One week later, Yang bites into her vanilla ice-cream and grins, waiting. The reaction is immediate.

"Ugh, I hate when you do that. Can't you eat ice-cream like a normal person?" Weiss complains, shifting away from Yang. She's wearing a spotless white swimsuit, and using an old issue of Patch Magazine as a makeshift fan.

Yang's grin widens. "Are you saying you want to see me use my tongue?"

Weiss glares. "I've only been here for two days, and you're already singlehandedly making me regret this visit." Yang chuckles in response, good-natured. There's nothing she loves more than riling up Weiss. Mostly because it's so easy, but also because Weiss always gives as good as she gets, and Yang enjoys the familiar banter. She'd missed having her around, so she's thrilled that Weiss decided to come spend the last week of August with them, prestigious internship be damned.

The midday sun beats down on the beach, unforgiving. The air is hot and humid - clouds amass, low and heavy, where the blue of the ocean melts into sky. Yang sits besides Weiss on her towel, somewhat sheltered from the burning sunlight by the beach umbrella. A dozen or so feet in front of them, Ruby and Blake are engrossed in a highly competitive game involving Summer's old surfboard and, as far as Yang can tell, ingesting as much sea water as humanly possible.

She takes another bite of ice-cream, ignoring Weiss's groan of disgust, and watches with interest as Ruby manages to stand on top of the board for approximately five seconds before falling backward. Blake catches the surfboard and hauls herself on top of it, waiting for the next wave.

"Show her who's boss, Blake!" Weiss yells from behind her fancy silver-rimmed sunglasses.

Yang raises an eyebrow, surprised. "Wow," she says, low and only a little bit teasing. "You're cheering for Blake against Ruby?"

Weiss shrugs. "You like her," Yang comments, genuinely excited. "You've never liked any of the girls I was into before."

"First of all, that's simply not true, and second of all, you say that as if there's been thousands of them. You've liked a grand total of three girls, and honestly, counting Pyrrha is generous - we've all had a crush on her at some point."

"Still," Yang says with an obnoxious smirk, pressing a palm against her chest in a dramatic show of relief. "She approves!"

Weiss snorts - a very undignified, un-Weiss-like sound. "Well, now I feel like I'm the father in a historical romance and I finally gave you permission to propose."

"Does that make Blake your daughter in this scenario?" Yang says, before leaning toward Weiss conspiratorially. "Unfortunately, she already calls me daddy…"

She can't even finish her joke before Weiss whacks Patch Magazine right in her face. "I hate you and I hate this."

Yang bursts out laughing, so hard she almost drops her ice-cream. So fucking easy. She leans back on her elbows. "Anyway, I'm glad you like her," she tells Weiss, still chuckling, but no longer mocking.

"I do," Weiss says, sincere, her eyes soft as she watches Blake and Ruby playing in the waves. "She's great." She pauses, and her face grows serious. "I still can't believe you two went through that nightmare."

Yang's stomach tightens, like it always does when she remembers the fight on top of the cliff, the bitter taste of fear in her mouth, the pain flaring in her arm, the knife in Adam's hand. "Yeah, me neither. I was so scared, Weiss," she whispers, voice small. "Like I've never been scared before." Melted ice-cream drips on her fingers, cold and sticky, but she doesn't move.

Weiss turns towards her, blue eyes piercing. "But you're okay now, right?"

"Yeah," Yang says. It comes out quiet, subdued almost, and Weiss frowns, mouth twitching in skepticism. Yang, touched by the concern, sits up and puts a hand on Weiss's shoulder. "I promise, I'm fine. It was horrible, and I'll never forget that night, but I… we made it through, you know. We were there for each other."

Warmth blooms between her ribs, in her lungs, growing in her chest like late-summer blossoms ; loving Blake reminds her of the brightest sunflowers, with their petals of fire around a darker, softer center, both fierce and tender.

Her eyes find Blake again, and her lips curl into a smile, automatically. She's beautiful, even with her wet hair sticking to her skin and her face comically drawn in concentration as she fights Ruby for control of the surfboard. She's beautiful, blindingly so.

