NOTE (Feb. 19, 2018): Brace yourselves for Jaune's rambling.

The peaceful solitude afforded by the privatized cocktail lounge of the Lucky Thirty-Eight was interrupted by the ding of the elevator and footfalls pacing unevenly over the carpets.

"Six! There you are! I really needed to talk to you about something...important."

"Hnn...?" The Courier lifted his head off the bar to glare at the blurry son of a bitch who was ruining his quality drinking time.

Jaune slid onto the stool next to him, shuffling and fidgeting like a drenched kitten. "Good to see you still up. You see, I'm in a bit of a...predicament. Or a bind. I don't know. I'm stuck in a pickle is what I'm trying to say."

Six blinked, trying so hard to forget the boy's presence and register his every word at the same time. As much as he wanted to, he was too plastered to even bother shooing him away.

"You know...I think you know. It might be pretty obvious, heh, given your experience in this stuff. Right? Um..." The blond scratched the back of his head. "I guess you could say that I have a crush on Weiss."

Snowball? She giving you a hard-on? For some reason, he felt he should not be surprised by that.

"I've been trying to, you know, deepen our friendship since we first met. Well, back on Remnant, of course. We go way back. I mean, not way, way, way back but to the first day at Beacon. First day of classes and all. So...she's been, um, living up to her monicker, heh. You know... 'Ice Queen'... Um, I haven't given up. And I think she's been warming up to me recently. I think. I can't tell, honestly."

The Courier raised his brow, squinting his eyes at him as he half-heartedly tried to understand what he was saying. Even the words he heard in his messed-up brain came out slow and slurred. You want to fuck Snowball?

"But that's not the problem here." The boy was too finicky, laughing shakily and muttering phrases to himself. "I just want her to...be less cold, you know? I mean, is that so hard to ask from her? Ruby likes me. I mean, as a friend, of course! She's like a sister to me. A sister from another mother, yeah!"

You want to fuck your sister? What the fuck— Wait. Did the elevator ding again? Shit. I'm hearing things.

"Six, I want to get your opinion on this. It's not about Weiss—okay, so it is about Weiss—but on someone else too."

Weird. Could've sworn I saw Snowball walk in. How deep in the bottle am I? The Courier could barely tell. The throbbing in his temples concerned him more.

"You know Pyrrha, right? Of course, you do. You keep calling her Sparta. What does Sparta mean, anyway? Is it some kind of Wasteland compliment or something? Not that I think you're demeaning her but it would kind of suck if that was the case. I mean, she's family. And as the team leader of JNPR, I will not stand for any insult directed at my partner or any of my team members! Not that I think you're insulting them but, well, you're...uh...never mind."

So you want to fuck Sparta too? Six blinked, rubbing a sloppy hand over his pulsing forehead. Wait. I'm pretty damn sure I just saw Sparta over there next to Snowball. What's with that weird look on her face?

"I know I can be dense sometimes. Hell, I don't need Nora yelling in my ear or Ren saying something vague every now and then. I've got enough of that from my sisters. But I've noticed how, uh, weird Pyrrha's been acting around me, you know? Ah, who am I kidding... You've seen it. You walked in on it. And I reiterate that she initiated the kiss! I was just reacting to it."

The Courier groaned, his mounting annoyance directed more at his hangover than at the blurry shapes congregating at the far end of the bar. Ah, damn. Now I'm seeing Blondie and Hyper. Alcohol's getting to my brain. Maybe I should lay off the sauce a bit more.

"And...I sort of, well... Don't tell anybody about this, okay? But that kiss? Down in the mines? I sort of, kinda, really, really liked it. I never actually thought Pyrrha felt that way about me. It was shocking, to put it lightly. But it opened my eyes. Or, my eyes were open. Uh, what I meant to say was that...it got me thinking."

The veteran wastelander burped then slumped back into his arms, his bloodshot eyes dilating at group of girls idling awkwardly behind the bumbling teen beside him. Are they even real? They sure look fucking real.

