Red Rose, RedRum

by Adjudicato

(Sequel to Dancing Roses) Red and White, snowy and verdant. Dance again and twirl in glee, gaily embracing this new discovery. Rose of Summer and Rose of cold north. But where will the dance end? What terminus will this waltz see? What fiery bolero shall mark the final notes? We will not know herein, but the Roses dance on all the same and the resolution marches closer.

5. The Stone Age

I'm sorry for how long this took. My uncle passed away, God rest his soul, and the words simply would not come. But here it is now. I hope you will enjoy it, Dearest Readers. I'm working on the next already. I'd like to finish this and be done. Now, without further ado...

Chapter 4

The Stone Age

Ͼ

Weiss opened her eyes to a pulsing dark. The room was cold. Rain pattered sleepily, dreamy, against the lone window. As she watched the pulsing pitch, a flash of lightning lit the night from behind her curtain. It cut a stark, hollow light into the black, followed quickly by the harsh boom of thunder. It rocked her ribcage and she knew it must have been a close strike. But that hardly mattered.

Her icy eyes regarded the room, her mind soft and swimming—not just as one who has awakened from a deep dream, but almost like a drunkard trying to get the last out of a liter bottle down. She intended to do something but couldn't quite recall what. On her tongue lay the taste of cool, crisp, earthy air from a savannah she had never truly visited. On her skin coursed the heat of seven suns crowning an endless expanse of blue sky.

She meant to do something but could not remember. Then, it came to her.

A rush of urgency as muscles beneath her stomach clenched, fighting to restrain nature. Weiss clutched the bottom of her belly and moaned, quiet and pained, before quitting her covers. She crossed the room with a tipsy gait, almost knocking over her study chair on the way. Couldn't recall putting it there in the middle of the room, but that thought came nowhere near the surface. All she could concentrate on was the need to reach that little room some few feet away. So, she pushed.

Lightning flashed again, and the thunder followed without delay. The heiress's dorm-room lit a hollow white, her ribcage rattled again by that monstrous natural bass. It was all she could do not to wet herself in the split second before the bathroom door whooshed up into its frame, the lights popping on automatically as she rushed in.

Relief finally lay in sight, the only thing on her mind. But when the heiress reached the toilet, what came was not what her mind had promised.

Heat raged across her skin and the room felt deathly cold. Standing there, swaying uneasy, Weiss realized she was covered in a goodly sheen of sweat, her gown glued to her flesh. The bright fluorescents of the bathroom stung her eyes. Turning to the mirror, she saw those eyes—icy-blue jewels that they were—looked almost bloody with shoots of red.

No thought at all in her mind, the heiress turned from the mirror and leaned over the toilet, then puked for all she was worth.

α

Ruby woke up the next morning around eight, maybe a hair past. She felt rather good, truth be told. After the night of dancing and carousing she'd had with Weiss, and that subsequent walk in the pouring rain, she was quite surprised not to be ill. Forget about feeling good, yeah? But she did, and that was nice. Her legs only ached in the reassuring manner of a post-workout. Her stomach ached too, but that was more akin to the day after seeing a comedy show—when laughing and such had all but left wrinkles on one's face.

And oh, how her heart soared to the bright day gleaming through her window.

All of it was burnt into her mind; every sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch were filed away in the vault. The way Weiss had smiled all evening. The way they had danced until neither could breathe. The air of intimacy that opened up and revealed itself to them, as the songs played and the lights flashed, as their bodies twirled and twisted in time with one another. Most of all perhaps, there was that beautiful glint in Weiss's eyes she had seen nigh the entire evening. Like some inner, innocent part of her had at last been given a breath of air after years of suffocation.

Ruby had only seen that glint once before, and it was so short-lived she had thought it a hallucination; it was when they first began to get serious with their studies (or maybe hers, to be precise) and the heiress had had a chance to show her true, determined, unrelenting self.

She was so damn close to bursting with joy, Ruby couldn't help but hum to as she got ready. Once her clothes were changed, nature answered to, and her breakfast down, she even began to sing while getting her things together. Nothing loud or boisterous, just a soft tune unconsciously expressing her inner self.

Weiss had suggested it, and Ruby could hardly believe that. The idea they take a portion of their year-end break and spend it in the same place was something she would never have expected from the heiress. Not from someone so serious and reserved as she, oh no, even if they were a couple now. But there it was. Bring her games and system, and a movie or two. Pack a couple changes of clothes. No need to fret, she has her own laundry machine and dryer. Where to sleep? Well, the heiress had said she would take the couch, and Ruby had given up on saying otherwise (though, not on doing otherwise). What if people talk? Ah, well, there's the tests to take at next year's start—so what if they get a jump on studying?

Ruby wondered if Weiss had thought it all out beforehand. She wondered if it hadn't been something planned, carefully orchestrated in the heiress's head. Surely, she wouldn't simply think up something like that out of the blue… right?

She left her apartment just after ten thinking about these things. Over her right shoulder lay the strap of a sensibly sized bag, within which was her console and a couple select titles. Over the other was the thick, heavy-duty strap of her old overnight—a leather monstrosity handed down from her father that looked more akin to a gunna bag. She didn't have all of her worldly possessions in it, but certainly enough to warrant the care in transit. All set and ready, don't you doubt. Even if it felt like her heart would stop at any moment.

On the train ride, Ruby wondered just why she was so giddy. Furthermore, she wondered why staying over with her girlfriend—and let us not get started on how that small, tender word tickled her mind—was simultaneously exciting and jarring, at once both nerve-racking and soothing. She disembarked at the MTU cradle with ponderings about the implications of this stayover swirling through her head. She walked the mile to the dorm trying to decide how friendly she should or should not be.

Going down the long hallway to Weiss's door, Ruby wondered if flirting might be proper or not…

Ͼ

When Weiss finally came to it was just beginning to get lighter outside. She, of course, knew this not. To her the only light remained the harsh, buzzing glow of the fluorescent bar over her mirror. As it thrummed and hummed, so too did her head. The light cut a dizzyingly bright, red-hot swath through her skull and all at once she could not hold back. The next five minutes were spent retching, followed shortly by almost passing out again.

But Weiss held on, somehow. Just enough that, when the retches finally ceased, she was able to drag herself to the sink and wash up a bit. Once she had cleaned the worst of it, she then dragged her aching body back to the soft comfort of her bed, only to find the cold covers as fire to her blazing flesh. Weiss would not be dissuaded, however—she was tired and her every fiber ached, so come hell or high water she would get a little more rest. Not hugging a toilet bowl, that is.

Hissing through her teeth, the heiress laid herself out as comfortably as she could manage, pulled the covers to her nose and shut her eyes. The world swam. The bed pitched and yawed like a ship in a squall. More than once she thought she would surely lose it again, all over the bed this time as there remained no gumption in her to move. Like it or not she was stuck there, under the covers, begging for sleep. She did not lose it, though. Call it willpower or effort, or maybe even dumb luck, but Weiss Schnee managed not to sick all over her bed.

And she called that a miracle, deep in the furthest recesses of her subconscious, as that begged-for sleep finally came.

The heiress slept for a while. No telling how long—she had neither the forethought nor the want to check her clock when she laid down, nor did she have any sense of time's passage. All Weiss knew was that she slept, and all this witness can say is that it lasted not long enough. Her dreams were muddled to boot, and ferociously strange.

One moment she was in Atlas proper, walking the daylit streets of Mantle's capital city, taking in the sights and sounds of a bustling metropolis. The next moment she stood at a beach, surveying the wide, nigh-endless expanse of green sea and blue sky that married into an incommunicably gorgeous horizon. After that she found herself in an empty place; a city, there was no doubt, but more akin to a graveyard than any lived-in place she could think of. Streets of solid gold stretched on in every direction. Buildings hewn in one piece from snow-white marble rose toward an orange sky (not from a setting sun, but simply orange) with busts of unearthly beautiful creatures decorating the sides. The busts almost looked human, but were simply too perfect to truly be so.

All the while, no matter where her dreams carried her, Weiss heard conversation. Now and again she could pick out a voice she knew, but far too seldom for her to keep up. They simply babbled and gabbled, tittered on about who-knows-what. Some were deep and baritone as foghorns, while others carried like the soprano grace of chimes. But she had no idea what they said, and that was just as well.

Weiss took herself a little exploratory venture along one of the golden roads in the graveyard city. Suddenly she heard her name, loud and clear and in the voice of one quite familiar. At first, it didn't quite register to her. She heard it but did not. The same way a song becomes part of the background when one is concentrating. But then it came again, along with a faint other sound. Something hollow and hard, harsh and interruptive. A click? No, not quite. A thump? Closer, but still not getting any cigars…

Knock-knock-knock

"Weiss? You there?"

Her eyes focused on a particularly interesting bust that resembled her father eerily well. All along the face of it were deep cracks. These marked it apart from the others, making it the only one she had seen to not be absolutely flawless. Wondering, Weiss peeked around the bust to look at the placard on the building's entrance. 'Truth and Reconciliation' was carved into the obsidian placard. But no, that wasn't quite it…

She looked a little closer, and the placard said, 'Weiss, are you awake?' instead. That gave her pause. It also made her world begin to spin, her body begin to pitch and yaw like a ship in a squall…

And the heiress snapped awake.

Ђ

Ruby looked at the Cheshire face of her wristwatch. A quarter of eleven. She hadn't arrived too early, now had she?

She knocked again and waited, then called out, "Weiss, are you awake?"