Yang hears a deep sigh to her right. "If you're gonna be making lovesick puppy eyes at her for the remaining of our time here, I'm booking a flight back to Atlas immediately," Weiss grumbles, with absolutely no bite, and even the hint of a smile.

"No, you're not," Yang retorts, fondly. "You love it here."

Weiss hums, which is as much confirmation as Yang is ever gonna get. She settles back on her elbows, and brings her melting ice-cream to her mouth.

The summer storm takes them all by surprise, bursting with sudden and violent force above the beach, sheets of rain obscuring the horizon. The four of them rush back home, feet sinking in the wet sand, giggling and soaked and shivering, and then bicker over who gets to shower first.

(Weiss wins, but only because she buys Ruby and Blake's surrender in exchange for doing their chores. Yang goes last, because she really is too damn nice for her own good.)

An hour or so later, Yang sits cross-legged on the couch, watching as rain batters the windows of the living-room in a steady, implacable assault. Outside, the storm is raging ; violent winds toy with the trees, flowers crumple to the ground under the weight of falling water, and the occasional spark lights up the dark sky.

But inside the house, it's dry and warm and safe, dimly lit and quiet. Yang can hear muffled noises from the kitchen - people talking, laughter, the clanking of pots and pans, Zwei barking - but the door is closed, and everything sounds far-away, the way the world fades and becomes dreamlike when you put your head underwater.

Blake twitches, and her hair tickles Yang's bare thigh. She's sound asleep, her head on Yang's lap, an open book resting on her chest, hands crossed over the spine. She looks peaceful. Yang traces the bridge of her nose with one finger, very softly, and marvels at all the details she still has to memorize about Blake's face - the way her lips part, almost imperceptibly, when she sleeps, showing a flash of white teeth, the little crease between her eyebrows, the length of her delicate, dark lashes, like butterfly wings against her skin.

Her own book lies forgotten on the floor. She's so focused on Blake, she doesn't even notice that someone else is in the room, until Summer plops down on the couch armrest next to her.

Yang acknowledges her with a smile, and presses her index to her lips. Summer nods. She combs careful fingers through Yang's hair, still a little damp from the shower, and begins braiding it, like she's been doing since Yang was a little girl. Yang closes her eyes and lets herself relax into the hands of her mother.

They sit in silence for a bit, with the sound of rain and thunder, and the voices of people they love seeping through the kitchen door.

"You two have grown close," Summer whispers eventually, when she's done with the first braid. She starts another one, and Yang smiles, glancing down at Blake's face.

"Yeah, we have. I think… I think we're dating, actually."

Summer hums. Her fingers still work through Yang's hair, quick but gentle, never pulling too hard, never hurting her. "You know, I haven't had a chance to tell you, but I am so proud of you, Yang. What you've done to help her, it was really brave. Foolish, for sure…"And here she pauses, and tugs lightly at the half-finished braid, but Yang knows the gesture is meant to tease rather than blame. "But so, so, brave. You have all of Raven's stubbornness and loyalty, and none of her selfishness."

The compliment makes Yang's heart feel too big for her ribcage. She leans a little into Summer's side. "I had good role models."

Summer drops a kiss on top of her head, and resumes her work. "Speaking of Raven. Your dad's been in contact with her. You tell us when you're ready, okay?"

"I will," Yang says, though her voice sounds a bit strangled. It's still not easy, talking about Raven with her parents - she suspects it might never be. It's a sore subject for all of them. But she knows something is mending inside of her, a wound that's been festering for 18 years, and is only now starting to heal. And there is the comforting weight of Blake's head on her thighs, the silky softness of her hair, the warmth of her - there's Blake, real and here, Blake who was at her side through this whole ordeal with Raven and who'll still be at her side for the next.

Summer finishes the second braid, and gets up. "Weiss and Ruby are helping your dad with cooking, dinner should be ready in about half an hour. Though there's no telling if it'll actually be edible. I'll let you wake up your sleeping beauty, alright?"