"Now, I'm conflicted. I really, really want to open up with Weiss. I mean, she may not like me that way and I get that. I still want to be a better friend to her, you know? I'm pretty sure that underneath that prim and posh, there's a modest girl with a kind heart who's had to grow up the way others wanted her to, y'know?"

Is Snowball...crying? Nah, she's...she's rubbing her eyes or something. Definitely wiping her face. Right? I can't tell. What the fuck, man... Six blinked. Nope, she's just smiling. Has to be. Smiling sad? How the fuck do you smile while sad? Can I do that?

"At this point," Jaune continued, somewhat oblivious to those behind him. "I'm fine with being that dude friend who's just there to listen to all her woes and at least try to understand her problems. And, where we're from, guys like those are...they aren't around as much, I guess. I mean, you've got jerks who just want to get with someone because they're filthy rich or they've got connections and that stuff..."

The Courier noticed movement and nearly drew his revolver except for the fact that both his hands were on the bar holding an empty shot glass and an empty bottle of whiskey. Oh, it's just Sparta popping open a cold one.

Jaune exhaled while staring dreamily at the Mojave skyline. "If Weiss sees me as that guy then...I don't blame her. I guess it's in the Arc family bloodline to sacrifice our own happiness for that of others. But I just want her to know that...I'll be here for her. As a friend. Because I really do care...y'know?"

Six angled his head only to feel that needling pain in the back of his head suddenly spear right through the side of his brain. Shit! Goddamn migraines. Where's my aspirin? Now the girls were looking confused...or conflicted...or convoluted. Something along those lines. Defeintley real, though. Yeah. They look really real.

The blond shrugged at himself. "And then...there was that thing in the mines, y'know. After what happened...I feel like I've been neglecting someone so close to me this whole time."

Close your mouth, kid, I can smell your breath. Or is that me?

Jaune dropped his head into his hands, moaning. "I'm an idiot. I'm such an idiot! How did I not see the signs? Weiss kept shooting me down but Pyrrha was there right beside me, giving me all her support...even though it hurt her."

Hurt her? You popped her cherry? Shit, already? I mean, I thought that already broke from them jumping around in their magic-acrobatic mumbo-jumbo... Wait. Whose cherry? This was getting even more confusing and all this thinking was compounding the stressed neurons in the Courier's drunken brain.

"This whole time, Pyrrha was...I mean...I'm her partner. We're partners! Was I that dense? Oh man, I feel like a big jerk. To be honest with you, Six, I kinda-sorta-maybe really like Pyrrha, too. She's...I think she's actually been more than just a friend to me for the past couple months." Knight-boy flashed this look of momentary panic as if he had reached some sort of traumatic epiphany. "Six, I just realized... I think I might feel the same way towards Pyrrha. Aw, crap. I screwed up! I'm screwing up!"

What the flying fuck are you going on about now, son? All Six could piece together from the poor kid's rambling was Snowball, yadda-yadda, Sparta, yadda-yadda, I like them, yadda-yadda...

"I'm stuck. Weiss has been, well, more open recently and that's, like, a major milestone! But I just can't...go on knowing that I'm ripping apart someone else's heart." A sigh. "Ugh. That last line was cheesy. You know what I mean, right, Six?"

The Courier reached for another bottle across the bar. Need a refill.

"I mean...don't you think? What do you think? Should I keep trying for Weiss or should I maybe let Pyrrha speak her mind? You know, clear the air."

Six popped off the cork and poured himself another full glass, downing it, burping, grunting, then finally slurring, "Snowball and Sparta, right?"

Jaune probably thought he had been paying attention more than he actually was because his eyes lit up and his hands were flying everywhere. The poor kid was on the verge of a panic attack. "I know, right!? Should I go for Weiss or answer Pyrrha? Weiss or Pyrrha? I mean, oh no...I... Weiss or Pyrrha!?"