Nothing but silence. So much so, she could hear the little Cheshire watch ticking. This unnerved her. She wasn't quite sure why, but it did. Not exactly for the silence. No, she wasn't quite sure why…

Then, Ruby picked out the faint sound of footsteps. Bare feet padding on cushy, thin carpet. She stepped back and adjusted the large leather bag that looked almost like a gunna. A minute passed. More silence. Ruby began to worry when she heard a switch flick, followed shortly by the heiress's door opening. What she saw beyond the door caused her heart to sink.

It was Weiss, sure, but nearly a ghost of her. Clammy and pallid skin. Eyes sunken and ringed with purple, as though she'd spent the night boxing and gotten a few shiners for her trouble. Which is to say nothing of their bloodshot state; so many little runners of red ran through those icy jewels, Ruby almost couldn't make out the blue. Then there was the gown that clung to her form, see-through with sweat…

"Oh jeez, are you okay?" Ruby asked, breathless, stepping into the room without invitation.

Weiss tottered a moment, then stepped aside.

"Do I look that bad?" she half wondered aloud, half asked.

"Yes! Why are you even standing?" Ruby dropped her bags and stepped to within inches of the heiress's face. "Here, hold still. Let me feel your forehead."

Without waiting for an answer, or any sort of consent, Ruby brushed the matted locks away. She pressed her forehead to Weiss's, shut her eyes and counted silently. The heiress—still mostly out of it, still somewhere between dreaming and delirious wakefulness—could only utter a slight, weak groan as Ruby counted for what seemed forever. Her legs were wobbling and rubbery when Ruby finally pulled away.

"You've got one hell of a fever there, Weiss," she said, her eyes deeply concerned.

Weiss thought to say that was obvious, but decided against it. Instead she shrugged her shoulders and started back for the bed. She settled herself in as well as she could and turned to face Ruby, covers pulled to her chin.

"Sorry," she said, "but I guess this cancels our little hang out."

Ruby looked at her for a moment, then said, "Not necessarily."

"What do you mean?" Weiss cocked an eyebrow, grimaced thin. "I'm in no condition to have a guest, no matter how much I'd like that guest to be here. Besides, you might catch whatever I've got."

"So?" Ruby asked, her eyes afire.

"So?" The heiress scoffed. "So, since I don't want you to get sick, can't entertain like a proper host, and can take care of myself, there's no reason for you to stay. I'm sorry, really, but this sort of thing can't be helped…"

For a time, it looked as though Ruby might listen to her. She only stood there, still by the door, a thoughtful expression lighting her enchanting features. Weiss sank into a now-cherished memory of their time together—when Ruby had made her that promise beneath the moon, in the little copse of trees hidden away in her grandfather's memorial park. There had been a light behind her features that night as well, one not sourced of the moon above. Weiss had admired her beauty then, too.

"You look very pretty when you're thinking," Weiss said, not fully aware of herself, "but, please, go on before you catch this. I don't know what it is but it's horrible…"

Still, Ruby stood there, thinking whatever she was thinking. Weiss gave up trying to read her—her mind was a little too goopy for that by this point—and shut her eyes. She had nearly fallen asleep again when the rustle of Ruby's bags brought her back.

"What are you doing?" the heiress asked. Irritation started to leak into her tone.

"Setting up the console," Ruby answered. "Why, want me to grab you some water or something?"

Weiss sat up, grimaced at the pain this brought her.

"I told you to go," she said. Maybe her tone was a bit too harsh, but she was growing impatient now. "We've got two weeks before the new year starts. There will be time for this after I get over whatever I've got."

"I know," Ruby said, getting back to her task. "But hey, humor me will ya? I'm worried about you and not too concerned about getting it. That fever felt pretty high. If it gets too bad, what then? What if you can't get out of bed? What if you need something?"

"I can handle myself just fine, thank you." And she meant it, too. "If it gets bad enough then I'll go to the doctor. Until then, I can fetch my own water and get around myself."

Ruby put down the wire in her hand and turned to Weiss. Her silver eyes were glowing, the heiress was sure of it. Could have been the sun peeking through her window, but Weiss would swear that wasn't the case.

"If I thought you had a cold or something, I wouldn't be so insistent, Weiss, I swear. But you've got a bad fever, and it hasn't even been half a day since we were at the Siren's Call. Now, unless you plan to drag me out of here and barricade the door, I'm staying at least a while to see that it doesn't get worse."

The heiress watched her girlfriend's silver stare intently. Ruby, in turn, gazed back just as unmoving. It was quite brief, but a contest of wills did transpire. Glowing silver won out over bloodshot icy-blue in the end.

"Fine," said Weiss with a huff. She laid down and covered up once more, pulling the bedding to her nose this time. Muffled, she said, "Don't cry to me when you're aching and sweating and puking your guts up too, okay?"

"It's a deal," Ruby said, then went back to hooking up the console.

Weiss fell asleep not long after. It was the last time she would be lucid for a while, and in the end, she would find herself quite grateful Ruby had come crashing into her life.

α

It started to rain again shortly before sundown. The storm blew in silently, a celestial ghost with gifts of cold downpour. The patter against Weiss's window soothed Ruby as she finished setting her things up. She wondered, if only in passing, whether she had been rude or not. Simply barging her way in and refusing to make scarce of herself at Weiss's request. Or order. She decided it didn't matter, though. Her girlfriend was sick—by the look of her, tossing and turning, it would be a doozy for sure—and so, it didn't matter if she had been a bit rude.

Ruby put out the last of her things atop her old overnight, then sat on the couch. The only sounds around her were the patter of the ghostly rain and the even breaths of the heiress. They were loud breaths pulled in hard due to her condition, but at least they were even. Ruby looked Weiss's way. She had seen Yang like this once. Remembering that hurt a bit.

Suddenly, there was a loud, shrill chirp. Weiss stirred beneath the covers and Ruby bolted upright off the couch. She looked around a moment. Nothing. Weiss's strained, even breathing and the patter of the rain returned, made that shrill chirp seem like an illusion. But just as she was about to sit down again, Ruby heard it once more and nearly fell over.

When she stood straight, she knew where it was. Quickly, she crossed to the heiress's nightstand and looked around a moment before grabbing her scroll.

"Sorry, Weiss," she muttered softly, then opened it.

There was no password or pin. A simple swipe after opening the device and Ruby stood there, staring at a picture of herself and the heiress. It was one taken aboard the ship bound for Vacuo. Just after the good news from Blake and set against the backdrop of an oceanic sunrise.

Ruby briefly found herself breathless. Then she remembered why she had picked up the device at all.

Snapping out of it, she checked the message log, only intending to look at those recently received. Before she could, however, the scroll rang and Ruby nearly dropped the thing in surprise. Her mind spun with thoughts of being caught doing a wrong thing.

But she saw the caller's name, and answered without hesitation.

Λ

"Weiss, ignoring me is one thing, but skipping out on a company function to go frolicking is wholly unacceptable! Do you have any idea what this will do to your image? Father is pissed, and I'm not sure if I can cover for you on this one. Are you listening to me, Weiss? Hello?"

At first, Ruby couldn't answer. Her tongue was tied, her throat fat and closed off. Or so it felt. But the moments ticked by and she was sure it would be worse if she did not answer.

"Uh, hi Winter," she said.

Silence first, far too much of it, then, "Ruby Rose? Is that you?"

"It is."

She hoped that sounded less sheepish than it did to herself. Gosh, but she felt like an interloper at that very moment. An intruding snooper in a different world.

"Where is Weiss?" Winter suddenly demanded. "I need to speak with her posthaste. I'm sorry you heard all of that, but she has some explaining to do, and maybe even some bootlicking if I can't calm our father down."

Ruby looked over at the heiress's sleeping, fevered, hard-breathing form. Sweat lay in a thin sheet over her forehead. She made a mental note to grab a cold washcloth from the kitchenette after the call.

"She's really sick right now, actually," Ruby said at last.

"Sick?" Winter sounded dubious. "What in blazes did you two do last night?"

"We went for our own sort of dance."

"Is that so?"

For some reason, the tone in Winter's voice struck a chord in Ruby. It was not a wholly unfamiliar feeling, but it was one she neither welcomed nor much liked. A sort of indignation if you will, a burning at the very pit of her stomach like she had been wrongly scolded. If Weiss had been awake, she might have held her tongue—though, were that the case, she likely would not have been on the call at all.

"Look, Winter—"

"That's Miss Schnee to you," Winter promptly interrupted. "I am faculty here, please remember."

The chord broke with a whining twang.

"Look, Winter," Ruby repeated, "I don't know the history between you two, or your family, so I'm not going to act like I do. I won't say what Weiss's reasons were—I don't know them either—but I will say she didn't want to attend the company function. I saw it in her. So, I offered something else, and she took my offer. If you're going to get pissed at someone—you or her father—then let that be me, okay?"

She heard Winter suck in a breath, as though she were going to reply.

Ruby plowed right along, saying, "Right now, Weiss is really sick. I think she caught something in the rain last night, when we were coming back. I'll tell her you called when I can. Goodbye."

And with that, Ruby ended the call. The fog of indignation left her not long after, and she wondered if maybe she had stepped out of line again. She wondered, as she had on occasion of late, if this whole thing might be a mistake. On both their parts…

Ruby looked at Weiss. Her sleep was clearly wearisome, the slumber of the ill. She thought of how kind the heiress was, deep down, and how good was her heart when she let it show. The SDC reached far and wide, Ruby knew, and had both the means and the capacity to shape the world.

'If I don't screw this up for her,' Ruby thought to herself.

