This chapter didn't make it to College Fool for a proper proofing. Just a warning for his benefit, since any mistakes made will be my own. Other than that, I hope you all enjoy.

On this chapter, in a way this is where the story really starts. I had one reviewer who accurately pointed out that Jaune seems to not have much in the way of anxiety – and they were absolutely right. He hasn't faked his way in, so doesn't fear that. He isn't bothered about doing poorly in class, so doesn't fear that. These things were done on purpose.

Here in this chapter, we see what he fears – and what his problem is. The reason I had him not worry about the above two was simple; I didn't want the story to be about him becoming a stronger fighter. This isn't a `physical survival` kind of fic, like OGT, NTF or FD where the stakes are death and the solution is to become stronger, etc…

Beta: College Fool

Chapter 6

Jaune had another man's hands running across his chest. That should have been a new experience for someone his age but sadly it wasn't. With a sigh he looked above the man's head and spoke, "I liked that dance of yours."

"Hm?" Brian looked up, a light sheen of sweat atop his bald head. He didn't stop rubbing the strange, sparkling dust into Jaune's chest though. Not proper dust, at least not the kind used in Beacon. It was little more than gel with some sparkling flakes in it. It made the skin smoother and a little shiny. It also left your shirt sticking to you for a few hours afterwards but that was a bit of a moot point.

"You and Nina," Jaune nodded. His hair was already a dark red, his mask in place. "I haven't seen that dance before."

"Ah," his old friend smirked, "It's a new one she came up with a few days ago. You know how Nina is, didn't even give me the time to properly practice it. Do you know what table you're waiting?"

"Table six," Jaune nodded, thumbing the small ticket while glancing past the curtains. As the star dancer of the Golden Oyster it was no accident that the table he'd been assigned to was a busy one. "At least eight women, not to mention a bucket of champagne, I think it's a hen party or something."

"Some good takings there," Brian mused, finally finishing and drying his hands with a towel. "You're ready to go. If you value your comfort don't put on any clothing before you wash that shit off."

"I don't think getting dressed will be a concern tonight." Brian laughed and gave him a solid slap on the shoulder, wincing as his hand stuck a little. It was fast drying and would be unnoticeable once he was out there, but the initial ick factor wasn't a welcome one. All around them others were doing the same, finishing last minute preparations, be it to their hair, face or outfits. Others were huddled around and discussing their tables, the local news or whatever else took their fancy. For all the strangeness others might have seen in twenty half-naked men crammed into a small room, there was no awkwardness. For them it was just another day in the office.

"Talk about smoking hot, right?" Someone nearby laughed, catching Jaune's attention. He didn't recognise the dancer; it must have been a new guy, but he was looking out into the main room and talking to another. "I was a bit pissed at first," he went on, "I mean it's still a solo job so I won't be taking home much lien but she might just make it worth the loss."

Jaune rolled his eyes at that. It wasn't unusual for the newer people to get smaller tables, less profitable ones. It was just business and never anything personal. Still, with but a few minutes left until their appearance that didn't stop him from peeking through to see who they were talking about.

He nearly died right there.

Another look, just to make sure, but the spectre that sat at one of the tables didn't change. Blonde hair and eyes he knew were lilac, even if he couldn't quite make them out. It was the outfit and the hair that gave her away more than anything else. Anyone in Beacon would have recognised Yang Xiao-Long's long mane. He was no different.

Shit, he cursed, tearing his head back in and pushing his back against a wall. Why was she there? What was she doing in the VIP rooms – hadn't she learned her lesson the last time? I need to calm down… I'm in disguise. She didn't recognise me the first time, she won't recognise me now. His breathing evened slowly, eyes drifting shut as he regained control of his body. The panic was still fresh and raw in his mind. The fear of being discovered – of being found out.

What would the people of Beacon think if they saw him? What would his friends think!?

Tainted, dirty, someone who sold themselves for money. His hands shook as he imagined the insults; the way people would point and stare. He'd seen it all before, women driven to dance because of rising costs only to be cast aside by family or lovers once they found out. The career was a damned one, something hated and despised by better people. If you worked it… if you were forced into it, then you were unclean. Would Pyrrha still want to be his partner if she found out? Could she afford to be – famous as she was? It would be a scandal. Rising star in the hunter world partnered to a sex worker. And Ruby, his best friend… she was so kind, so sweet… he couldn't imagine her abandoning him, but she would be coloured by the same brush – made an outcast by association.

