Chapter. 7
Justice
It was surprisingly nice playing house with Yang, and that scared the shit outta me.
But we weren't there to elope and start a new life, we were there to give another victim of fate a new life.
And I was there to see that justice was served.
-{O}-
R. John "Johnny" Linder was a tall man with jet black hair and cerulean blue eyes. He moved to Atlas with his wife of one year, with their daughter following shortly after, after losing his left arm in a work accident. He could often be found in a pair of blue jeans with some form of jacket or sweatshirt and a pair of brown leather work boots.
Altiera Linder was a statuesque woman with long blonde hair and doe brown eyes. She facilitated the move to Atlas with her new job at the Schnee Manor as one of it's new maids. When not in uniform she could be found wearing a pair of jeans or leggings with a turtleneck and a pair of slippers.
The Linders were the envy of their neighbors, as they were the pictures example of not only a fresh start – but a marriage in the prime of it's life. Every morning Mr. Linder would walk to work with a freshly made launch pale with a large happy-go-lucky smile on his face. Mrs. Linder would make sure the house was clean before grabbing a coat and scarf and making her way to the Schnee Manor to start her own work. Mrs. Linder would get home first and make dinner for her husband, who often came home late since his job in construction had him working twelve hour shifts.
Yes, to their neighbors, the Linders were a fairy tale marriage to look from the outside in and sigh for love lost and passions long since burned to cinders.
But none could guess the true reason for the Linders stay in Atlas – and even if they were told – none would, or could, believe it. For the Linders were the picture of young love, of the Atlasian dream, there wasn't a snowballs chance in hell they could be terrorist waiting to attack the Schnee Manor.
-{O}-
Jaune came home sore from another twelve hour shift patching up the wall down in Mantle. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather get shot at all day, at least those are quick!"
Jaune entered the modest two story home Willow had bought for them, before stopping in the mud room and shirking off his jacket, vest, and in dire need or airing work boots.
"Ah." Jaune sighed. "That's much better."
"You know what make it even better?" Yangs voice called from behind him. "Dinner and a bath!"
Jaune chuckled. "At least she stopped saying "Would you like dinner, a bath… or me?" like one of those Mistralian comics."
Jaune turned to see his "wife" standing behind him with a hand on her cocked hip. She was wearing what Jaune referred to as her "Winter Wife" attire, that being a tight fitting turtleneck, usually yellow, with a pair of either tight fitting jeans or leggings.
It was hard to look at Yang and not think he was the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in all of Remnant to have her as a wife, only she wasn't, and Jaune had to remind himself that – unless he wants his budding feelings of love to grow into genuine affection.
"That'd be great, dear." Jaune said as he accepted the offered food.
After dinner and a bath, one in which Yang didn't try to take with him, Jaune crawled into bed, with Yang following suit. And whether he was simply too tired to refute, or he simply liked the feeling of sleeping next to her, Jaune accepted his fate of being an over-sized teddy bear for Yang to cuddle.
-{O}-
After about a month of our lovebirds routine, we finally had enough viable intel to make this job not only possible, but probable.
-{O}-
It was on a rare day-off for Jaune that they planned on their course of action.
Jaune leaned over their shared tabled with Yang on the other side of him.
"Alright." Jaune started. "Mr. Schnee and our target are going to be at a charity gala tonight, and we know that the Fang are planin' to attack."
"And during the attack." Yang starts. "I'll lead the "Young Master" to safety, then we'll run into you…"
"And then we fulfill our contract." Jaune finished. "See you at the gala, Mrs. Linder."
Yang smiled prettily. "Why of course, Mr. Linder."
-{O}-
Jaune had left a few hours before Yang had to be at the Gala, in order to get everything he needed for this plan to go smoothly.
Once at the Gala, Yang stood a respectable distance away from her ward, dressed in an ankle length black skirt with a pair of black leather two inch heels and a white dress shirt that was covered by a cinched, high necked, double breasted jacket with silver snowflake embossed buttons and cuffed sleeves, with silver snowflake embossed cuff links.
Her ward, Whitley, was dressed in a pair of white dress pants, that lead to a pair of black leather tuxedo shoes, with an opened white tuxedo evening jacket, – with a black lapel and outlines for his pockets – that showed of his light blue sash, and a white dress shirt with black buttons.
The pair mingled as required, before going to the balcony for some air.
Whitley sighs. "And to think, I actually wanted this."
"Wanted what?"
"This!" Whitley turned and gestured toward the Gala. "To be the one Father took to these events, to be the one he devoted his attention to, to feel like I mattered."
"It's… natural to want to feel that your parents love you."
"Maybe… but my family is far from normal… let alone my "parents", if one could even call them that."
"Well I'm-"
Yang is interrupted by the sound of a microphones feedback, followed by someone clearing their throat.
"Ladies, Gentlemen." Jacques started. "I would like to personally thank-"
Suddenly, every light in the Gala goes out, bathing the amphitheater in darkness.
"What is going on here!" Demanded Jacques.
"This." Replied a voice from behind Jacques as a singular spot light shines upon the pair on stage.
Jacques turns on his heel, biting retort upon his tongue, only for said retort to die a horrid, silent, death.