One last smile, and Summer is gone. Yang glances back down at her lap, and brushes a strand of hair from Blake's face.

"I know you're awake," she says, amused.

Blake's mouth twists into a smile, but her eyes stay firmly shut. "How do you know?"

"When you're really asleep, you snore like a ninety-year old sailor."

Blake scrunches up her nose, and opens her eyes to glare. "This is slander. I've been told I'm like, an angel, when I sleep."

Yang touches Blake's cheekbone with the tip of her fingers. "You are," she agrees softly, suddenly unable to keep the joke going.

Blake stares at her, so intensely Yang's breath catches in her throat, and takes Yang's fingers in her hand, holding them so that Yang's cupping her cheek. They look at each other for a while, silently - it's still dark outside, but it feels like there's enough fire inside Yang's chest to light up the whole room, the whole island, the whole world.

Blake licks her lips, and her smile turns a little smug. "So I hear we're dating?"

Yang blushes instantly. "I mean, I…" she stutters. "It feels like we are, right?"

Blake's laughter echoes in the quiet room. She grabs the collar of Yang's shirt and pulls her down into a kiss, and Yang kisses her back, until the thumping of her heart gets so loud it drowns out the thunder of the storm.

Yang wakes up with the sun, and, just like she did for months at the start of the summer, her first reaction is to check her texts. There's only one.

"On our way. Be there around 1pm."

She puts her phone back down on the nightstand, smiling. Blake's still asleep, snuggling her pillow, bedsheets pooling around her hips. Yang resists the urge to kiss her naked shoulder and silently slips off the bed, careful not to wake her. She pads barefoot out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

When she comes back carrying a heavy tray, Blake is sitting up against the headboard, stretching her arms lazily, yawning. The soft morning sunlight paints her skin a glittering brown, and Yang stills in the doorway, starstruck, blinking at the sight of her - lithe and still lost in the haze of waking up, dark wisps of hair curling at her temples. She follows the elegant line of her neck to her lips and then down again, glancing at the jut of her collarbones, stopping at the enticing bare skin of her stomach peeking below her pajama shirt.

Blake rubs her eyes, and finally notices her. "Yang? What are you doing?"

Yang makes her way to the bed, puts the tray down carefully on Blake's lap. "Happy birthday, babe."

She's prepared breakfast for her: black tea with a tiny jug of cream, toast with raspberry jam and soft butter, a blueberry muffin, still warm from the oven. Blake takes it all in with a small, surprised smile, until her eyes fall on the card propped against the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and she audibly groans.

The card is completely blank but for the shaky drawing of something round and vaguely fruit-like, and the words "Orange you glad it's your birthday!" printed above. Yang's signature, and a tiny heart, complete the masterpiece.

"It's the worst birthday card I've ever received," Blake says, biting her lower lip like she's trying not to laugh.

Yang opens her mouth in fake outrage. "Hey now, I spent like, three minutes on this. Show some appreciation!" Blake snorts, and relocates the tray to her nightstand so she can pull Yang closer and kiss her.

"I had no idea I was dating such a talented artist," she whispers, teasingly, against Yang's mouth.

"Bitch."

Blake laughs, and kisses Yang's cheek. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, your real gift hasn't arrived."

"What is it?"

"Can't tell you, it's a surprise."

Blake pouts, but even her wide, pleading eyes aren't enough to sway Yang. Instead, she chuckles, and brings one of Blake's hands to her mouth, presses her lips against Blake's knuckles. "Sorry, no can do. I promise it's worth it, though."

"Fine," Blake huffs, but there's a smile tugging at her lips, so Yang knows she's not actually annoyed. Then her smile grows a little wicked. "Make it up to me?"

Yang grins. She turns the hand she's still holding around, so she can kiss the inside of Blake's wrist, featherlight. Blake inhales sharply. "That I can do, baby." She straddles Blake's lap, but doesn't let go of her hand, trailing kisses up the curve of her arm to the shoulder, to the soft skin of her neck, and then down again, her tongue following the fragile line of Blake's collarbone. Blake twitches underneath her, hips bucking when Yang sinks her teeth right above her breast, and her free hand finds Yang's waist, nails digging into the skin.

