
Ren looked back over, binking a few times.
"You've never fought a huntsman before, have you?"
"Ruby and I used to go to the gym together... couple of months back."
"Did you ever win?"
"Few times."
He laughed for a second.
"She let you. You forget this girl is in love with you, right?"
She twitched, looking down at her hands. She had won fair and square a few times. Right? No, that didn't make sense anymore. Ruby's muscular and tough physique yielded immense strength and surprising flexibility. She also just moved faster than she did. Weiss's head fell. She had been fooled. Fooled by love. She stuck out her tongue.
"Oh."
"Yeah. And remember that I work with Ruby on occasion in the field. She's an unstoppable force. It's just that Jaune is an immovable object."
"How can I break this object? Preferably into many pieces."
He spun back around, waltzing back over to the desk while reaching into his jacket's inside pocket. From it, he procured a piece of folded paper.
"You need to train."
"I'm well trained."
A scoff. Weiss frowned up at him.
"You need to become a more immovable object. You need to become the strongest. More than him. More than me. More than Ruby, even. Lucky for you and unlucky for me, he still thinks of me as a friend, so I can keep tabs on him while you train."
She sighed, slouching down. There was no point in arguing any further. Sure, she hadn't trained very much recently. But that was for lack of time. And an excess of alcohol.
"What did you have in mind?"
She was handed the folded piece of paper. She took it, pushing her glasses up her nose so she could see properly as she opened the paper. She rubbed her nose, giving the paper a shake so she could read it. A few names stood out to her on the list.
C. Winchester- Hand to hand Combat
S. Wukong- Balance and Stability
C. Fall- Reaction control
M. Zedong- Weapons Training
Q. Branwen- Focus and Strategy
Sgt. Schnee- Aura management
She tapped the paper with her nails, looking back over at him.
"That's my sister you have written on the bottom of the list, Ren."
He nodded.
"And my mission commander. I said I had an issue with someone, and you'd be helping me. She insisted I have you go meet her. In fact, I wasn't allowed to leave her office until I added her name to the list. That's why hers is written in pencil."
"I see. I guess so, then."
She folded the paper up and placed it on the table. She sighed.
"What'm I gonna do, man?"
He shrugged his shoulders, not making any movements otherwise.
"You train. We plan. We execute said plan. We bring a bad guy to justice."
"Justice? Never liked the stuff."
"Too bad. Can't have you going in with intent to kill. Or have you go in and actually kill him. That would send you to jail, and then what? I tell Ruby that her problem has been dealt with, and now you're in prison? She wouldn't have it, and you know it."
"Can you keep me out of it?"
"No, not if you kill someone. I've got connections, but not that many."
Weiss huffed, spinning her chair in a circle.
"No, I meant can you keep my name private while I do this? Like, don't tell Ruby. I don't want her to know I was involved."
"Oh...kay, any reason why?"
"It's just better if she doesn't know I'm involved. Tell her I'm just your friend from college."
This wouldn't strictly be a lie, as she had attended a few business management classes with Ren at Atlas U a few years prior. He seemed okay with that idea, nodding and adjusting the buttons on his jacket.
"Alright, we can do this. I want him in a cell as badly as you want him underground. But you need to follow the training regime. Or you will be the one in the unmarked grave."
"Alright, I get it. Work out. Geez, man, every time you open your mouth today is to tell me I'm too weak."
"I never said that. I'm sure you're plenty strong."
She chuckled nervously, scratching her nose.
"Well..."
"What's your bench weight?"
Eighty pounds, max.
"Like, one-twenty?"
He scoffed, laughing. She wanted to yell at him, but this was a trained huntsman with years of gym experience and battle training.
"What do you think Ruby's is?"
"I dunno, two, two-thirty?"
Be paused.
"Six hundred and eighty-eight pounds."
"Guhh-"
"Yeah, you need to work out. Actually, speaking of, I forgot I had this. Here."
He reached into his jacket again, pulling out a little envelope from one of his deep pockets. She took it from his fingers and read off the little pink pen scribbled on the front.
"Nora's Workout? Huh, a training schedule, eh?"
"Yeah, she wrote that up this morning before I left. I didn't get a chance to read it, but I'm sure it's reasonable. Don't be alarmed if she's added a whole bunch of squats or lunges. She kept whispering 'booty' to herself while writing it. I personally think you have a good enough booty as it is."
She snickered up at him, placing the envelope aside.
"Why thank you Ren, your ass is excellent as well. Gosh, if only I had a glass of scotch to toast to it, we'd be set."
"Too bad."
"Wait, actually..."
She reached over to her top-most drawer and pulled it open, grabbing a chrome box trimmed in gold leaf. With a thunk, it hit the tabletop.
"Now, it's not scotch, but I figured we need to celebrate this new turning point. Voila."
The lid came open, revealing a row of neatly packaged brown paper cylinders, a strange circular cutting tool, and a similarly chrome-and-gold lighter. She pulled two of the cylinders out.
"Cigars?"
"Freshly imported. Menagerie."
"Thought you quit smoking."
"I did. This is a celebration, it doesn't count. Besides, no one else I know smokes, so who am I gonna give them to?"
"A fair point."
He took his from her, grabbing the cutters from the box and snipping the end of the paper off. She took it in turn to do the same, gently placing the cutter back into the little recess in the padded box. The lighter came out of its hole with a little more force than she was expecting, but once it was free she flicked it open and set it ablaze.
"To turning a new leaf?"
"How about... to saving Ruby."
Weiss smiled.
"I like that better. To saving Ruby!"
They 'clinked' their cigars, lighting the ends and each taking a deep drag. The course, acrid smoke filled her lungs immediately. It was not what she had been expecting.
"Wahhh!"
She coughed, nearly throwing up onto her desk as her lungs heaved with a sharp pain. Ren was doing his best to not do the same, coughing into his fist. Each time he did, little puffs of smoke plumed out from within his fingers.
"What the fuck is in these things?"
Her questioning didn't stop her from taking a second drag from the horrible tasting garbage-stick.
"I believe it's pretty much pure tobacco."
Hey, at least it was better for them than regular cigarettes.
"This stuff sucks. But you know what?"
"What?"
She took another drag.
"Feels right. Like I am in control of how badly my life sucks."
Ren took another of his own.
"Deeply philosophical. However, I can't help but notice you're currently injuring yourself on purpose."
Weiss shrugged, finishing off her cigar and putting it out in the chrome ash tray on the inside of the box's lid. She coughed a few times. Yep, this was definitely worse in terms of the mouth and lung feel compared to cigarettes, but now that she had finished it, she noticed it actually tasted better. Not that she advocated smoking at all. Ren finished his as well, putting it out on the sole of his shoe.
"Yeah, story of my life. I'm workin' on it, though. You'll see."
"I intend to. That's why I'm here."
"So what are you gonna do now?"
He sighed, blowing a final cloud of thick smoke out through his nose, swirling it around his face.
"I have to get back on the plane, and make the trip to Patch."
"You're gonna go see Ruby?"
"And Yang. We have things to discuss."
Her shoulders fell.
"Oh... does that mean you have to leave now?"
"I do. Why, did you want me to stay around?"
She flushed a little, rubbing her arm.
"I mean... kinda. I thought you were coming around at lunch time, and I was gonna buy you lunch 'n all that. But now you're gonna leave and I won't have that chance now."
He blinked back at her from his side of the table.
"You take me on lunch dates once a month, and besides, I'll be back for real business reasons in twelve days. Don' t be so dramatic."
"Bitch, I'm the queen of drama."
"Oh, I know. I used to live across the hall from you."
"Ugh, don't remind me. Look, if you need to break my heart and stand me up, you go. Go see Ruby."
"There are nicer ways to kick me out of your office."
She laughed.
"Go! And if you can... give her a hug from me?"
"Want me to keep your identity secret for that too?"
"Mmm... nah. You can tell her that one."
It was his turn to chuckle.
"Alright, I certainly will. Get on that list, Weiss. I suggest you see your sister first."
He stood, placing his cigar stub in the ashtray and straightening his jacket, brushing off a few bits of fluff.
"I will. We're gonna do this, Ren."
"We are. Adieu."
As he turned to leave, Weiss called out again for him, a smile coming to her lips.
"Ap-pap-pap-pap. You don't get to leave yet. You forgot something."
He turned back around.
"What would that be?"
She extended both her arms forward to him.
"My hug."
With an amused smile, he sauntered back over and embraced the short woman, who had to get up on her tiptoes just to hug him properly. After a second or two, she released him, straightening his tie as she stepped back.
"There. You go see Ruby. Get outta my office."
He chuckled.
"I will. I'll be back."
She waved him off as he left, but not before stopping at the door and giving her the same look a concerned but proud parent might. She blew him a dramatic, arm-flailing kiss as he left with a dry laugh. The moment the door clicked shut, she relaxed, dropping her shoulders down and relaxing against the edge of her desk.
"I hope that's soon, buddy."
Being friends with Ren had its benefits, sometimes. He was polite, respectful, tact. He gave her expensive bits of new unreleased tech his company was producing whenever she wanted. The perfect man, really. She always thought it was too bad she wasn't into men, or else Ren would have been probably not her first choice, but the right one. Plus, it was a good thing she didn't like-like him or else she'd have been murdered. By Nora. Who was her second choice for women.
Today's benefit was twofold. They had a plan to take down a target they both needed to, and she had been able to gaze at his bum as she watched him walk out the room.
She laughed at the sudden intrusive though. She turned and looked down at the desk, where she had placed the envelope.
"I guess it's time to start working out."
She cracked her neck as she reached down to grab it. With a bit of focus, she managed to make a small, stable glyph in her right hand, using it like a pizza wheel to open the paper envelope. It fizzled out with a hiss and she reached inside to grab the fitness instructions Nora had written her.
"Okay, what do you have in store for me today..."
She unfolded the paper, reading it aloud.
"Step one; get yourself two large, muscular men- wait, WHAT?!"