Calm down! Calm down! It won't happen…

It couldn't happen…

He was in disguise and he wasn't even waiting on her table. Yang's attention would be caught soon enough and Jaune could be hidden by women the moment he sat at that table. No one would ever know. His secret would remain safe. It wasn't like he was going to be anywhere near her.

"You won't get much lien," one of the guys said, "But if you play it right you might be able to get something else."

"Damn straight," her assigned dancer laughed, "Just watch. Twenty lien says she'll end the night in my bed."

Sapphire eyes snapped open. He was pushing his way through the crowd before he could stop himself. "Hey there," he greeted, his smile showing a little more teeth than he'd meant it to. "Couldn't help but hear you talking about your table."

"Crimson?" the young man blinked, no doubt surprised to be approached by such an experienced dancer. "Ah, yeah… I've only got the one at my table but she's a looker. I might offer a little `extra service` if you know what I mean."

The others laughed. It wasn't anything unusual, especially in an industry as sexually charged as theirs. With how good-looking and experienced they were, taking a girl home was much easier than it was for most guys. Jaune had never bothered. He'd never felt the desire for an empty relationship.

But this man did… and he had Yang in his sights.

"Trade." Jaune said, holding his paper forward.

"Eh?"

"Would you like to trade tables?" he repeated. The young man – older actually, but it was relative – looked up at him, before down at the offered paper and out the curtain.

"That's a big table," he whispered with a little awe, "You want to trade for the blonde?"

"That's what I said."

"Damn…" the guy shook his head, "Well I'd be an idiot to refuse. Thanks, man. Hey guys, look at the big earner tonight!" Jaune took the new slip of paper, watching as the dancer turned to his fellows, laughing at his luck. The number ten was now in his hand… the paper seeming to burn into his skin.

"What are you doing?" Brian hissed, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him back.

"I don't know."

"Isn't that the girl from before?" His friend took another look. "Shit, isn't that the girl from Beacon!?"

"Her name's Yang."

"J- Crimson," the older man gave his shoulders a shake, bringing him back to reality. "I thought you wanted to keep this secret," he whispered, "I thought you wanted Beacon to be your chance to get away."

"I do," Jaune hissed back, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. "It's meant to be…"

"Then what is this? I know you're disguised but don't you think this is pushing it?"

"She's a friend," Jaune groaned, "And she's my best friend's sister." That said everything and from the way Brian cursed, Jaune knew he'd figured it out. As strange as their relationship was, he did consider a friend. Not as much as he did Ruby or Pyrrha, but enough that he didn't want to see her hurt. He especially didn't want to see Ruby hurt, or to imagine Ruby asking him why he'd let Yang be taken advantage of when he could have stopped it. "I wouldn't be able to look her in the eye if I left her to be picked up by someone, to be fleeced of lien and probably more because she fell for some guy's tricks."

"You and your damn heart," Brian sighed, "Just… I get why you're doing this, I do. But be careful."

Jaune nodded, taking a deep breath. He knew what to do – he didn't need to be told. Whatever Yang was doing here, she wasn't the kind of person for this life. If she'd fled the first time he'd started stripping then that much was clear. This was a world where the men were trained and taught to take and break hearts, to lure lien out of vulnerable women. Most of the customers knew that… they accepted it. He didn't think Yang had on either account.

And so it was, as they all walked out and she turned to face him – to press her palm against his frantically beating heart, Jaune forced down his terror. He pushed down the fear, the panic and the very real chance that his life could be ruined.

And he smiled.

"My name is Crimson," he purred, "And tonight I am yours to command."

/-/

Yang had never been one for exaggeration. She'd heard of that saying, `heart beating a thousand times a minute` but always written it off as something silly people used to describe every little crush they had. Now, she was forced to reassess that scorn. Her legs felt weak, her heart was slamming against her ribcage and as the half-naked man settled down next to her, the couch suddenly felt too small. Or perhaps it was just that his presence seemed to take up so much of it. His knees knocked against hers and it was all she could do not to draw them up onto the seat.

"C-Crimson, eh?" she laughed, trying to manage her usual confident smile as she flicked some hair back behind her. She knew how to play the game, or at least Yang had always thought she had. Now, with him before her, she felt woefully unprepared. I was just supposed to see him dance! I was meant to get him out of my head with something easy. Not this! She hadn't wanted to talk to him, to have him touch her!