"Yang," Blake exhales. Yang looks up and finds Blake's eyes darkened with desire, and arousal jolts in her lower stomach, electric and powerful.

"Yeah?" Yang says. Her mouth is dry.

Blake twists her hand free, and catches Yang's wrist, and, without breaking eye contact, guides Yang's hand just below the waistband of her sleep shorts. "Make me feel good."

Yang drags her fingers down, until she finds Blake wet and ready, and she smiles. "Your wish is my command."

They spend the morning in bed, sharing Blake's breakfast and laughing at stupid videos on Yang's laptop, until lunchtime. If Blake notices Yang checking her phone constantly, she doesn't mention it, and she doesn't protest either when, after lunch, Yang leads her out of the house just as a black car pulls into the driveway.

The doors open, and two people come out - a tall, burly man, sporting an imposing black beard and kind brown eyes, and a much smaller woman, with curly dark hair and golden earrings. Ghira and Kali Belladonna, right on time.

Blake gasps, taking a step back, eyes widening in shock. "Mom? Dad? What… what are you doing here?"

They both stop in their tracks, looking at the daughter they haven't seen in a year, emotion written all over their faces. Kali clasps her hands in front of her chest, Ghira wipes his eyes, and Blake stands, frozen, besides Yang.

Yang rests a hand on Blake's lower back. "Happy birthday," she murmurs. Blake turns toward her, slowly. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears, and, for a terrifying moment, Yang is afraid she's made a mistake. But then Blake smiles, shaking her head incredulously. "You did this?" she whispers. Yang nods.

Blake cups Yang's cheek, devastatingly tender, before turning towards her parents, who are still waiting for her by the car. Yang pushes her, gently, towards them. "Go."

And Blake runs. Kali opens her arms, and the three of them fall in a tight embrace, talking all at once, laughter mixed with tears. Yang averts her eyes, staring at the freshly-cut grass of the lawn and feeling unexpectedly emotional. This isn't about her - she knows - and yet…

And yet she started the summer desperately searching for her estranged mother, and ended it bringing their estranged daughter back to Blake's parents. The irony isn't lost on her.

A familiar calloused hand squeezes her shoulder, and she turns to find her father at her side. "You did good, kiddo." Yang smiles at him, grateful. Without Tai and Summer's help, she wouldn't have been able to pull the surprise visit off, but she appreciates that they never took over, that they let her do things her way, from contacting Ghira and Kali to making hotel reservations for them, at Patch's tiny inn.

It dawns on her, strangely, as her father stands beside her, that she's as tall as him, and nearly as broad-shouldered. When she was a kid, he looked so big, stocky and strong, but their eyes are at the same level now, and her arms aren't much smaller than his. There's a dizzying second where she looks at him and sees herself so clearly - easy smile, ocean-bleached blond hair, tanned and freckled - and she grabs his hand, squeezes it back.

Then Tai ruins the moment by roughly ruffling her hair. She bats his hand away, scowling. "Jerk," she mutters under her breath. He laughs, and steps aside as Summer, Weiss and Ruby join them in the front yard.

The Belladonna separate, and Blake, rosy-cheeked, introduces her parents to everyone. Ghira and Kali both hug Yang and thank her so profusely she turns bashful.

"We were so convinced Blake didn't want to see us, we never would have come without your message," Kali murmurs in her ear, too low for anyone else to catch. "Thank you, Yang."

"It was such a thoughtful idea to invite us for Blake's birthday," Ghira adds, louder, with a warm smile.

Yang shrugs, flustered. "Glad it all worked out!"

"That's what I still don't understand," Blake says, with the face of someone who hasn't quite processed everything yet. "How did you get here so fast?"

"Well, we knew we couldn't do the regular trip by boat if we wanted to make it in time for your birthday," Kali explains, "so we arranged the use of a private jet, from a nearby military ship. That way, it took us half the usual time to get to Vale."