He stared at him from his spot on the bar, his cracked eyes boring deep holes into the poor kid's ever-loving soul. With a long sigh, he clapped his hand on his shoulder. "Boy..."

Jaune stilled as eyes went wide with anticipation. Along with the four girls silently watching them with rapt attention a couple stools back.

"... I am too old for that shit."

With that, the Courier slid the blond Huntsman-in-training an unused shot glass and the uncorked bottle of vodka before stumbling to the elevator, passing by a conflicted Weiss, a blushing Pyrrha, a grinning Yang, and an awkward Ruby.

"Move, kids."

"Kids?" Horrified, Jaune spun on his stool and froze up. "You were there the whole time!?"

"Wow, Jaune," whistled Yang. "Didn't know you were having a relationship crisis."

Things loudly escalated from there. Six pressed himself against the wall until the elevator doors closed, shutting out the noise. Is it hormone season for these kids? What the hell. They're going to be humping each other soon and I'm not in the mood to deal with that crap. Ugh. I need an aspirin or seven right about now. He hoped they would not break anything up there. Or blow up the Lucky Thirty-Eight. Both were likely to happen.

Blake was the only occupant he found in the presidential suite, lounging on one of the sofas in the recreation room and reading some faded Old World history book that she found somewhere.

"Where's Shaolin and Pancake?"

"Went for a walk with Syrup."

Goddamn it. Six groaned as he sat back down across from her, his fingers crushing circles against his temples. His hangover seemed to have gotten a bit worse. Two ridiculously destructive teens walking a domesticated infant deathclaw in a public sidewalk on the Strip without (his) proper supervision was guaranteed to end in disaster. All it takes is one finicky son of a bitch to put one through that little fucker and Pancake's going to go berserk. Total costs are going to range in the tens of thousands—

"You don't have to worry about us so much," Cat-girl remarked.

The Courier raised his brow at her. "Come again?"

Without so much as taking her eyes off her reading material, she continued, "We're old enough to handle ourselves. You don't have to worry about finding us in a mass grave."

Sly cat. He chuckled and tilted his head at her; his amusement met her confusion. "You honestly think I'm that paranoid?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough judgment."

"... How bad is the Legion?"

Six sighed. Her book had been set aside for him to receive her full attention. "You already know."

"Slavery?"

He nodded. "Slavery. A despotic empire of pure misogyny where the word of a single man is held as divine and absolute."

"Oh."

He caught the twitch in the corner of her eye and held back a beguiled grin. Guess you don't have these types of folks back in Remnant, eh? "It's a fucking mockery of the real Romans but at least they try to behave like 'em, adopting all the good and the bad."

"What was good and what was bad?"

The Courier coughed out a bitter laugh. "You have security and order. At the cost of freedoms, science, and even fucking modern medicine. It's a civilization built on living backwards but it just so happened to work. And it worked well. At least, to those who don't end up as slaves."

Blake frowned. "How could all this exist in the first place?"

"Look around you and you'll see why." Six leaned back to catch a glimpse of the book she had been reading: A Concise History of the Roman Empire, Fourth Edition. How appropriate. "You're lucky you kids didn't get dropped in Arizona. Even with your Dust and Semblances, I doubt you could hold off the full tide of the Legion before they slap their collars on your necks and whip you into hauling their baggage train like starved brahmin. Because that's what women are to the Legion. Nothing more than something to scratch their dicks with."

Her fists were clenched and pale but her voice was calm and controlled. "You make them sound worse than what everyone else says."

"Yeah. Much worse than the White Fang."

Her eyes went wide over his knowing mug. She was already in front of his face, a full range of emotions flashing through her piercing gold irises. "How did you..."

The Courier was unfazed while he popped in two pills of aspirin. Gotcha, kitty. "You mumble in your sleep."

"I what?"

