The ride back to the Schnee Estate was peaceful.
"I've told father that we have… an additional guest," Weiss spoke slowly. "But for propriety's sake, I have made arrangements for you to have separate rooms."
"That's… that's fine."
"I told Yang the good news. She's very happy for you, Blake. But she's going to be hurt that you didn't confide in her. Very hurt. More than I was. And it's going to be hard to see her… her Partner in a new relationship where it used to be just the two of you. Do you understand?"
Blakes ears drooped. "Yeah. I- I do." She looked at Hegsih, "She was there for me, when we faced Adam, when we put down Cinder. It was always the two of us after the first month of Beacon Academy. She was one of the few people who got me, before Jaune got under my skin."
The blond man laughed. "Yeah, well you made it pretty easy to find your buttons, and pressing them…hooboy."
Blake rolled her eyes and pretended to examine her fingernails, suddenly longer. Hegsih felt a flush of warmth as he imagined them raking his back. Again. She saw him looking and blushed.
"Easy there kids. Get a room."
Weiss touched her arm. "Blake, seriously, take it easy on Yang for a while. She's going to need time to find her footing with this new situation."
When they reached the estate, The butler Klien and Yang were waiting for them at the landing pad.
"Blakey! Yang cried. Blake smiled broadly and rushed to her best friend. Yang's face was tear-streaked. "I'm so so happy for you!" Her face went serious. "But I'm going to kick your ass, you know that right?"
"I know, I know. I'm so sorry, Yang. I-"
"Aw give it a rest or we'll drown everybody with the waterworks. And is this the lucky guy?" She sized him up. "Doesn't look like much of a fighter. Must have other assets. Ow! What?! I was talking about brains ya doofus. Mommm kitty scratched me!" Hegsih found himself laughing along. He had the feeling the blond bombshell, and from what Blake said she really could practically explode on you when she was pissed, was… was trying too hard? Maybe. And maybe I'm just paranoid about coming between two friends.
He hung back, on purpose, to let them have their moment, before Yang stepped up to him with her hand out. He reciprocated slowly, expecting, frankly, her to crush it based on the stories he'd heard. Instead he found a gentle, relaxed grip. Her eyes were kind with a sort of wistfulness. "It's nice to meat you, Blake's boyfriend."
"You too Blake's bestie. She couldn't stop talking about you."
"Ah. Yah. She' talks too much."
"Do not!"
"Anyway, I'm happy for her. I hope I can find someone, some day, that looks at me like she looks at a tuna sandwich."
"Dammit Yang!"
"It's true and you know it!"
Laughing, she let go and the group headed for the house.
The next few weeks were a whirlwind.
Hegsih's days were filled with interviews with Winter and a few handpicked Atlas experts. Frankly, he suspected that they would have locked him up and interrogated him 24-7, if not for Jaune and Weiss. They clearly had influence on Winter and General Ironwood. More than he felt was explained by family ties or just being Huntsmen.
Regardless, it was fascinating. It was overwhelming. It was exhausting. At first, they had grilled him mercilessly, and had been very reticent to answer any of his questions. But as the days went on, they began to show him, if not super secret cutting edge technology, at least the stuff that was publicly available. He oohed and ahhed and asked questions.
Some of his questions shocked them by their ignorance or naivety.
Some of his questions shocked them into shifting their thinking.
He could tell when that happened. For the former, they would get quiet, and then someone would laugh, and start to explain why something worked the way it did ELI5. But the latter, those made him feel like he was actually contributing. There would be that same silence, and then one of them would ask him, very calmly, to repeat the question. And they would look at each other, and then one of them would begin typing furiously in their Scroll, walking away muttering, while the rest continued the conversation.
Winter began to act less like an escort, and more like a compatriot too. That felt good.
The evenings were wonderful. He spent time talking to Weiss and Yang. He even hit up Klien a few times. The man wasn't nearly as stuffy as he first appeared. He tried to talk to Whitley a few times, but the young man seemed to have a five inch wide stick up his ass. Hegs shrugged after his third attempt and let it lie.
He avoided Jacques Schnee the few times the man was at home.
Then there was the Matriarch, Mrs. Willow Schnee. Yee Gods. That woman was a wreck. He'd never seen her without a drink in her hand, and she seemed to look right past him the few times he'd tried to make her acquaintance. He could tell it hurt Weiss too.
"She's a lost cause, kiddo." Jaune had told him. "Locked in her own misery and insulated from the rest of the world through bottle-glass." I've been there too. I know.
"Don't you guys have AA?"
"AA?"
"Alcoholics Anonymous. Twelve steps? First step is admitting you have a problem?"
Jaune shook his head. "See, there's the issue. That first step. She doesn't think she has a problem. She thinks she is a problem."
He filed that away too.
He filed a lot away.
Finally, there was Yang and Blake. The two of them together were like… like. Gah.. black and yellow, they get behind a fellow. No seriously, watching them spar against each other was incredible. They were fast, and the strikes would have put down any mere mortal like… well like him. But watching them spar against another pair, working as a team?
It was like watching a world-class MMA fighter, hopped up on five kinds of performance enhancing drugs, paired up with an Olympic gymnast with a fucking gun / sword / whip thing. And the two of them had the choreography and coordination of a ballet on meth. At Circ du Soliel.
Sometimes the sparring team were some of the so-called Ace Operatives. Basically Atlas' version of Huntsmen, but more militarized. That was a show. And the strikes... Lord, he wouldn't have lasted 15 seconds. The first hit and he'd be missing an arm, or a leg. Or a head. Maybe a torso.
But usually, the sparring partners were Weiss and Jaune. And that was on a whole other level. They knew each other. It was like a well-oiled machine, even in opposition. They knew each other so well, that they didn't hold back, not that he could see. Weiss was an artist, and what she did was paint a portrait of destruction, of forces and counterforces.
Jaune, on the other hand, he fought fucking dirty. He wasn't huge. He didn't have Weiss's abilities, or Yang's striking power, or even Blake's ability to just not be where your hit landed while she nailed you in the back. No, what he had was versatility and sheer bastardization. Everything was a weapon. Everything was an edge. You couldn't let your guard down for a second around him during sparring. I never. Ever. Ever want to actually piss that man off. He realized that what he'd thought was anger before was nothing, because, frankly, he was still breathing.
Blake though. Blake took his breath away. He knew that body, and he watched it flip, and twist, and bounce off the landscape, off opponents, off teammates like some sort of insane murderous happy fun ball. Amber eyes glowed with delight as she fired, slashed, or grappled her way through the opposing team.
It was damn hot.
And more than one evening, he told her so, and reaped the benefits.
True to their promise regarding Yang, they took it easy about Hegsih monopolizing Blake's time and attention, especially at first. More than one night, Blake and he slept in separate beds, in separate rooms. After the first few days, they began sneaking to his room for a quick bout of lovemaking. They revered those hours alone, and he felt like… like this was the real deal. It wasn't perfect. Sleeping single was lonely, but it was enough. And it was so that Yang, Blake's bestie, would see that he wasn't trying to take away her close relationship with her partner.
So why was it that he felt like, sometimes before she noticed him looking, that he'd caught Yang looking like her puppy had gotten run over by a car?