For standing behind him, pistol poised to execute him, was a White Fang terrorist.
"I-I can-" Jacques tries.
"For the Faunus, for the Fang!" Replied the terrorist coldly.
The deafening BANG of the pistol discharging a round through Jacques' skull bathes the room in horrid silence, until all hell broke loose as the windows smashed in as a veritable horde of White Fang terrorists flood into the room.
Reacting quickly, thanks to her Huntress training, Yang grabs Whitley by the wrist and dashes out of the room like a bat outta hell. Yang practically drags Whitley through the halls of the Gala and through the crazed, fleeing, aristocrats, they almost made it to the exit, but standing in their way was a White Fang terrorist.
Yang charges the terrorist, letting out a war cry. "You won't touch hi-"
Only to be pistol whipped, causing her to fall to the ground unconscious.
Whitley falls onto his ass and starts crawling backwards, looking every part the terrified fifteen year old he was. "P-Please! D-Don't!"
The terrorist steps forward and pistons his foot and has his boot violently meet the boy's face, knocking him unconscious as well.
-{O}-
Whitley groggily came to embraced by warm blanket upon a soft bed.
"Mornin' Sweetheart." Called a sardonic voice.
Whitley's eyes bugged out of hi skull as he jumped from the bed enticing embrace and looked towards the man.
The man was tall, he stood a whole foot taller than him at least, with broad shoulders and a lean, brawny, build. His feathery, jet black hair fell to his shoulders and his singular cerulean blue eye gleamed with amusement.
He wore a pair of dark blue jeans with a black A-shirt, that showed off his silver prosthetic left arm, tucked into his waistband and a pair of knee-high brown leather boots.
"Huh." He chuckled. "I was told you were a boy, but I'm not sure about that now that I've seen you naked."
Whitley gave the man a confused look, before the man motioned downward with his finger, causing Whitley to follow his command. He then promptly let out a very girly shriek once he noticed he was in nothing but his birthday suit.
It was at this moment that Yang burst through the door with a worried look on her face. "What's wrong?!"
She was greeted by the sight of Whitley crouching behind the bed trying to cocoon himself with the beds blanket while Jaune looked on in amusement.
"Monty Oum." Sighed Yang. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Y-Yang? W-What, what's going on?" Whitley almost cried.
"He jumped up and flashed me when I told him good morning." Answered Jaune. "And I may or may not have made a comment about his "manhood", specifically about how he seemed to have been born in the wrong body."
Now Jaune expected Yang to be mad, or at least upset, but instead she let out a coo.
"Oh! You mean his Little Johnny?! Oh, it was soooo cute!"
Whitley's face burst into a massive blush, which stood out quite clearly on his porcelain skin.
Jaune raised a brow at Yang. "And… how, did you come to see his "Little Johnny"?"
"Oh, I walked in on him dressed in one of his sister's dress' and-"
"I don't need to know!" Interrupted Jaune. "I don't need to know!"
Poor Whitley looked like he was not only going to die from embarrassment, but actively wanted a hole to open up under him and swallow him whole.
"Can we just… explain what's what to him and… get outta here."
The pair then explained how and why they were there, how his Mother sent them, and that their names were Jaune and Yang.
After that was all done and said, they then dressed him up with a wig, contacts, and a… dress?
Whitley stood in the center of the room with a long, black wig, lavender contacts, and dressed in a pair of dark wool tights that lead to a pair of black Mary Janes, under a light purple dress with a charcoal gray peacoat and a light purple scarf with light purple mittens.
"W-Why am I wearing a dress." Whitley asked in a high pitch voice, that sounded more feminine than he probably meant.
"Because they're going to be looking for Whitley Schnee, not Valerie Linder, Daughter of John and Altiera Linder."
"W-Who'll be looking for me?"
"The Fang." Answered Yang.
"They'll be looking to finish the job, after they got your pops." Added Jaune. "And speaking off, we need to get movin' as to not try our luck."
The trio then make their way to the airport, with three tickets to Vale.
The lady at the ticket counter cooed at the sight of the trio. "Oh! What a lovely family you have!"
Yang beamed. "Yup, I'm pretty lucky!"
"That you are!" The lady said as they left and boarded their bullhead, before mumbling. "Lucky bitch…"
After a long, intercontinental flight from Atlas to Vale, the thoroughly jet-lagged trio collapse onto the couch in Jaune's apartment. Whitley than gets up and into the bathroom to shower.
But rest as not in the cards for Jaune and Yang, as Ruby burst through the door. "And where the heck have you two been?"
Yang stood and held out her hands in a calming/pleading motion. "Rubes, I can explain – why are you staring… at my… hand."
Both Yang and Jaune had forgotten to remove their "Wedding rings", which Ruby was intently staring at with an unreadable expression.
"You two eloped and got married… AND YOU DIDN'T INVITE ME!"
"Fuck." Thought Jaune. "I knew we should've gone as siblings."
Sorry for the long wait, I wanted to work on some other stories and forgot about this one.
And while I was in between stories, someone brought up the fact that some places have a law that if you stay with someone for a certain length of time, you're considered married, which I did not think of as it's not a thing where I live.
Thank you all for reading, and waiting, and I hope you enjoyed.