"Being the Chief of Menagerie has its perks," Ghira laughs.

"Clearly," Summer says, looking impressed. "Come on, come inside, have a drink and sit down, and you can tell us all about your trip. Ruby, Weiss, go get the lemonade from the kitchen, will you?"

Everyone starts making their way inside the house, but Yang grabs Blake's wrist and waits till they're the only ones left.

"Your dad is the Chief of Menagerie?" she whispers, incredulously. "How come you never told me you were basically royalty?"

"I'm not," Blake says, narrowing her eyes, "and I didn't tell you because I knew you'd have way too much fun with this information."

"I can't believe I'm dating a princess," Yang continues, grinning widely, happily proving her right.

"Yang."

"I can't believe I'm fucking a princess…"

Blake takes one step closer, standing on her tiptoes so she can stare straight into Yang's eyes. (Which is kind of intimidating but also weirdly adorable?) "Yang," she repeats, "if you want to keep fucking me, as you put it, I suggest you stop talking right now."

Yang leans forward, bringing their faces even closer, and grabs Blake's jaw, gently holding her in place. "You're cute when you're bossy," she murmurs, low. Blake's cheeks darken. Abruptly, Yang becomes aware of the fact that their first kiss took place only a few feet away from where they're standing now. She remembers how Blake kissed her first that night ; she remembers the salt on their lips, on their skin, and how it felt to pin Blake against the wall. Her thoughts must show on her face, somehow, because Blake swallows, hard, and Yang feels the muscle of her jaw clenching against her fingers.

But now isn't the right time for this. So she lets go of Blake, and drops a quick kiss on her nose, and smiles. "Come on, Your Majesty, let's get inside. Your parents are waiting."

Blake rolls her eyes, but she takes Yang's hand in her own, and leads her inside the house.

Most of the afternoon is spent in easy conversation with Blake's parents, who seem like great people and get along well with all of Yang's family. Kali and Weiss especially seem to share a similar penchant for sarcasm. Oscar arrives a few hours later, and then Qrow, and once everyone is here, it's time to start the birthday party preparations.

The roles have been agreed upon in advance, so it all goes smoothly. Tai is setting up the barbecue grill while Qrow and Oscar help Summer finish up in the kitchen. Ruby and Kali put up the fairy lights in the cherry tree ; Weiss takes over the flower decorations. That leaves Yang and Ghira the task of carrying the heavy outdoor tables from the shed to the backyard, and enough chairs for everyone.

And Blake… Well, Blake keeps trying to help, to no avail.

"Sweetie, it's your birthday, just sit down and relax," Kali says, eventually. Blake flops down on a garden chair, resigned. Yang wipes sweat from her forehead with the front of her shirt, and doesn't miss the way Blake's eyes drift to her bare stomach. She fills a glass of water, and brings it over.

"Here, you look thirsty," she teases, low and full of intent. Blake sticks her tongue out, but she takes the water. Yang leans in. "Your mom is right, it's your birthday. Sit and enjoy the show."

She winks as she goes back to putting the tables together, and she can feel Blake's gaze on her until they sit down to eat.

The birthday dinner is loud and chaotic and fun, filled with laughter and stories, champagne and fresh cherries, grilled fish and vegetables, and a huge chocolate cake for dessert. Blake sits in the middle, between her dad and Ruby, and Yang sits across from her. Blake's cheeks are pink with joy, her eyes bright, she laughs and talks and laughs and Yang barely touches her food, unwilling to take her eyes of off Blake's happiness.

Then they all sing Happy Birthday, in a joyous cacophony, while Blake blows her candles out. Amid cheers and applause, she looks across the table, finds Yang's eyes, and mouths a quiet thank you.

The sun has set when they're done with dinner, and it's a perfect summer night: the ocean breeze makes the heat pleasant, the sky is clear enough to see the myriad of stars blinking far above them, crickets and nocturnal birds fill the garden with familiar sounds. Tai has brought out some very strong peach liquor, and the older adults are sharing a drink as they talk quietly, sitting around the table. Ruby disappears at one point, and comes back with loaded water guns - she soon drafts Oscar and Weiss in a fierce, merciless fight in the front yard. Blake looks at Yang, gestures with her head toward the shed, waits. Yang nods. They both leave the table discreetly.