Liar, her treacherous mind seemed to tease. Her skin flushed. Those had just been dreams, stress, frustration or just plain old hormones playing havoc with her mind. People dreamed of crazy stuff all the time. It didn't mean they wanted it! And so what if his chest was both muscled and glistening slightly, that didn't mean she wanted to touch it or that she was looking at it for any other reason than the fact it was there. She didn't even notice how his abs bunched as he sat down, the way his tight, black trousers perfectly defined his hips.

She didn't!

"That's my name," he said. Even his voice made her shiver, not that such was hard at that moment. It wasn't raspy like she'd half-expected but rather soft and warm, like velvet across her ski- okay; she had to stop with the damned metaphors. "And what would your name be?" he asked, "Or should I simply call you my mistress?"

"My name…" Yang froze, eyes going wide as she hesitated to speak. There was no way she could give him her real name, what if someone recognised it? At that she felt her heart freeze. Jaune worked at the club, didn't he? Did he know this guy? What if her name got out – as someone who visited a stripper, no less? "My name's Clover," she said, whispering a mental apology for the old friend from Patch whose name she had stolen.

"Clover," he smiled, and somehow that made it feel even worse. Here she was not only visiting a stripper but now sat a table with him giving a fake name. "A beautiful name. I'd call you a beautiful woman too, but I'm sure you've heard that enough times." He leaned forward to touch her cheek, his finger tracing down her skin until it brushed against her throat. "I always think actions speak louder than words anyway."

Yang felt her cheeks flush, which made no sense whatsoever. He was complimenting a name that wasn't even hers. The line hadn't even been that good – yet she could feel her cheeks going red, not to mention the urge to look away in embarrassment. Get a hold of yourself girl, since when do you fall for cheesy lines like that?

Probably since it was being delivered by a topless man she'd been dreaming about for a few nights now. It didn't help that his gorgeous eyes were now focused solely on her. She'd never really appreciated those before… unusual eye colours were a lien a dozen, which should have left his blue ones painfully boring by comparison. They were not. It was like looking into a deep ocean, like she was swimming in it.

And with a start, she realised she'd been doing just that for a good twenty or thirty seconds, staring at him like some kind of moron. She should say something. Do something. But she had no idea what… this wasn't a situation she'd ever been in before and her mind was drawing nothing but long and painful blanks.

"Ah… thanks?" She winced. That had sounded bad.

"If I may, Clover," he said, reaching an arm behind her. She flinched but he didn't rest it on her shoulder. Instead, he let it lay atop the seat itself, close enough that she could lean back onto it, but not enough that it touched her. She blinked up at him, suddenly wishing she had sat a little higher because with how tall he was it made her feel small and weak. "You seem a little lost," he continued, smiling gently, "As though you're uncomfortable."

That was one way of putting it! What was giving it away; her cheeks, stiff muscles or the way her feet twitched as though ready to run? A part of her was angry, not at him but herself. She was used to talking to people, guys and girls. She wasn't awkward like Ruby, nor was she quiet like Blake or shy like Pyrrha. Yang had faced guys professing their love for her, and some just wanting to get into her pants. It was nothing new and she was more experienced than most.

But she was still a seventeen year old girl, and this was someone far more experienced than any teenage boy. He was a man, with all the allure, maturity and physique that definition implied. Come to think of it… she'd never really been interested in a guy before, had she? And she couldn't be with him either – this could not be how she started. No way!

"You don't need to stay if this isn't the kind of thing for you," Crimson went on, voice so soft and soothing that she felt she might melt, "If you want to leave then I won't stop you."

Huh? Yang glanced up at him. Was he trying to give her an opportunity to leave?

"You just look like you're not certain if you want to be here," he said, "There's no shame in realising that."

She hesitated, unsure of what she was supposed to do or say as she looked at him. It was true that this was well beyond what she'd expected or been prepared for, yet if she left now she had the sinking suspicion nothing would be fixed. Hadn't Jaune said she needed to face her problem head on – to fight past the nerves and anxiety? More than that, he seemed amused or pleased at the thought. Was he challenging her? Was he suggesting she was a little girl afraid of talking to a guy?

Well… was he wrong about any of those things? As much as she'd never thought she would be there was no denying that she felt both out of depth and a little nervous. That just pissed her off, however. She was Yang Xiao-Long, not some coward who ran away at the first sign of trouble. She'd come here to face and forget all about him.