He pushed his finger onto her shoulder until she deflated back onto the couch. "Word of advice, kid: eat less before bedtime. The more you munch down, the more you talk over snoring."

Blake sunk into the sofa for the next five minutes. Her head dipped, her attention lost to the patterns of the carpet on the floor, her mind wandering back to memories she tried so hard to suppress.

In that time, Six had gone to the kitchen and whipped himself up a non-alcoholic beverage to help kill his hangover. He walked back into the recreation room and surprised her by sitting beside her..

"Adam Taurus," he said. "I take it he's a bull faunus."

Cat-girl was now glaring daggers. "He has a dominant bovine heritage."

So he is a bull. 'Taurus' pretty much gave that away. Six briefly reciprocated her hollow stare with his own. His brain was starting to hurt less, which was good. Should make more of these smoothies. Better stock up on banana yucca. "The way you talk about him in your sleep makes him the perfect poster boy for the Legion. Horns and all."

"Do you ever think about the people you killed?" she nearly flared.

So this is where we're going, now. "No."

That answer took her aback because he heard her neck crack when she snapped her head at him. "No?"

"No."

Silence. Then a more aggressive inquiry. "Have you ever considered that these people...have others who cared about them?"

"Yes," he deadpanned.

She blinked. "Then...why...?"

"Blake." Six put down his glass on the table and faced her completely. "Don't be like me. Please. I don't know what this White Fang business is really all about but from what I've been picking up... You've left behind a world of hurt to build a world of healing. I mean, that's what you hunting-folk do, don't you? That's what they teach on Remnant, right? Serve and protect and all that?"

Her face was as solid as stone.

"Well, let me fill you in. You're not on Remnant now. I know you miss it; homesick folks tend to walk and talk in their sleep...well, as far as I've seen, anyway." He tapped her shoulder. "You're playing by the Wasteland's terms now. There's neither time nor room for sentimentality out here in the Mojave or much less anywhere else on this godforsaken rock."

Her voice was soft. "Do you ever feel guilty?"

He was quiet for a long moment but his weighted pupils studied every detail of her expression. "Sometimes."

"Is that why you drink?"

"I have my reasons."

"You know, you have a reputation. It's hard to ignore. I mean...I can understand why you're not proud of some of the things you did. Or, what they say you did." Blake studied him only to find a blank expression. "I'm sorry if I..."

The Courier tittered. "It's fine, Blake." He raised his brow at her when he felt her hand rest over his palm. "I won't blame you for being curious."

"You had a job to do," she croaked.

He nodded. "And we did it."

Blake glanced up at him. "We?"

Six was silent. His bloodshot eyes bore deep into her for a half-minute before tearing away to the smoothie on the table. "What's done is done. Long since moved on to...heh, well, bigger and better things as they say."

"... Six... Thank you for trusting us."

"... You're welcome."

"So...how's that hangover?"

The Courier leaned against the cushion. "I thought you and Shaolin were the quiet ones. You've been very talkative today, you know that?"

"This is just one of those rare instances..." Blake brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Hey, we really appreciate all that you're doing for us. Ruby shows it. She looks up to you. And Jaune, he's also taking after you."

Well, I'm fucking flattered. He smirked. "So they'll be drinking with me in a couple weeks, eh?"

Cat-girl chortled softly. "We'll rein them in. You worry about Yang trying to outdrink you again. You two brawling is kinda stressful."

Hell, I can't believe I even agreed to be her punching bag in the first place. "She breaks my chin, I'll break her forearm." And no amount of Aura is going to heal all those broken bones.

"Duly noted."

He nudged his thumb to the dining area. "You want a smoothie?"

"No thanks," she answered with a bright and relieved smile.

ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: February 14, 2018

LAST EDITED: June 26, 2022

INITIALLY UPLOADED: February 19, 2018

NOTE (Feb. 19, 2018): So...I got carried away and ended up with this. Hope you guys find it suitable (or at least entertaining) while I work on the next chapters. I dunno.