Inside the shed, Blake doesn't say anything, just pushes Yang against the workbench and kisses her, fingers pulling at her hair. Yang rests a hand on the curve of Blake's neck, and lets herself be devoured. She tastes champagne and chocolate on Blake's tongue, and swallows Blake's laughter in her mouth. She reads the words neither of them have said yet in the softness of Blake's hand on her back, in the press of Blake's hipbone against hers, in the rapid staccato of Blake's pulse under her thumb, in…

A sudden spurt of cold water hits them both right in the face.

They jump away from each other, sputtering. Yang actually squeals, embarrassingly.

Standing in the shed entryway, Ruby does a little curtsy, and waves her giant red water gun at the two of them with a delighted grin. A few steps behind her, Oscar looks mortified, but Weiss just shrugs. "Things were getting heated in here," she says, absently twirling her own weapon around her finger, "and we thought you guys would appreciate the chance to cool down."

Blake and Yang look at each other. "What do you think?" Yang asks, not bothering to talk quietly. "Wanna kick their asses together?"

"I think this declaration of war cannot go unpunished," Blake answers with all the seriousness she can muster, eyes glinting in the dark shed. Ruby giggles, obviously pleased with the results of her sneak attack. Oscar slowly backs away when Yang makes a show of cracking her knuckles.

Weiss rolls her eyes. "You guys are outnumbered, and outgunned. There's no way you can win this."

Blake smiles dangerously, showing her teeth, and there's something in the lilt of her lips that shoots sparks down Yang's spine. Oh, you guys don't stand a chance, she thinks, before Blake and her leap forward, perfectly in synch.

The water gun fight ends with Yang's genius - though controversial - use of the garden hose, Ruby, Weiss and Oscar thoroughly soaked through, and the sweetest victory kiss under the stars.

It's the last dawn of their summer break, and the sky is grey and pink, with streaks of pretty purple.

Yang sits on the cold sand. It's still dark, almost chilly, in the early morning. Blake nuzzles into her neck, pressed against her side for warmth, her arm snug around Yang's waist.

"This cloud looks like a howling wolf," she mumbles against Yang's skin, pointing at a white puffy cloud far above. Yang tilts her head, squinting.

"I don't see it. Looks like a cloud to me."

She feels more than she hears Blake's little exasperated puff of air. "This is what I get for dating an engineering major. No imagination whatsoever."

Yang laughs. "Sorry we can't all wax poetic about meteorological phenomena."

Blake bites her neck in retaliation, and Yang smacks the back of her thigh, and then they pause their play-fighting because the sun has appeared, rising above the dark ocean, and it's too beautiful a sight to miss.

Tomorrow, they'll be back at Beacon University, for the first day of their sophomore year. Tai will drop them off on campus, and they'll have a million things to figure out: classes and friends and all the usual administrative mess that comes with a new school year. They won't be roommates anymore - they're both getting a single room, and though Yang knows it's probably for the best now that Blake and her are officially dating, she's also a little sad that everything is changing.

Not that change isn't great. Blake's hand tightens around her waist, and Yang smiles. Yeah, change is wonderful. And kind of magical. But where there's change, there's nostalgia, too - endings always are bittersweet. The summer is almost gone, and Yang wants to say goodbye properly.

So, on their last morning in Patch, she drags Blake out of bed, and they ride her bike across the island until they reach Yang's favorite beach, where they wait together for the sun to rise. Just the two of them and the ocean. The air tastes of brine - a bird shrieks in the distance.

"Yang," Blake says quietly, her eyes on the horizon line.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Yang breathes in, and out, and the words nestle in her heart, tuck themselves inside her where they belong, both comfortable and excitingly new.

She rests her cheek on Blake's head, and closes her eyes, facing the new day.

"I love you too."