"I came here for a reason," Yang said, steeling herself and grinning cheekily up at him. It was true, though now that she was faced with this she was rapidly forgetting what that reason was. "Besides, isn't it your job to serve me?"

"Of course," he said, turning away to pick up a drink. Yang took the chance to let out a quick sigh, closing her eyes and counting to three in an attempt to regain control. She had to be calm and composed – as normal as possible. She wasn't going to let this guy make a fool out of her. Just talk to him, notice that he's nothing special and then forget this ever happened. It should be easy. All of this is just hormones anyway, so once he's lost his allure I'm gone. "Here you go," he turned back with a glass of some cocktail in hand. It wasn't a sunrise but she accepted it with a smile, sipping at the strong drink. He did the same, though somehow he managed to make the act seem more elegant.

"Cheers. So, how does this work?" Yang asked, not putting the drink down. She could use it as an easy way to dodge having to speak. "Tonight you're mine to command, but to do what?"

"What do you want me to do?" he teased. Yang looked away with a frown, cursing. Damn him for throwing her a curveball like that. Couldn't he just answer like a normal person? He chuckled at her reaction, a rich sound she found herself enjoying. "My apologies Clover, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Naturally you can't command me to do anything, especially not if it was something illegal. But you can ask if you can do something. I will let you know."

Great, and now she was back at square one again. What did she ask him to do? They couldn't just sit there for the entire evening; she'd end up looking like an idiot.

"What do other people have you do?"

Perhaps she could take their example, so long as it wasn't anything too crazy.

"They have me do a range of things," he said, "Some just wish to talk and share their problems, others want for me to entertain them – some simply wish to feel wanted, desired and special." Yang frowned and took another long drink. It sounded so false when he said it like that. Did people really come to him just to hide away in an illusion? "Of course, there are also some who come for more tactile experiences."

"Like what?"

"Like this," Crimson reached over to take her fingers in his large, warm hands. Yang froze as he gently eased the glass away from her and put it down. She didn't have the time to react as he leaned back, tugging her with him. Panicked as she was, her hands slammed against his bare chest as she fell onto him. She was leaning on him, hands splayed out across firm muscle, her cheek against his heart. The movies would have had her believe it was a calming sensation. Her eyes were wide and body rigid, however.

Yang leapt back as though she'd been scolded. "Not that!" She flushed at the panic in her voice, not to mention the warm feeling of her hands. She'd felt his chest, if only for a brief second. It had been so incredibly warm and soft, despite the hard muscle she'd felt beneath. She swallowed, fingers itching to touch it again. She felt cold now, like he'd stolen her warmth. Take it back, her mind seemed to beg. She crushed that stupid thought under a thousand tonne weight.

"Oh?" The bastard chuckled once more, letting her scoot back in the seat. "I thought that was what you were here for. Are you sure you don't want to leave?"

"I don't want to leave," Yang lied, "Stop putting words in my mouth."

"Would you like me to put something else in, then?"

Yang's brain died. She tried to ask him what the hell he meant by that, but all that came out was a strangled croak. She'd never met someone so forward in her life!

He reached back behind him as Yang desperately tried to control her panic. No way had he just said something like that in the middle of a crowded room. Was it… was it really that kind of place? Her cheeks flared, eyes flicking left and right to see if anyone was watching, if anyone was going to stop him.

"Would you like some?" he smiled, proffering a small plate with some dark treats on. A loud breath burst from Yang's lips, her body almost collapsing in relief.

"Chocolates," she whispered, "You meant chocolates…"

"Did you think I meant something else?" He smiled, catching her eye from the corner of his. Her temper flared in an instant, more so at the glint of amusement she caught within. That bastard had known. He'd fully known what he was saying and what it sounded like. Of course he did… Yang crossed her arms, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Reaching down to pluck one of the small pieces from the plate, he leaned over to hold it before her lips.

She looked down at it, then back to him, unimpressed.

"Open wide, Clover."

"You must be jo- umph!" Of course he didn't let her finish, pushing the sweet into her mouth the second she opened it. Lilac eyes blinked as she accepted it, shivering a little as his finger touched her lip as it moved away.

"Is it nice?" he asked, somehow able to ignore her glare. That was the real kick in the teeth as far as she was concerned. It would have been too easy to get angry if it didn't taste so incredibly good. The chocolate melted on her tongue, unleashing a river of caramel that had her yearning for more. The thought of being hand fed by him was less appealing, however.

That's a lie~

Shut up!