Ђ

She did not forget the wet rag when she went into the kitchenette for water. She came back with two glasses, one for her and one for the heiress. It took some time, but she managed to wake Weiss long enough to drink.

"Was Winter here earlier?" Weiss asked. Her eyes looked toward Ruby but could not seem to focus.

"No," said Ruby. "Don't worry about any of that. You need rest for now."

The heiress put a hand to her head. She knew a sick person could not well discern their own temperature, but that knowledge was lost in the encroaching fog of fever. It felt cool enough to her.

"I'm just fine," she said, sitting upright to drain the glass. "No fever, just tired. Guess I was jumping to conclusions earlier."

Ruby sat in the heiress's study chair, pulled up close and beside the bed. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Weiss's.

"No, your temp is definitely up. Here, I got you a rag to cool you down."

Ruby sat up and held out the rag. Weiss only looked at it as if suspicious.

"I assure you," she said, "I need no such thing. See?" Weiss stood wearily from her bed. "I'm just fine."

And promptly fell over. Ruby caught her in the nick of time.

"You're getting some rest if I have to strap you to the bed," said Ruby.

But that little bit of effort had exhausted Weiss, and no sooner than she was laid back did she drift off toward slumber again. Ruby noted the now uneven rise and fall of her chest. It was only the end of the first day of it, but she could see this illness would be a doozy for sure.

"Maybe another couple of hours would do me good," said Weiss dreamily.

"Yeah." Ruby placed the wet rag over her forehead and eyes. "I think it will."

α

Ruby's mind became lost in wonderings and ponderings just before bed. She felt out of place. She felt improper. She felt intrusive, and all in all just rather bad.

The day had started well. Her trip over had been occupied with good thoughts on heartwarming things—a romantic couple days with Weiss, goofing off and playing games, watching movies and maybe even studying. Then this sickness, and that conversation with Winter, and…

She shook the thoughts from her mind, found herself in the kitchenette. Another glass of water while she's there couldn't hurt, she decided. As she fetched exactly such, Ruby noticed something rather pretty from the corner of her eye. Two somethings, matter of fact, sitting in a delicate glass vase filled halfway with water.

The lily was a gorgeous, virginal pink, and the monkshood beside it a deep, enigmatic violet.

Small miracles happen in just such a way. We see a thing, or do a thing, or think of a thing (small and insignificant to the outside observer), and the small miracles simply happen. Ruby went, water in hand, to the bathroom to finish readying for sleep. And she felt better. A smile adorned her face, tiny and nearly translucent.

She went to sleep with that same smile, thinking she would have to thank Levi for his suggestion.

Ђ

On Sunday, Weiss was in and out. Ruby kept constant watch on her temperature. It never topped one hundred, so she held off drastic measures like the doctor. Rather, she kept a steady supply of water for her, and when meals came she put together whatever she could as a soup. Nourishing things, aye, but improvised and without recipe. She changed the rag over her head every time it felt even slightly off of cool. She helped the heiress to and from the bathroom.

For all of Sunday, Ruby was a living blessing to the heiress Schnee. Weiss did not realize this at the time, though. She was tired, thoroughly exhausted, and the fever, though not terribly high, raged throughout her. Delirium had set in quickly and stayed. For that entire day, she would only speak in broken, nigh-babbling fragments. A thanks here and there, or a lost question that had little place. She did manage to complement Ruby's cooking, but this was more reflex than actual opinion—an old habit refusing to be muted even by illness.

Monday came and it was no better. Weiss's fever climbed to a hair past one hundred and she dipped further into delirium. She talked more that day, but not in any sensible manner; she spoke to Ruby as if the two of them had been huntresses all their lives. Talked of Beacon Academy and pursuit of Grimm. Weiss even spoke as if to Yang once or twice, and it was then that Ruby most considered calling for professional help, worried the fever might run out of control.

"I hope Yang's doing alright with that prosthetic arm," was the last Weiss said to Ruby that day, before falling asleep and staying so.

Ruby worried profusely about this. She watched as the heiress breathed in rapid, erratic patterns, sweat soaking her clean through—even to the covers! Maybe it was the soup, or Ruby's care and worry, or even just the hydration and nature, but the heiress eventually evened out toward dusk. Her breathing settled to a stable pattern and calmed. Ruby kept the rag cold and hoped for the best, deciding to put off that doctor call just a bit longer.

'No need to make it worse for her,' Ruby thought. 'No need to give her dad or Winter something else to fuss about…'

By Monday night, the small miracle of seeing those flowers she'd given Weiss had worn off. She was back to worrying again. Not only about her girlfriend's health, but also about their relationship at all.

Tuesday came and went; Weiss's condition neither worsened nor improved. So too did Wednesday come and go. By Thursday, Ruby decided she would cross another line.

Until then, she had managed to get Weiss awake and aware enough to sponge herself off of the sweat and such. Small cleanings here and there. When Thursday came, she found the heiress to be too weak for it herself. The days of bedrest and fever had taken their toll and all her energy was wrapped up in running the fight against whatever ailed her. In a daze, Weiss explained this to Ruby.

"Okay then," Ruby said.

"I can take a bath when the fever breaks," said Weiss in turn.

But Ruby, rather than answering or saying more, leaned over toward the heiress. She placed the freshly wetted rag over her forehead, slipped one arm beneath her back and the other beneath her knees, and lifted Weiss from the bed.

Her head was spinning, her mind swimming in uncharted waters, but the heiress became aware enough to understand what was going on. And with her face blushing beyond just the fever, she made no fuss. She only buried her head against Ruby and let herself be carried like a princess.

"If you'll run the water then I can take care of the rest."

"And what, just trust you won't pass out or something?" Ruby sounded perturbed. "I said I was staying in case this thing got bad. Well, it's bad. So, I'm just keeping my word."

When they entered the bathroom, Ruby set the heiress down—on a little bench placed just right between the tub and shower—and started the water. Then, to the heiress's shock, she did not leave.

"Tell me now if this isn't alright," Ruby said, looking Weiss in the eye. "I know you're not altogether there, but you need to tell me if this isn't okay. Okay?"

Weiss's mind went every direction it could, full steam ahead. From the most innocent of thoughts to the most scandalous of imaginings. She felt she would pass out for sure with the heat, not just in her cheeks but radiating throughout her as a dying star. Pulsing, crashing in waves, tumultuous…

Ruby watched her eyes carefully. She almost felt she could see the world of thoughts running behind them. This went on long enough for the tub to fill to point. Once it had, Ruby shut the water off and rummaged up some towels, then sat down beside Weiss.

"You'd go this far for me, huh?" the heiress mused aloud.

"You took me across Remnant to see my sister," said Ruby, turning to her. "On top of that, we're a thing now, right? So yeah, I'd go this far. Further if I thought you needed it…"

She stopped, turned away. The bathroom had fair whited out with steam. Over the sink, the lone fluorescent tube buzzed, lit the steam as an eerie white halo. Ruby felt Weiss's weak, heated grip on her right hand. She turned and looked her in the eye.

"Stop being so nervous, then," Weiss said. "It's going to be awkward enough as it is, isn't it? So, stop with this and let's just do it…"

Maybe Ruby was making more of it than there had to be. Or maybe the heiress was simply too consumed with fever to make as much of it herself. Whatever the case, Ruby only nodded and went about it. She helped Weiss out of her clothes before disrobing herself. A moment later, both were sharing a nice, hot, somewhat relaxing bath.

Ruby found herself quite surprised at the size of the tub.

Ͼ

Before either really realized it, Friday had come again. Thursday night brought both a restless sleep, and then it was Friday once more. A week had passed since the year officially ended. Now there remained only one before the next. One more week of break, of reprieve from the learning and the schooling and all that.

And Weiss was still sick. When Ruby took her temperature that morning, it read one hundred even. While this did mean it had gone down, Ruby was sure there would be no recourse but to call a doctor. First option was one of the campus-provided, but if that failed (and like as not it would, being break and all) then it would have to be one of the few in Constance proper. This made her nervous. She was certain by now that something else would come of it to haunt Weiss.

Yet, another small miracle visited.

Just about eight that morning, or maybe a minute before, Weiss awoke in her bed. She sat up and looked around. The room she remembered so clearly from the last year of her life was a wreck. A somewhat organized wreck, but messy bedlam all the same in her eyes. Two small piles of clothes lay just at the end of her couch, between it and the door. The coffee table was covered on one side with a number of plates and bowls. They looked recently used. Beside these were seven or eight glasses, she couldn't quite tell which, stacked in one another.

All those things only registered to her for a moment though. In the very next instant, Weiss noticed just how covered in sweat she was. From head to toe, her nightgown nearly glued to her flesh. But in that realization, two other things came to her—both of them more important and somehow more pressing than the knowledge of being so soaked in sweat.

First, she thought to herself, 'I need to go clean up.' After this, she thought, 'Though, it is a pity since I bathed just last night…'

It was a funny thing how that clicked in her head. At once, Weiss was afire for a reason wholly aside from the fever; she remembered just what she and Ruby had done. Admittedly no more than a shared bath, but still. Relief, however, showed up almost immediately after the slight mortification of that memory. In recalling these things and having these thoughts, Weiss realized…

Lucidity had returned.

Ђ

Her mind returned and fever be damned, Weiss talked Ruby out of calling a doctor. This was less out of the latter's concern that it might cause trouble and more for Weiss's pride. She was a Schnee, after all. She would get through this under her own steam. Considering, that is, the hope for improvement she found in her returned faculties held course.