"It's okay," she forced out, refusing to meet his eyes. "Why don't you have one?"

"You would have to feed me it."

"Eh!?"

/-/

"I am your servant for the night," Jaune whispered, noticing her horrified expression and pushing on in spite of it. No, pushing on because of it. "If I want to eat something then it can only happen if you allow me."

Yang, or Clover as she was calling herself, looked less than certain at the prospect. Of course he could have fed himself, she only had to look around to see that was the case, but he'd made sure her eyes were fixed only on him. You don't fit in here Yang. Look at you. For all your confidence and bravado this is beyond you. Just back out, say you want to leave. There was no shame in that; it didn't mean she was immature or childish. Perhaps the people who came to such a place were more childish for wanting to hide their misery in fake affection. Still, she didn't know the game. Someone would take advantage of that naivety… someone would take something she couldn't regain.

Swallowing loudly, Yang looked down at the plate in his lap, reaching out with a shaking hand to take one of the sweets. Jaune cursed mentally, affixing a charming smile onto his face as he leaned towards her, lips parted – as though to accept either a sweet or a kiss. How she could force herself to do it when her face was so red, he didn't know. Rich, dark chocolate pushed against his lips. Jaune bit into it, purposefully taking only half before leaning back to chew it softly. He watched Yang looked down at the remaining half between her finger and thumb, like she didn't know what to do with it.

Some of his customers would have finished it off themselves. Others might have placed it between their lips and had him take it from them. Somehow it was more alluring – almost arousing - that Yang seemed shocked and uncertain, yet that same desire he felt sent a lance of guilt through him. Innocence was never alluring, at least not in the manner of tarnishing it. He hated people who thought like that. And make no mistake. Despite her age, despite her confidence and easy attitude, it was clear that Yang was innocent, at least in this.

I'm really sorry about this, he thought in his head, reaching forward to gently take her wrist. Lilac eyes blinked up to face him as he drew her close, placing her fingers against his lips. He could feel her pulse racing as he drew them closer, so that the tips dipped into his mouth. He took the treat from her slack fingers, grazing his teeth across her skin as he released her hand. She kept it there for a second longer, her own lips parted before her brain started to work once more. She snatched her hand back, face aflame as she kept her eyes on anything other than him.

He wanted to apologise, to tell her he was sorry for putting her on the spot like that, for knowingly trying to humiliate her. But that would have defeated the purpose. It would be better in the long run if she fled in panic.

"You're… uh… pretty popular here, I guess." Yang surprised him by laughing nervously and wiping her moist fingers on the couch. Oh, were they talking now?

"I suppose I am," he said. He'd been a staple part of the Oyster's team for a while now. Nina and Brian were the best at their job and both had taught him well. "How did you know? I think I've only seen you here the one time."

"Well…" Yang's eyes still didn't meet his, instead focused a good foot or so over his shoulder. She shrugged, crossing her legs as she nodded to the left. "There are a few other tables glaring at me. I figured it was because of you."

Jaune followed her nod. Ah, the ever-present jealousy. He was used to it, especially on nights when they did things like this. The high-spenders almost invariably earned his attention, leaving those less fortunate to look on in envy. It seemed particularly bad tonight. They were glaring daggers at his schoolmate.

"Ignore them," he said, touching her chin with one hand and turning her back to face him. "They're jealous of you."

"I gathered." Yang deadpanned. "You must be pretty popular if they're so angry I have you to myself."

"Partly," Jaune agreed, "But I think they're also jealous of you as a person. You 're young and beautiful, filled with more life and energy than many of the people here." Jaune let his eyes wander over a few of them, most in their early thirties or late twenties. When he looked back to Yang it was to see her wiping away the last traces of a smile, taking a quick drink.

"Just ignore them then?" Yang guessed, getting a nod from him, "Yeah, I figured as much. I got it a lot in school."

She must have meant Signal, though maybe she got it in Beacon too. There was no denying that she was one of the most beautiful women there, with a figure and personality to match. Jaune wouldn't have been surprised if half the male population wanted a chance with her, and all their girlfriends feelings just as angry as the women here. Jealousy, sadly, was something he was used to as well, especially when he worked behind the bar and occasionally cock-blocked someone. The patrons assumed he did it because he was flirting with the customer… in truth he only did that when it was clear the woman wasn't interested in their attention.

"So… Crimson isn't a real name, is it?" Yang asked, leaning forward with one elbow balanced on her knee, her chin in the palm of her hand. Even then her blonde hair fell like a waterfall down the side of her face, soft and inviting to the touch. If it had been anyone else he'd have thought she did that on purpose, the better to entice him. Yang was something much more dangerous, however.

She was a natural beauty.

"It's not," Jaune admitted. There was a brief urge to throw the question of fake names back at her but held it in. He wasn't supposed to even suspect she would have the same. "It's a stage name. If you're about to ask for my real one then I'm afraid I can't oblige you."

"I figured. Can I ask things about you? Is that allowed?"

"It's allowed," Jaune nodded, "Though whether or not I answer is my choice." Normally he didn't. People wanted to know more about him in an effort to get closer, but in this case Yang was trying to distract herself and him from other things they might do. That was fine from his point of view. If satisfying her curiosity was all it took for her to stop coming here, then that was fine.

"How long have you been working here?"

"I've been working as an entertainer for two years," Jaune answered. He'd worked at the Oyster for far longer in truth, though that had been other tasks, usually far more menial. "Why did you come to the Golden Oyster?" Yang blinked and opened her mouth but he beat her to it, "Isn't it only fair if I get to ask a question in return?"

"I guess…" Yang didn't sound thrilled at the prospect but at least it would give him a chance to figure out what was going on. "I came because I was having trouble with something. A… a friend of mine advised me to face it head on."

A friend…? Wait, was she referring to him? His advice back in the library – but that hadn't had anything to do with the club. What was it she'd said back then; that she had wanted something but felt it was stupid. Him and his stupid advice to face her fears… he hadn't expected it to lead to this.

"He must be quite a friend," Jaune mumbled, cussing himself as a thousand different types of an idiot.

"Eh," Yang looked a little embarrassed, "He's more of a new friend. He didn't use to be but… well, I made a mistake. He's a pretty cool guy though; talks to me like a normal person and not a piece of meat, which is pretty rare." He was glad she felt that way, even if he couldn't ever say it. "My turn. Did you always want to be a dancer?"

"No." Jaune said, crossing his arms. He'd nearly not answered at all.

"What did you want to be?"

"That's two questions." he said. Yang rolled her eyes but leaned back and let him dodge the question. There were few who got into the business because they'd wanted to. Watching her, Jaune thought for a second before sighing and throwing out his question. "You came to the club to see me in particular, didn't you?"

Yang froze like an animal caught in the headlights, mouth opening a little before she snapped it shut. He didn't need to hear an answer after that, and it seemed she realised it too. Even if she denied it now, they both knew it was true.

/-/

Crap, crap, double-crap. Where had that question come from and how was she supposed to answer it? She'd thought things were going a little too easy, that embarrassing and dangerous mood gone once she'd gotten him talking, yet with a single question he had brought it all back. In truth she'd probably spent too much time delaying already.

"Maybe," Yang admitted at last. He didn't seem surprised. She would have called it arrogance in anyone else, but was it really that if he was right? "Don't get any ideas though. Just because I came to see you, it doesn't mean anything."

"Of course not," he waved a hand, "I'm just an entertainer. There's nothing inherently wrong in seeking me out. It's no different from a comedian or magician, except that my craft is…" he paused, seeming to search for the right words, "more physical in nature."

That was one way of putting it. He seemed to refer to himself as that a lot, an entertainer, not a dancer or a stripper but someone whose job was just to entertain people. That made it seem a little easier to accept, like they weren't doing some naughty. Maybe I should go with that too. I didn't come here to see a stripper – I just popped out for some entertainment. She liked the sound of that.

"Isn't it your job to try and get money out of me, then?" Yang asked, watching his face as he paused. The skin on the edge of his black mask tightened, his lips going thin. The expression was gone a second later.

"There are numerous private services you could pay me for," he said, "There's a separate room for that. Is it something you'd like to take me up on?"

"No, no… that's okay." She coughed and took a quick drink, trying to hide her nerves. It's not what you're thinking it is, Yang tried to tell herself. He just means a private dance, maybe a lap dance or something… Not that either of those images helped to calm her down. She needed to stop thinking of him in a sexual way. The last few minutes had shown she could talk to him as a normal guy if she had to. He was just a normal guy. Did she dare ask more about the private services? No… she didn't.