"If I don't absolutely have to see a doctor, I'd rather not," she said to Ruby. Saying, 'I'm simply too proud to stoop to that,' instead was, of course, out of the question.

Ruby saw through it in an intuitive sort of way, but nothing she could put to words. She went along with it, even still.

Ͼ

And on Saturday, the fever broke at last. Weiss took her own temperature that morning, and was beyond pleased to see an even ninety-eight-eight. Good enough to pass a driving test, as some might say.

Ђ

"I'm telling you, Weiss," said Ruby for the umpteenth time, "there's no need. It's just soup…"

But the heiress was having none of it. Yes, she had had to bring a chair over to sit in. Yes, she was quite out of breath from only leaving her bed and traveling to the kitchenette. Yes, she had lost most of her strength and energy in the week of being fevered…

She was, however, a Schnee.

"I can at least get our dinnerware and utensils," she said.

Ruby uncrossed her arms, turned back to the pot of boiling miscellany, and sighed.

"I'm not going to talk you out of it, am I?"

"No, you're not."

"And you won't listen to the logic that rest will get you your strength back quicker? I thought you loved logic…"

Weiss snorted a short chuckle. She said, "If that were the case, truly, then shouldn't I be fine? I've been in bed for a damned week now, haven't I?"

"Yes, yes, I know," said Ruby, uttering another sigh. She stirred the soup absently and without need. "If you won't listen, fine. But please, don't push yourself, okay? Patience is going to be your best friend for a couple days."

"I'm not sure patience would have the temerity to bathe me," quipped the heiress.

She saw how this caused Ruby to suddenly stiffen, heard the clang of the wooden spoon tapping the side of the pot, and it made her giggle. Not for meanness, mind, but as a sort of comeuppance. If Ruby were going to give her a hard time for trying to be up and about again, then turnabout would have to be fair play; she herself had something to poke at a little.

"Although," said Weiss as she stood and walked up beside Ruby, then began reaching for some bowls and glasses, "I can't say I'm sad that patience wouldn't do that for me. I'm sure I don't remember exactly how it went, but I suppose I wouldn't mind a reoccurrence to remind me."

"How long are you going to go on about that?" Ruby asked, unmistakably embarrassed.

"No idea," Weiss answered simply. Then, turning to Ruby, she asked, "So, what would you like to drink?"

"Orange juice."

Ruby wouldn't look at her. Her face was flushed beet-red, her eyes staring daggers at the boiling soup. Weiss felt a brief moment of remorse, until Ruby suddenly turned to her and said, "If you're really up for it again, I guess I wouldn't mind. You are weak from all that bedrest, so maybe I should help…"

For a second—just a moment—the heiress felt her blood rising. She felt challenged. But then it melted away, and both began to belt laughter like they had just seen the funniest thing to ever exist. This lasted long enough for Ruby's sides to begin aching and for Weiss to run fully out of breath, retreating to her chair for a sit. There, she laughed some more until she was sure she would drop the held dinnerware.

When they recovered, Weiss fetched orange juice for the both of them. Ruby served out their portions and they ate together, sitting at the little table on the edge of the kitchenette. It was only designed for one—had only the one seat—but they made due. Ruby used the heiress's study chair. And it was a good meal. They shared light conversation, talked about the remaining week of break and what they might do.

Just before supper was finished, Ruby mentioned something in passing that stuck with Weiss for days after. Stuck to her like glue.

Ͼ

'We've been out and about together many times now!' Weiss thought to herself. She lay awake Sunday night, just as she had Saturday night. She thought, 'Surely she's not right…'

But no matter how many times she tried to remember, the heiress could only see it as Ruby had said. They had indeed done quite a few things together, most of which was going out to various restaurants. They had been to a single movie, yes, and there was the trip abroad (which went so very well in the end). Studies too, but that hardly counted as being out and about.

'Dating,' she reminded herself.

Oh, that simply would not do, no. Weiss decided this on Monday night, and began to put something together no sooner than she awoke on Tuesday morning. Something she hoped would be wonderful in the end. But first, she would have to reconnoiter. If it were going to be memorable—and, perhaps as a bonus and more to her style, a good way of repaying Ruby's abundant kindness to her in the last week—then she would have to figure out just what would get the job done.

Weiss saw her opportunity Tuesday evening.

Ђ

Supper was finished almost on the stroke of seven that evening. At last, the heiress had managed to talk Ruby into something besides soup. She was grateful for her concern of a relapse, but she was also becoming quite tired of stock. She said as much to Ruby, and the woman did relent. They had a pizza. It was the most delicious thing Weiss could recently remember having.

After they finished, Ruby suggested something that piqued the heiress.

"I brought my system over so we could play," said Ruby, nodding toward the very item. "But all we've done since I got here—besides you being sick and all—is watch an occasional movie on it. I mean, watching movies with you is fine, or just talking, but how about we actually play a game?"

They sat on the couch, side by side. As if by pure instinct, Weiss had taken hold of Ruby's hand. It just felt right. Now, at her words, the heiress turned and met the silver gaze beside her.

"Sounds perfectly fine to me," she said. "What did you have in mind?"

"How about this?" Ruby held up a familiar box, Demon's Souls written in bold, fancy lettering across its face.

Weiss could only smile.

"Perfect," she said.

"Ok then, so how about we do this…"

Ruby stood and got everything ready. When she sat back down, she handed the controller to Weiss and flipped on the heiress's small tv set.

"We'll do it turn-based, yeah?" said Ruby. "You can go first, but if you die twice then it's my turn. How's that?"

"I guess that could work," Weiss answered. Though she was loathe to do so, she then added, "But, don't you think that would be a bit… uneven?"

"How so?" Ruby tilted her head.

Ignoring how cute she thought that looked, Weiss went on, saying, "Well, you've had much more experience with this than me. And, while I'm not one to ask for advantages, I think it might be proper if you accommodated that."

Ruby giggled, said, "You have a point. Then, how's two deaths for me and three for you sound?"

"Sounds good to me," said the heiress with a faint grin.

Now, it was all formulated rather quickly, Weiss's planned reconnaissance, but it did end up working out a treat. She didn't even have to feign being terrible at the game; she was, in fact, still quite awful at the slow-paced, lumbering, thoughtful nature of the combat and quite taken off guard by the ambush-laden environs. In little time at all, Weiss had exhausted the three lives she was given for their shared knight.

"It's okay, Weiss," Ruby insisted, taking the offered controller. "Takes lots of time to get used to. I'm still pretty rusty too, so I'll probably die about as quickly."

Hogwash that was, of course. A bit of attempted but poorly executed modesty. Before the heiress's eyes, Ruby guided their shared knight to the bloodstain, picked up their dropped souls, and went on with expert ease. Three ambushes and a life-or-death dash later, and, as Ruby informed her, they stood before a fog-wall which hid a boss.

She thought it might not be the best time, but Weiss decided to go for it anyway.

"So," she said, watching Ruby prepare for the looming fight, "what sort of things do you like to do?"

Yeah, maybe not the best way to broach the topic, but it would do. Ruby seemed pretty nonplussed either way, so that much was good. Weiss thought she might pull it off without a hitch. Maybe…

"Is this about what I said Saturday?" Ruby asked in turn.

"That obvious huh?" Weiss nodded to herself. "Well, yes, it is. We are a couple now, after all, so… we should do more couple-ish things, should we not?"

Ruby snorted a chuckle. Their shared knight bounded suddenly in a diagonal roll, the result of a miss-pressed button.

"You say that like it's such a clinical thing, Weiss," said Ruby. "I would like to go out and do things with you, yeah, but it doesn't have to be couple-ish stuff. We can just go out to go out, you know? But before I answer, why not tell me some of what you like to do?"

"Because I asked you first," the heiress answered quickly, quicker than she could actually consider.

"Okay, fine. You got me there." Ruby moved their knight to the fog wall, then hesitated. Only a moment though.

The sound, to Weiss's ear, of breaching the fog came as a brief earthquake rumble, jarring in its abrupt, queerly warbling tone.

"I'm a pretty big fan of just getting out and being active," Ruby went on as the battle proper began. "I usually play the sort of games I do because it soothes my wanderlust. I used to think they gave me that wanderlust, but I see now that wasn't the case."

The lumbering monster took a good swing at her, and Ruby deftly rolled out of it. No sooner than she had, however, it came back for another that Weiss was sure she could not outmaneuver. Indeed, Ruby blocked this one—got tossed into a backflip for it—and went right along, as though nothing were amiss. The heiress marveled at her girlfriend's reflexes and timing, virtual representation notwithstanding.

"Remember those games I showed you, when you came over for the letter?"

"I do," said Weiss, nodding.

"Well, do you remember the one called Morrowind?"

"Yes."

She dodged another swing, countered and said, "That one is my favorite for just getting lost. The music, the scenery, the story you have to read instead of just watching… It grabs you and pulls you in, makes you live in its world for however long you play. And I love that about it.

"So, when I go out places, I usually try to figure out something that will just draw me in and occupy my mind. Parks and places like that are always a good one; you go out to walk and sometimes sit, but always to surround yourself with nature and the outside. Kinda helps remind you how big the world is even if you never see most of it. Then there's movies, of course. Not the best way to get lost in another place, but effective if they're any good…"

Suddenly, the monster took a swing Ruby had not counted on. The damage was not enough to kill, but it did throw her off. She found herself unable to recover, and before she knew it the bold, bright-red words YOU DIED were taking up the center of the tv. She sighed, shook her head, and moved on again once the loading screen was done.

"Poor luck," said the heiress.

"Yeah," Ruby agreed, head nodding. "I forgot he switches up near the end. Sort of a second phase, I guess."

Weiss watched her go right back to it, said, "I put together that parks and movies were a given. But there's got to be more to it than just that, right?"

"I guess so," Ruby conceded. She guided their shared knight to a point just before an ambush and stopped, leaned her head back and thought. "If I'm going to be interrogated, then maybe I should just spill it all, huh? I've heard what the Schnees do to people they may-or-may-not take for making them cross…"

She cast Weiss an askance look. The heiress decided it was a comment made for comedy, and offered a perfunctory chuckle for it. In actuality, the comment reminded her (however briefly) exactly why she was so hellbent on deposing her father. Another problem for another time, though.

That thought frightened her.

"Anyway," Ruby said, returning to the game, "I haven't been in a while, but I really like concerts too. And comedy shows. Live performances, in general, are pretty neat I think. You get to enjoy something—funny stuff or music, or a whole story in the case of a play—and at the same time there's a sense of getting a peek in another person's mind. Or maybe I'm just overthinking it…"

Ruby said more, as she went about the return to the boss. Weiss only heard bits and pieces of it. For you see, her mind went somewhere else entirely the moment Ruby had mentioned the word concert. It was funny almost, how that sort of thing works—how the brain can make what seems like a random connection, and from that bit of randomness, an entire possibility might end up unfolding.

Weiss enjoyed watching Ruby make short work of the boss-monster on her second attempt, her mind occupied with pleasant machinations as she did.

Ͼ

It was Wednesday morning and Weiss found herself at odds. They had only a precious handful of days left to enjoy the break. The new year was on its way, and fast. Ere long, they would be back to the not-so-awful life of advanced education, their time together and opportunities to share any semblance of intimacy cut drastically short. The heiress had a plan now, though. It would require careful maneuvering, but she thought it possible at least.

Yet, there were a few things to deal with first. Number one—and perhaps most pressing—was Winter. Aye, Ruby had told her about the call, and the heiress had assured her that she would be on it soon. But that was three days ago now, and Weiss knew that, whatever the original call had been for, it must be urgent indeed by now.

They finished breakfast not long after nine. Ruby set immediately to cleaning up the meal, and rather than fussing to try and help this time, Weiss excused herself to see to something. For a grace, Ruby did not ask what. So, the heiress excused herself, stepped outside and started down the hall, already marveling at just how well she was getting around again.

She held her scroll in one hand and a thin, plastic card in the other. Once she made it fully outside and onto the second-floor balcony, Weiss made the call. It rang twice.

"Hello," said Winter. No familiarity, no worried greeting. Just that one word.

"Hello, sister," said Weiss in turn.

"I heard you were ill. Have you recovered?"

"Somewhat, yes. I'm still a little weak from all the bedrest, but it gets better every day. Ruby told me you called a little more than a week ago—just when I got sick, wasn't it?"

"I won't mince words with you, Weiss," said Winter, her tone perfunctory and plain. And yet, though she couldn't quite mark it, Weiss was sure she heard something else beneath the professional glaze. Fear, was it? Or some sort of anxiousness? Winter went on, snapping the heiress from that pondering, and said, "Skipping out like that wasn't the brightest idea, you know? Father was—is—rather angry. Pissed, to be frank…"

"I thought he might be," said Weiss. "Exactly how bad is it?"

There was a long pause, much longer than the heiress felt comfortable with. When it finally passed and Winter spoke again, Weiss released a breath she had not realized she was holding.

"I would be much more considerate of my actions if I were you, Weiss," Winter said, enunciating considerate with considerable emphasis. Almost like the word was heavy.

And then it clicked. Weiss remembered how, when they were both much younger and the manor could be host to rather unsavory familial interactions, they had learned to use tone rather than words to communicate. She shook her head at herself, irked she had forgotten.

"I understand," Weiss said, carefully sculpting her tone to sound remorseful. "If you speak to father before I do, please tell him I will apologize in person. I acted out of line."

"I'll be sure to pass it along if I do," Winter quickly agreed. To her relief—and yet, also slight worry—Weiss heard her sister's tone soften. "And Weiss," Winter went on, "do try to remember your bearing. You are a Schnee."

"I will, sister. Thank you, and take care."

Another pause, much shorter, then, "You too."

Winter hung up. Weiss was left to stare at her scroll, a busy tone playing loudly from the speaker. She sighed and ended her side of the call. It might not have been as bad as she had expected, but it was still far from good. Yet, this too would be a problem for another day. Sad to say, yes and thank you, but something more pressing was on her mind. Enough so to ignore the rather beautiful day just beyond the balcony.

Clutching the plastic card tighter than she should, the heiress opened up a link to the net through her scroll. She began searching, nigh frantic, for a site she had seen in passing some few days prior. On first seeing it, her mind had made only the minorest note. Now though, she was quite glad to have filed that note away all because of a funny-sounding name.

When she found it, Weiss smiled to herself; important item number two lay at hand

α

Ruby finished cleaning their meal some five minutes after Weiss had gone for her walk. She worried at first if her girlfriend was good to be on her legs, but was quite relieved to see the wobble of weakness mostly gone. Small miracles, she assumed.

With the cleaning finished and nothing else at present to do, Ruby retired briefly to the couch. She sat down, picked up her book from beside the gaming console, and began to read. A much younger Roland Deschain was quite in a pickle, and though she nearly knew the entire series by heart, she was anxious to see again how he would resolve it. With his big irons—the venerable Guns of Deschain—like as not. But for some reason, the book simply could not hold her interest.

She gave it a chance. Almost ten minutes worth. When she decided she could do so no longer, and Weiss had still not returned, Ruby chose instead to occupy herself with an old, passed-down thing from her sister. It had not been long since she became able to even look at it again, thanks to Yang's passing. Healing had come though, with time, and she felt it as good a chance as any to dust it off and give it a spin. That was why she had packed it.

And that was why, as she waited for Weiss, Ruby powered on the aging Walkman and popped in a veritable relic—an old cd she and Yang had loved when they were barely teenagers. She slipped her headphones on (also an old, nearly antiquated pair), leaned back on the couch and listened. Quickly she was carried away.

Josh Homme sang a Song for the Deaf; Ruby let it carry her to old, cherished memories.

Ͼ

"Saturday, yes?" Weiss questioned again, just to be sure.

"Yes, Miss Schnee," said the man on the other end. She could all but hear the nervous sweat streaking down his brow. "And, I see now, we've just had two front-row seats open up. Though, the price is a bit much if I might say…"

"It's no problem, I assure you." But Weiss was also assuring herself. She was, after all, dipping into her personal funds yet again. Not enough to harm them, no, but enough to question her fiscal discipline. Which she had been doing quite a bit lately…

"Very well then, Miss Schnee." This time, she was sure she heard the sound of a handkerchief, the man undoubtedly wiping at his slick, furrowed brow. "Will that be a card or an account?"

"Personal card," she answered, enunciating the first word clearly.

"Understood, Ma'am. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

The heiress assured the man that, no, there would be nothing else, and read out the needed information to him. When the call ended, and after she had checked to confirm digital receipt of her purchase, Weiss breathed a long sigh of relief. She went over all the checked boxes in her head one last time—a call made through her private line, encrypted and so forth, and the purchase finished with her unmarked account—before letting herself feel it. Happy, that is.

Perhaps even giddy.

Ͼ

Only one third, final thing remained. For all of Wednesday, Thursday, and the better part of Friday, Weiss worried endlessly over that third, final thing. It scared her; it filled her with anxious hope. It made her feel idiotic, naïve even; it filled her with an almost grim surety of her direction. It distracted her at every meal and made focusing on books or games or movies a titanic feat. But most of all, it loomed before her like an impassable mountain. This was because it was out of her control and would hinge on how her plan unfolded.

On how Ruby reacted…

Ђ

"Hey, Ruby?"

Her girlfriend sounded remarkably nervous. This snapped Ruby's attention away from her book, almost as though a nearly scalding thing had touched her arm. She spun her gaze to Weiss's icy-blue eyes.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Not exactly," said the heiress. "I'm just… wondering if you would go out with me tomorrow evening. I mean, if you're not sick of my company yet."

"Are you kidding me?" Ruby laughed, couldn't help it. She shut her book and turned to Weiss. "Nah, I'm not. I've enjoyed this, honestly—wouldn't have wanted to spend the break any other way. Well, aside from you not being sick, I mean."

"I know what you meant," said Weiss, having her own little chuckle.

It was Friday night, and they had been sitting and reading together for almost an hour. Perhaps a boring idea to many, but it was something both women found an odd intimacy in sharing. Cuddled up on the couch, books in their laps, eyes lolling carefully over the print. Worlds coming to life in their minds. Adventures playing out before them, all while they remained comfortable in the heiress's dorm-room.

Yet, Weiss was the epitome of frayed nerves. She had never quite felt so—save, perhaps, for that awful flight through the seedier portion of Constance, just before Chrysanthemum had come to her rescue.

"I love you," Weiss said, mostly unawares. She realized what she had said when Ruby gave her a wide, gentle, beaming smile.

But Ruby answered with a kiss rather than words. Short, but not chaste, not entirely. They came more frequently now, and deepened every time it seemed. Neither of them complained about this; both welcomed it, in their own ways. For Weiss, it was maintaining, and for Ruby, it was initiating more often.

"It's a date," Ruby said when their connection ended.

"Yeah," Weiss whispered. "It's a date…"

The heiress turned back to her book, lightly touched her lips, and continued reading.

Ђ

Friday night brought restlessness for both. And oddly enough, both noticed this of the other. The night outside was almost perfectly silent, the only light coming from gold-glowing streetlamps. A little bit of this cast in through Weiss's window. In this slight illumination, Ruby saw the heiress tossing and turning. Weiss, too, saw Ruby tossing about when she chanced to look.

Weiss wondered to herself if this wasn't becoming a pattern for her. She wondered if, maybe, things weren't going a bit quickly. Or, maybe not quick enough? Her head spun with so many ponderings she also began to worry it might be the fever resurging.

"Hey, Weiss…" Ruby whispered.

"Yeah?"

Silence. Outside, a breeze picked up just strong enough to be heard. A playful, ghostly sigh behind the gold-glowing curtain.

Then, Ruby asked, "Are you nervous?"

"I am," Weiss answered frankly. "Are you?"

"Yep."

A sheepish, short chuckle.

"We must be quite the sight," said the heiress.

"Like a couple of tweens," Ruby started.

"About to go on their first date?" Weiss finished.

A little more silence. Mutual, mirthful giggles broke it this time.

"I might be a little forward here," said the heiress, clutching the cover to her chin, "but, might I suggest something? It could help us get to sleep a little better. Probably…"

"I'm all ears." And Ruby felt that was honestly true, for she could hear the beat of every vein in her body then and there.

But Weiss's suggestion did not come. Not for a time. The mostly dark, comfortably warm room grew quiet as the grave. The little breeze outside had apparently finished its sojourn and was off for points unknown. Or something similar. That silence grew so absolute, Weiss began to hear a ticking. She spoke—for she had to, realizing that ticking was her girlfriend's Cheshire-faced wristwatch—lest the silence drive her mad.

"I'm better now, pretty sure, and these sheets are clean—plus, you've been sleeping on a couch for the better part of two weeks, so…"

The heiress couldn't seem to finish, but neither could she seem to back down. She stood on the cliff and wished desperately to dive for the waters below. That notion, like as not, propelled most of her recent few months' worth of decisions. So, she did the only thing that came to mind as she lay there, withering beneath the unknown.

Ruby saw the heiress scoot back toward the wall, pull the covers down to midway, and pat the empty space she had made. She wanted to speak, to say something. Anything at all, really. But she could not; she found herself only able to do.

Yes, Friday night brought restlessness for both. At first. But from the moment Ruby accepted Weiss's unspoken offer, that restlessness went away. It was replaced briefly with thumping hearts and fiery-hot embarrassment, but that too passed and they eventually enjoyed a sleep befitting moreso the dead.

Ђ

On Saturday morning—their second and last of the break—Weiss made their breakfast. Ruby felt a bit bad being surprised the heiress could cook, but forgot all that nonsense on tasting the odd dish of rice before her. Served paired with a salad of some sort, she found it quite the strange breakfast indeed. But it was filling, and it was made by Weiss.

They meandered about until just a bit before ten, when Weiss said, "You should probably head back and get ready."

She meant, of course, for their excursion.

"You still haven't told me what we're doing," Ruby said. She had packed away a good number of her things—readying to head back to her own place, where she lived—before starting on the gaming console. The heiress stopped her though, placing one unusually cold hand over hers.

"You surprised me with that dance," Weiss said. "So, let me return the favor?"

"If it means that much to you, then sure, I don't mind," Ruby assured her. She withdrew from the console, left it be where it was. She asked, "Can you at least tell me if I need to dress up?"

"You don't," said Weiss. "Dressing comfortable would be a good idea, actually. I think I might break out a t-shirt, if I can find one…"

Ruby snorted a single, loud chuckle, said, "You own a t-shirt?!"

"I own a few, I'll have you know."

The heiress poked her tongue out. This caught Ruby so off guard—having never seen her do such a thing—the woman nearly fell over at the sight.

For a while after, they bantered just so, going about small tasks until noon came around. It was then that the heiress bade her girlfriend to go on, get ready for their evening out. Twice more she assured her that comfort outweighed class for this venture. Many times more than that, she had to assure herself of the same. In her own thoughts. But by one in the afternoon, Weiss was alone in her dorm-room for the first time in exactly two weeks. It felt wrong, cold, and dead; She felt surer than ever of her choice.

Only eight hours to see, if she were judging the venue right.

Ђ

Which, of course, Weiss did not. But let us not get ahead of ourselves as yet.

Like they had discussed, Weiss met Ruby at the train cradle by the latter's apartment. This was at three. Both had dressed up in simple attire—rather nice jeans and an actual t-shirt for the heiress, and a well-worn pair of black jeans matched to a red shirt for Ruby, the logo of which pleased Weiss to see. At half-past, they boarded the line for Northern Constance, where the airships made port. The ride was calm enough, surprisingly, considering it to be a Saturday. They talked a little of this and a little of that along the way, watched the skyline of Constance bolt by in a blur of lights and colors and cold, concrete angles. Ruby remained curious the entire way, but thankful also—she had not been asked to wear a blindfold, at least.

When they arrived at the airfield, she became very glad of that. Flying without sight would surely have meant motion-sickness.

"An airship, huh?" mused Ruby, mostly to herself.

"We're going to Atlas City," said Weiss.

Like it was only the most natural thing, of course.

"Capital of Mantle?!" Ruby nearly shouted.

"Yes."

"That's a five-hour flight!"

Weiss turned to her, and the icy-blue stare that gazed at Ruby looked absolutely dumbfounded. A small crowd had disembarked the train with them, but they were now dispersed to do their own thing, whatever that might be. The two women were left to themselves just outside the airfield's primary terminal, the sound of whirring engines and fluttering wings filling the brief silence between them.

"Oh," said Weiss suddenly. "Yes, it would be five hours or so by the usual routes. But don't worry about that. We'll be taking the express."

At first, this made no sense to Ruby. They went on in, checked their carry-on luggage. As they were lead to the airship that would take them, it still made no sense to her. But when she finally saw the small, sleek, almost predatory build of the airship, it all clicked. Like the last piece of a puzzle.

Before them stood a Kaze-class corvette. Ruby knew little and less of airships, but even she knew the reputation of that model—how one had been used to make an emergency relief-delivery to Vacuo from Menagerie, taking only seven hours to do so. Oh yes, if you had somewhere to be in a hurry, the Kaze-class would get you there with time to spare.

"I don't want to know the ticket price for this thing," Ruby said as they entered.

"No," Weiss agreed. "You really don't."

And lo, they disembarked at IceFall—largest and primary airfield of Atlas City—at a quarter of seven.

Ђ

IceFall marveled Ruby, and the heiress, too, had to take herself a moment for it. Twelve enormous spires jutted up from the central platform—the main thoroughfare and point of concourse—blocking out a clear view of Atlas City. Running up the sides of these spires were countless landing pads, each just as busy as the rest, filled to the brim with airships of many varying sizes. From the smallest cruisers to behemoth frigates.

They spent little time there, however. Once their carry-on was checked again, they left for the Central Transit Terminal at the southern end of IceFall, bound for the line twenty. When they reached the CTT and boarded, their view of Atlas City still lay obscured, by a rather cheeky passing cloud this time. It did not register to Ruby, at first, how high up they had to be for that.

Then, the odd train began to move, and as it went the clouds parted before them, revealing a megalith the likes of which Ruby had never imagined to exist.

Skyscrapers that, much like their namesake, did indeed claw at the very heavens. Roads primarily consisting of a series of flashing lights to delineate the path. Sidewalks and footpaths made of what she would later find out to be hardlight, a true marvel of the Schnee Dust Company if ever she'd seen such. Countless flying vehicles of all sorts—from small, personal airships to little more than cars that could apparently float and fly.

Ruby's head was on a swivel from the moment they boarded the train, and remained so even after they disembarked. She simply could not seem to take it all in. To the heiress, that was quite a blessing. Besides how it made her so happy to see her girlfriend so enamored, it also relieved her.

For, you see, Ruby did not notice a single billboard or advert on their way. Even until they arrived at what looked like a decent place for a quick, pre-show snack.

Ђ

"Interesting menu," said Ruby.

"Interesting place," added Weiss in agreement.

Aye, interesting indeed, to say the least. There must have been two hundred people packed in the rather tight confines of Grilly's Pub. Probably the heiress's clout that got them a seat at a booth, tucked near the front. She had been greeted as "Miss Schnee" by their server, so Ruby assumed that to be the case.

Ruby let her eyes crawl over the interesting menu, trying to decide what she wanted. It had only sunken in after they sat down that Weiss had referred to this as a pre-show snack. Now, she wondered what that show might be, though she daren't tip her hand and reveal this wondering. So, she let her eyes drift and her mind contemplate.

Until a particular drink caught her gaze.

"Hey, Weiss, check this," she said, turning her menu around. "A 'coiled sword cocktail'…"

Weiss took a glance at Ruby's menu, then turned her own to the same spot. She found the drink easily enough.

"Raspberry-infused vodka paired with a crushed sage and jalapeno bottom, served over frozen strawberries," she read aloud.

"Think it'd be good?"

"Sounds like too many opposing flavors to me," Weiss answered. "What do you think?"

Ruby looked up from the menu, met Weiss's gaze. Then, oh so fleeting, the heiress saw those silver eyes flick to something behind her.

"We're on an adventure," said Ruby, "so, why not be adventurous? Let's both try it."

Weiss considered turning down the idea. She decided not to, and when the server returned, both ordered the odd drink. On top of this, Weiss requested a salad and Ruby went for a plate of chicken tips, whatever those were.

"Coming right up," said the server. He returned in seemingly no time at all, put out their orders and said, "Enjoy those drinks, ladies. They really kindle the inner fire."

They ate and drank in silence. Well, silence on their own parts; the rest of Grilly's was bustling so loud one could hardly hear themselves think. The whole time, Ruby noted that her girlfriend kept glancing at her watch, eyes darting around as inconspicuously as she could manage. It hadn't taken Ruby long to track her gaze to one of the posters.

Her heart soared at the thought.

Ђ

At precisely a quarter past eight, Weiss abruptly claimed their little pre-show snack over. She hailed a server, paid their tab, and they left before change could be brought. Ruby thought she looked nervous. She had no idea how right she was.

So, they went southward along the busy streets until they came to the largest theatre Ruby had ever seen.

Ͼ

H-hour had come, and Weiss was a nervous wreck. She had assumed she could handle it. But quickly, she was beginning to see how wrong she had been. The suspense twisted her up in knots. It came as nearly a blinding relief when they finally arrived at the Parthenon, Atlas's pride and joy of the artistic medium.

Ђ

"Holy shit, Weiss…" Ruby exclaimed in a choked whisper.

Before them rose the imposing, almost oppressing monolith of the Parthenon. Great columns of white who-knows-what holding up a roof of what had to be solid bronze with gold embossings. These depicted all manner of legends in the world of art—from the greatest figures of cinematography to the mothers and fathers of classical painting, and even some few renowned authors. Ruby spotted the visage of Stephen King himself, looking newer than most of the rest, peeping over the far western side of the roof.

But none of the building's details or features had caused Ruby's exclamation. Rather, it had been the massive banner hung off the front of the Parthenon, proudly declaring the Queens of the Stone Age to be playing their newest album as a Remnant-wide tour debut this eve.

"I had hoped to keep you in the dark until they came out on stage," said Weiss. She looked at Ruby, who stood, nearly shaking, with her hands clapped tight over her gaping jaw. "Guess that was wishful thinking, huh?"

"Weiss, I…"

Ruby tried, oh, desperately so. But she simply had no words. She only stood there gawping, and barely even that; it felt like her legs would surely buckle at any moment.

"Ah, Miss Schnee!" called out a short, stubby, bald man. "I see you and your plus-one have arrived! Please, follow me and I'll get both of you situated."

Only the heiress turned to look at the man. He wore a tweed suit and round eyeglasses that would have looked more fitting on an old school professor. His head, shining just a tad under the many lights all around, had not a single speck of hair. Almost looked polished. And sure enough, just as Weiss had imagined when on the phone with him, he plucked a little hanky from his breast pocket and started mopping at the profuse sweat on his forehead. The poor man was the epitome of nerves.

Though, that comforted Weiss a tad, seeing someone else equally anxious.

"Try not to drag the entire crowd's attention, Mister Humphrey," she said to the man once he'd drawn close enough.

"Oh, my apologies." He gave a quick, deep bow. "But please, if I may? The show hasn't long to start and we'll need to get you both your passes. There is a protocol, after all."

"I'm sure there is," said Weiss with a nod. Then, turning to Ruby (who she took gently by the arm), she said, "Come on. There's much more of interest to gawk at inside."

"Uh huh…" was all Ruby managed, more a sighing assent than a statement, as the heiress lead her into the Parthenon.

Ђ

At first, it all went by like a blur for Ruby. They went in, lead by Mister Humphrey, and got all their tags and tickets. Then they had a detour by the concessions, picked up some drinks and little things to munch on. By the time she was coming to and fully understanding what was happening, Ruby found herself sitting in the frontmost row, centered perfectly before the stage and with what had to be the best view in the house.

It sank in, then and there, and she turned toward Weiss with such a jerk that it caught the heiress's attention.

"Are you o—?"

But before Weiss could finish her question, she became the recipient of a crushing hug. She felt something hot and moist run down her neck a moment later.

"Oh gosh, thank you Weiss!" Ruby sighed. Sobbed?

Said in a manner indistinguishable from utter elation. Yes, that.

"Honestly, Ruby, think nothing of—"

And again, before she could finish, the heiress was stopped. It might have annoyed her had it not been done in so pleasant a manner this time. Mostly pleasant that is, for Ruby leaned back and then kissed her with nigh-injurious force. Their lips smashed together, heat flooded Weiss's lungs, and the whole exchange carried on for half-past forever. Then, it was simply done.

Ruby pulled away, tears in her eyes, looking utterly bashful and absolutely ecstatic all at once.

"This band is amazing!" she shouted. In the hushed din of the pre-show, her voice carried and was met with not a few hollers of agreement. "I didn't know you were into this sort of music, Weiss, but wow! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

The heiress giggled. She had not seen her girlfriend get so wound up before, and the sight was quite gratifying.

"I'm really not into rock," said Weiss once the giggles had passed. "For you though, I'm sure I can manage."

"Trust me, you're going to love these guys! Aw man, like, really!"

Ruby began to bounce about in her seat, so pleased with the thought of where the night would go. Weiss tried to say something else, maybe carry on a conversation, but was interrupted for a third time. Yet again. Only, this time it was no particular person that interrupted her.

Rather, it was the show.

Ω

The lights came down. A sudden hush fell, quick and heavy and vicious. Weiss's attempted response was stopped by what seemed to be the air leaving the room. Then, one by one, small cheers and applause began to pop up. Someone far toward the back whistled. One man maybe twenty seats to their left stood, hollered at the top of his lungs. More and more it cropped up, the cheering and whistling, the whooping and hollering, until the din seemed it would surely spin out of control.

Weiss strained her eyes, keened them to the stage. Five humanoid shapes came into shadowy focus, moved to their places. Instruments were hoisted; the din became louder. The one who had to be the lead coughed into the mic, perhaps to check it; again, the din increased. Someone close enough to Weiss to shake her with his baritone yelled, "Ho yeah!" She jumped. Ruby put an arm around her waist, then cupped the other hand to her own mouth and screamed. Despite how this mortified the heiress—the scream not the arm, which quite pleased her—those around them seemed to echo Ruby's sentiment, casting more whistles and shouts, calling for the show to start.

"You assholes ready to rock?"

Was that the singer? Weiss could not help but huff at this. How very uncouth…

"I hope you are, cuz we're sure as hell ready to roll!"

A sharp, buzzing riff started up, punctuated deeply with a melodic, mesmerizing drumbeat. Weiss actually found herself tapping her foot along to it.

"Oh, hell yes!" Ruby exclaimed beside her. "The Way You Used to Do—I love this one!"

The lead man started in, his voice a melodious incongruity, and it seemed to Weiss that bedlam followed. He rose from deep baritone to high soprano, sometimes in the same verse. Along with his tone, so too did the crowd bob and dip, shift and jive. It was nothing like she had expected. The music thudded throughout her. The vocals picked her up and swept her away. All around her were whoops and hollers, swaying bodies that would not let the rigid seating arrangements confine them. Then, suddenly, just as the first song hit its central piece, Weiss felt a pull.

It was Ruby. They were headed for the aisle.

"What in blazes?!"

But she got no answer. Ruby lead her to the aisle—where, already, a none too small crowd had also gathered to throw themselves about in what had to be a dance—turned and pulled the heiress to her. They collided, Weiss nearly losing her feet. Ruby neither staggered nor swayed. Rather, she gazed upon Weiss's shocked, confused face, smiling impishly.

"Let's rock!" she shouted over the pandemonium, and released the heiress.

The music continued to swell—that first performance climbed to its crescendo, a cacophony of guitars and drums and sounds Weiss could little identify. The heiress watched her girlfriend begin to bob and sway, contort in all sorts of funny ways. She decided, after a time, that it had to be the sort of dancing these venues saw. And rather than try to escape it…

Weiss joined her. She let herself feel it—the music, the singer, the momentum of the crowd, Ruby's energy—and did her best to follow accordingly. Sure, she felt foolish, herking and jerking about, twisting in all sorts of discombobulated ways, but it felt right too. Can ya dig it? She sure did, aye.

Then began the second song, this one a bit less energetic until two-thirds through. They did not return to their seats. The herky-jerky dancing continued, energy and feeling given motion and form. So, too, went the next. And the one after that. All the way until the end of the show two hours later—both women now a nearly breathless, miserably sweaty mess—they jived to the beat.

For Weiss, the entire experience was simply intoxicating.

Ђ

"Hey Weiss, how about these?" Ruby called.

The heiress turned from the bauble she had been absently inspecting and looked at Ruby. The woman held up two identical t-shirts, both of which were clearly commemoratives for the show. Rather typical for a venue to have a little gift shop, but the heiress had not exactly expected what she saw. Keychains and shirts and hats, and all sorts of various odds and ends. No, she had expected to see more high-class things, especially from somewhere like the Parthenon.

"Did you check the sizes?" she asked, pushing aside her musings.

"They're one-fits-all." Deftly, Ruby popped the shirt over what she was wearing. The heiress almost laughed aloud at the loose look of the thing hanging off her. "See?" she went on. "Yeah, they're mass-produced cheapos, but they look cool as heck…"

"Not exactly my style," said the heiress. She turned back to the bauble she had been inspecting—an abysmally low-quality mug she thought she might use for coffee during studies after this.

"We could match," said Ruby.

Weiss put the mug down for the last time, turned slowly around. Suddenly, she recalled what had been fraying her nerves the whole evening. It set back to gnawing at her like a rat among computer wires.

"How much are they?"

"Uh…" Ruby took the shirt off and turned it over until she found the tag. "Says fifty. Damn, that's pretty high…"

Ruby all but jumped from her skin when the heiress waltzed over, snatched both shirts, and began to march for the checkout. She watched her, almost cautiously, wondering about the hint of stiffness to her gait.

Λ

On the walk back to the CTT Ruby's head did not swivel as earlier. Fatigue from the concert had set in, and it was all she could do to drag her bones along. Though, in Weiss's company, that fatigue was somewhat mitigated. She looked over, to her left, and again noted the hint of stiffness in Weiss's stride. Could have been fatigue as well she imagined, but it seemed a little off. Not quite.

"Got to say, that was amazing, Ruby." Weiss gave a slanted grin.

"You're telling me?" Ruby gave a grin as well, hers beaming and wide. "I never thought I'd get to go to the Parthenon of Atlas City. And to see the Queens no less!"

Ruby stopped and swayed for a moment. Partly for her aching leg, but also for the sheer incredibility of the evening. Weiss stopped too, then turned suddenly toward Ruby. On looking closer, Ruby saw she was still sweating a bit as though they had only just exited the concert hall. Then, before she knew it, the heiress had taken her up in a hug, tight as the one Ruby had earlier given.

Only, Weiss did not bury her face in Ruby's neck. Rather, she pulled back after only a moment and said, "Let's stop by the park."

Ruby's head swam for some reason, but she shook it off and asked, "Park? What park?"

"Sector four is where most of the tourist attractions are," said the heiress. "There's plenty all over the city, but the lion's share are here. One of them is this sprawling art exhibit put up years ago that never got taken down. A nature exhibit, one might say, that eventually became an entire park."

The heiress's voice sounded off to Ruby. Warbly, almost nervous even. And timid…

"Sounds good to me," Ruby answered at last.

And so, by Weiss's lead, they went. The park lay none too far off their path, hardly two blocks away. When they arrived, Weiss tipped her hand that she knew the place, leading them along until they came to a small gazebo under a massive, looming willow. They sat down at the little table within. Behind the gazebo, a creek babbled along in the dark. Such a soothing sound, Ruby thought. Weiss, however, was anything but soothed. By any part of the place.

"Ruby," the heiress began, her voice cracking a bit, "what are we?"

Now, Ruby was no idiot, and certainly not much of a fool. Not when she didn't mean to be, of course. But that question caught her flatfooted, wrongfooted, and ass-backwards. She misheard it, let us say.

"People?" she offered earnestly.

At first, Weiss thought she was being purposefully obtuse. In the dim light coming from a little lamppost some twenty yards off, the heiress saw her confusion and sighed.

"No, Ruby," she said. "I mean, what are we?"

"Oh…" she felt it click, and Weiss saw it. "Uh, what am I supposed to say to that? I mean, we're dating, aren't we?"

The heiress nodded.

"So we're a couple then, right?"

Another nod. Was her face reddening?

"Okay, then that's settled," said Ruby. "Why'd you ask?"

"Well," Weiss began, "maybe that wasn't the right question. I suppose I meant, where are we?" Before her girlfriend could again be confused, she added, "As a couple, I mean."

Suddenly, Ruby's thoughts from days ago came back to her, a swirl of malaise and dourness. She was certain (and rightly so, though she would never actually know) that the evening had been Weiss's way of thanking her for the last two weeks. For taking care of her while she was sick, that is, and perhaps even for how thorough Ruby had been in doing so. The caring and sincere side of Weiss that she so adored, what most of the world did not get to see, was out before her.

'If I don't mess it up,' she thought again.

"Nevermind," said Weiss, snapping Ruby out of it. "I'll end up beating around the bush ad nauseam if this keeps up…"

The heiress straightened up and looked away, toward the lamppost.

"I'd like us to get a place together," said the heiress. "If you're willing, of course. If you would want to…"

Everything seemed to stop for Ruby. The calm air of the park, hardly a breeze. The soft babble of the creek, that natural tune which had calmed her from arrival. Even her own heartbeat seemed to deaden and cease in her bosom. For Weiss, sweat started to prick at her brow, her face reddened further, and her very being felt aflame.

'Why did you say that? Hell, why are you even thinking that this early on?'

It ran through her mind, again and again. No, there really was no sense to it, no real logic or justification. The heiress could not look at the idea from any angle and decide it was sensible or proper. None, that is, save for the angle of how it felt, and it felt no more than simply right. But she, too, sensed the deadening of the air around them, the silent pall that had so swiftly descended. It dragged on what seemed forever until, at last, Ruby's sweet, soft voice broke it like so much brittle glass.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes," Weiss answered without hesitation.

"But… why?"

"Because it feels right. And because I'd like us to."

"You don't think you'd get tired of me if we were around each other all the time?"

"No." Again, no hesitation, no vacillation. This showed clearly in her tone.

"And you don't think it's too soon?"

"Honestly, I'm afraid it might be. But I have no baseline to compare against, no knowledge on this subject, so… I don't know." Weiss took a breath and shut her eyes. "I'm afraid it might be too soon, but when I think about it—about seeing you every morning and every evening, or having dinner with you and not having to part afterward, or just loafing around, or even studying and knowing we don't have to say goodbye when we're done—that worry, that fear that it's too soon, it just… melts away."

Ruby said nothing for a time. The heiress became sure she would lose her nerve entirely if the silence dragged on.

"How do you feel about it?" she asked, her voice timid moreso than Ruby had ever heard.

"I…" the silver-eyed vixen began, but only trailed off.

For minutes she sat there, looking Weiss's way. When the heiress finally turned her gaze back to Ruby she was met with a stare that felt like it would pierce to the very bottom of her. Not unlike being analyzed.

Then, Ruby spoke.

"Feels like the bistro again."

"Does it?" Weiss thought about it. "Yeah, I guess so…"

"Do you know what I think about you?" Ruby asked, her gaze never leaving the heiress.

"I'd like to think so," said Weiss.

"Well, let me tell you, just to be sure." Ruby closed her silver eyes, straightened up a bit and breathed deep. "You've been nothing but the best sort of friend to me, Weiss. I hope I've done the same. And, for a lot longer than the bistro, I've felt… attached to you. Like I need you. Like you make me better, make me want to be better. When I say I love you, I mean I want to be a better me because of you…"

Entirely unnoticed to her, a single tear slid down Weiss's left cheek, golden in the lamppost's far-off light.

Ruby went on, saying, "I'm not exactly experienced with this stuff, either—besides a few guys I dated, I've never really gotten too in to romance, and even then, it was more palling around than anything—so I can't really say what's too fast, or too soon. Not for me, and not for you."

It looked like she would say more, but she fell silent instead. They heard footsteps, and a rather amorous couple passed by, likely having a post-date walk themselves. The two were laughing, holding each other, occasionally stopping for a quick kiss. Weiss tried not to look their way.

"Is it too soon for you, Weiss?"

"Whether it is or isn't, it's what I'd like to do."

They met gazes again. This time, both wore the soft expressions of those who have opened up their hearts and minds, and yea, even their very souls. Tears welled in both jeweled gazes—silver and icy-blue.

"Just to be clear," said Ruby, her voice unwavering and calm, "my answer is my own. I love you—exactly how I described—but I'm answering for me. I think, if we're going to make this into something long-lasting, we'll both have to do more of that."

The heiress moved to answer, but Ruby went on.

"I stayed over to take care of you because of how I feel for you. I did it because I was worried, because I didn't want you being alone for it or getting worse without someone there. Everything that encompasses, I did for my own motivation. It was nothing that needed repaying, or acknowledging."

Again, Weiss tried to speak, but again, Ruby plodded right along, a woman mid-sermon.

"I can't tell you how thankful I am for this outing. This date, I mean. I've wanted to see Queens in person for so long, and then you just up and pull this out of thin air! I can't imagine what you payed for this… And like I said, I really am grateful, but I'm worried you're not thinking enough about yourself here, Weiss, and that scares me. For what we have. For us. Don't see this all as a duty, or a set of cause-and-effect scenarios, or anything like that. If we're going to be a thing, then I want you to do what makes you happy."

What came next had the heiress nearly leap from her seat. Like a flash of lightning, Ruby reached deftly across the table and cupped her chin. Then, gently, pulled her close at the same time as she leaned in. Until their noses were hardly inches apart.

"I love you. Let me see you smile because you're enjoying yourself. Please?"

Weiss nodded. She could think of nothing else to do.

"Would you smile if we lived in the same place?"

Another nod, slightly livelier.

"Is it cuz you want to?"

"Yes," Weiss said, nodding still.

Ruby's hand released her, drifted slowly to the tabletop. They remained barely inches from touching noses. Since the table between them was rather small, this looked almost natural, like a couple properly ending a romantic evening. And somewhere, far in the distance and deep beneath their conscious awareness, both women heard a door slowly shut itself for good.

"Don't let me ruin your life, Weiss," said Ruby.

"Perish the thought," said Weiss.

They shared a smile, and a long kiss after. In the end, no straight answer was given. The answer was merely understood.

Soon after midnight, the two women finally boarded the Kaze-class to return to Constance. Atlas City had been good to them. By two in the morning they were back at the MTU. By a quarter of three, they were well asleep. Perhaps interestingly or perhaps obviously, Weiss and Ruby slept in the former's dorm-room, stretched out and dead to the world on the heiress's immense mattress.

The lock on the door that both had heard clicked into place, never to undo again.