"It's my turn to ask a question isn't it?" Yang asked. He nodded, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. It was a nice chest and she'd more than enjoyed it the first time she'd seen it, but it was strange how it no longer bothered her that he was topless at all. Come to think of it, he hadn't made any moves on her for a good while now. Wasn't it his job to do that? "Why did you keep giving me chances to leave?" she asked. "Wouldn't it be a waste of your evening if you didn't get anything?"

Crimson frowned, his sapphire eyes boring into hers. She hadn't been imagining it. At first she'd thought it simple teasing, but there had been multiple times where he'd tried to make her go. Was that because he wanted to go off and serve someone else, to earn money that way? Couldn't he have just told her that and left?

"I'm afraid I'll have to choose not to answer that one."

Yang groaned, leaning back with a sigh. "Seriously? That's the question you choose not to answer?"

"Sorry, Clover," Crimson's grin was infectious, almost familiar, though she couldn't quite place it. It made her laugh however, which was a welcome sensation. Yang made to ask something else but for a vibrating in her pocket. Drawing her scroll she realised it was the alarm she'd set before. Was it eleven already? She bit her lip. If she got back to Beacon any later then her team would be in uproar. "You're out of time for the evening?" Crimson asked.

Yang almost considered lying.

"I am," she said instead. Ruby would worry and she had classes in the morning. "I have to get back to Bea- to my house." If he caught her slip he didn't give any sign of it. "My roommates will get antsy if I'm any later."

"Well Clover," he caressed her name with his tongue, something he'd probably had practice doing. She wondered how her real name would sound. "It's been a pleasure." He seemed to be waiting for something, and it was with an embarrassed gasp that she realised what. Her hands fell to her pocket, drawing out some small cards. "There's no need," he protested.

"Here," she pushed fifty lien into his hands. He didn't pocket it like she thought he would. Instead he stared at it, then back up to her. Yang's teeth teased her lip, suddenly worried. "Is it not enough?"

"It's more than enough. You don't need to pay me anything, we didn't-"

"Take it as a tip then," Yang cupped her hands over his, pushing them back down as he tried to give her the lien back. His skin was as warm as it had been when she'd felt his chest and for a moment she wondered if he'd be offended if she did that again. Lilac eyes blinked as she pulled her hands back, quickly wiping them on her jacket and turning away. She had to go before something happened to make her want to stay. "I'll… so I'll see you again sometime Crimson. Bye!"

She forced her legs to carry her away, just as she forced them to remain calm and not shake as she felt his eyes watching her. One thing was for sure.

Her goal of never wanting to see him again had crashed and burned.

/-/

"See me… again?" Jaune repeated, watching Yang leave. That hadn't been what he had wanted to hear. It also didn't make sense. He'd pushed against her at first – knowing she felt awkward. Then, when it became clear she was pushing back, he'd instead backed off and just talked, offering no sexuality whatsoever. Any other customer would have become bored with that.

Why had she seemed to appreciate it? This is a complete mess. I can't let anyone at Beacon find out about this. About what he was and what he did. It would have been better had he left Yang to her own devices.

Except that he could imagine her being led away by someone who'd convinced her he felt things he didn't. Of giving her heart and body to someone who only wanted a good time. Yang's an adult, he tried to convince himself. She's probably seen that a hundred times over and knows what to look out for. Except that women twice her age remained just as pliable under the hands of the entertainers at the Golden Oyster. They weren't amateurs flirting at a bar. They were professionals.

If he'd left her to flounder, just to protect his secret, then Ruby would have never forgiven him. Yang wouldn't have forgiven him either. Hell, he would not have forgiven himself! In that, if nothing else, he didn't regret his decision in the slightest. "But if she finds out the truth," he sighed. That he would regret. And as he looked down at the lien in his hand, money that Yang had given him for lying to her, he realised it was just another regret.

It made him feel sick.

In a very real way, the actual plot of the story only really starts here. Before has been set-up, which was mostly to show the changed dynamics between the characters. In the original show Jaune's big issue was his strength and covering his deceit, that was his plot (or rather his sub-plot). In this fic, the plot is not about that – as said above – but obviously about Jaune's double life.

Those have been fairly safe and separate until now, however. Nothing challenged them. Sure, Yang saw him dancing, but there was no big risk.

On a side note, yes Jaune is speaking in a different manner when he's pretending to be Crimson. That's just another layer to his disguise and you can see the two different ways he speaks compared between his talk with Brian and how he talks as Crimson. People do this all the time, usually in things like sales jobs or on the telephone. But he is meant to feel and read as being different when he is Crimson.

Next Chapter: 5th December

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur