I'll be off 20th Dec and back 3rd Jan over Christmas. That means there will be one chapter of this on the 19th, and then not another until around mid-January.

Chapter 4

Roman was nothing if not a savvy gentleman thief, so while Neo was busy recovering from her malady thanks to the cocktail of medicine he'd fed her (Roman was considering naming it "The Volcano" for the effect it had on making her mouth froth up), he went about his business elsewhere. Namely, the business of making them some money.

Of course, the heat was on at the moment and going outside to rob a store would be a bad idea. It was flattering to have his face splashed everywhere, but that didn't make it easy to go out without being mobbed by his adoring fans. Such was the curse of being so famous. A heavy burden for sure. That didn't mean there wasn't multiple other revenue routes, however. The first of which was to boot up and spruce up those old fan sites of his with new artwork and links to his glorious escapades.

It turned out that a particularly daring and handsome and downright marvellous reporter had managed to snatch footage of him at his most heroic. It was, of course, himself, and an idea he'd snatched from an old comic book. He was a thief, after all, so stealing ideas from superhero comics was practically expected. Roman had long been of the opinion that if you wanted something doing properly, you had to do it yourself, which was why he'd coined the name of "Rowan Candle" as an online photographer. Lisa Lavender could usually be trusted to catch his best side, but not everyone had her artistic talents, and it wouldn't do for the newspapers to be running outdated or less-than-flattering scroll-captured footage of him. No, no, no. All the newspapers needed a nice and updated image of his glorious visage, and they weren't afraid to pay a photographer for licensing rights.

And, really, wasn't it only right that they pay him to license rights to his own face?

Goodness. He was practically selling those newspapers!

Pyrrha Nikos? Third time champion? Boooring! Never heard of her. Weiss Schnee? Overrated. Half her fame probably came from her name. Bah. No. Everyone was out buying Vale's favourite newspapers today because of "Vale's Number One Most Eligible Bachelor", as per the official ranking he'd posted online under several different pseudonyms.

Anyone who disagreed was clearly an idiot.

Either way, Roman hummed happily at the somewhat modest amount filling his bank account. It wasn't much (certainly not as much as it could have been had Neo not crashed their car from the bank – alas, but he was a forgiving soul) but it was enough to cover rent and to pay Junior back for the rather embarrassing capture of his mooks.

"And we're in the money!" he cheered. "Neo, we're—erk!"

Two small arms wrapped around his neck and yanked back in a way that instantly cut off his oxygen supply. Roman choked and gasped but managed to work his hips back to draw the diminutive girl's feet up off the floor. Without proper purchase he was able to swing her over and in front of him before he suffocated. The little minx was still a little cross-eyed from the drugs.

"I see you're feeling better but you really need to be more careful when you're hugging me. You almost strangled me there!" He gently batted away her hands as she tried to hug his neck yet again. "Yes. Yes. You love me. I know. You hold a special place in my heart as well, Neo."

The girl start pounding on his chest over his heart as if in agreement.

Really, for all her faults, she truly was adorable.

Even when she was kicking at his stomach.

"Enough of that. Look!"

He turned her around in his hands, holding her up against the computer screen as if he were a baboon holding a baby lion to a chorus of animals. Neo's dangling feet and arms swayed as he shook her like a doll.

"We have money!" he said, shaking her a little. You weren't supposed to shake babies but Neo was surely old enough for that to be safe. Also drugged up, and sick, but probably fine. Her head lolled about but he kept talking. "You see, even after your mistake in crashing the car—" He shifted his face away from her sudden elbow. Poor Neo was still embarrassed about her failure. "—yours truly has still managed to monetise our success. My old fan sites are filling up, and they're chock full of advertising."

He frowned. "Male enhancement pills and diet remedies, sure, and a lot of fake and spurious products, but I'm sure that's not a reflection on my fanbase." Surely not. His fans were intelligent, pretty young women. The companies advertising products on his sites must have just had bad market research. "Anyway, we have rent paid and I've even got enough to buy you some ice-cream!"

There was no reaction.

"Neo? Neo...?" He turned her around in his arms, but her head flopped back, cheeks red, eyes spacy, and a little drool running past her bottom lip. "Awww," he crooned, carrying her back to her bed. "You're all tuckered out."

Her leg kicked weakly at him.

"I know. I know. Let me tuck you into bed. Then I'll go pay Junior and start planning our next big heist." He had to fight her hands under the blankets. "You're excited, I know, but save some of that vim for the big show. I'm thinking we can hijack a Bullhead and fly over Vale for our escape. Let everyone see me. Us." He coughed. "I was, of course, using the royal me."

Neo whimpered.

Huh.

He hadn't known she had a fear of flying.

/-/

"I HAVE ARRIVED!"

Roman posed in the entranceway of the club, the doors flung wide open and the bright sunlight outside silhouetting him with his arms up in the air and his coat billowing behind him. It was a suitably victorious image, especially after his less-than-fashionable exit from the club the last time he'd been there.

"I can see that," growled Junior, from behind the bar. "Close the door. You're letting the warm air out. You got any idea how high my heating bill is to warm up a place this big?"

"Junior, Junior, Junior. Your heating bill will be the least of your concerns soon enough." Letting the doors slam shut behind him, Roman strolled – nay, he sauntered – his way to the bar, swinging his bowler cap on his finger in lieu of his cane. He really needed to find a new one. His hands were itching to play with it. "I, the most fabulous Roman Torchwick, have come to settle that little debt of mine."

Bowing before the stunned audience of Junior, Miltia and Melanie, he reached into his coat and drew out a thick wad of lien, then tossed it down onto the bar. He'd done so in just a way that it tumbled and spread over the counter, letting them see just how much it was.

Junior sighed and started collecting it. "You couldn't just have wired me a transfer? Now I'll have to take this to the bank to deposit it. And it's still a mess since you blew it up the other day."

"Nonsense. I'm settling a debt. This is a big moment." Roman slid a stool between the twins and sat, looping an arm around each of their shoulders. They rolled their eyes, used to it by now. "That requires a certain level of showmanship. You understand. Don't you, girls?"

"Oh, we get it," said Melanie. "After all, showmanship is all you've ever been."

Roman spluttered. "I—I assure you, I am all bite and no bark."

"Oh?" Miltia grinned and took his gloved hand down to her chest. Roman yanked it off quickly. "Doesn't feel like there's much bite."

"Ahem." Roman coughed into said fist. "I am a gentleman first and foremost, my dear. If you wish to have that kind of relationship with me, then you shall have to stand in line." He winked flirtatiously at her. "But I'll warn you it's a long one."

Miltia snorted. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"Who's in that line?" asked Melanie, leaning on his side. Ah, Melanie. Ever the nice twin.

"Why, only all the young and pretty girls of Vale who long for a quiet moment with such a tall, dark and handsome stranger. And all the housewives of Vale who watch in awe, daring to dream of a moonlight tryst with yours truly."

"What about that little minion of yours?" asked Junior.

That made Roman recoil. "Neo!? No, no, no. Our relationship is very different. And she's all sick at the moment, I'm afraid. Wanted to come, I'm sure." A little white lie there. Neo was a shut-in at the best of times. Girl would exist on TV and ice-cream if he let her. "Caught herself a little sniffle after driving our getaway vehicle off the bridge. After only a brief dip in the water, too. These youngsters aren't as hardy as we were at their age, Junior."

"Tell me about it," agreed the other man, leaning over the bar. "Half of the time my boys call off sick, I can't help but remember back in our day you'd have just stuffed yourself full of painkillers and come to work anyway."

Roman nodded sagely. "They don't make them like they used to."

"Sure thing, grandads," snarked Miltia, making them both splutter.

"I'm only forty!" cried Junior.

"And I'm only twenty-five," lied Roman.

No one believed him.

"You got the girl some medicine?" asked Junior.

"Of course. Why do you think I robbed a pharmacy?"

"Honestly, Roman, I couldn't say I have any idea why you would."

"Hah. Well, it wasn't actually the plan." He settled his arms around the twins again, if only to feel younger. "They simply saw me shopping and came to the wrong conclusion. Either way, I've made sure Neo is well on her way to recovery. I even got her to take some bowel medicine. Huge pill," he said, holding his finger and thumb out. "Really oddly shaped, too."

Junior glanced away. "That's to make it easier to fit in, Roman."

"Didn't look any easier when she was swallowing it."

The twins burst out laughing.

Junior sighed. "Roman, that was a suppository. It goes in the— You know what, never mind. Thanks for bringing the money. Are you going to need any of my boys soon? They're a little leery working for you right now. You're catching a lot of heat."

"I know. Isn't it fabulous?"

The doors slammed open before Junior could respond, and a cold breeze washed over Roman's back.

He shuddered, turning and saying, "Close the damn door, won't you kindly? It's cold in here!"

The woman silhouetted in the doorway snarled at him. "Roman..."

Oops.

"Ah, Cinder!" Roman swivelled on his stool and let go of the twins, allowing them to scoot away so they wouldn't be caught in any backlash. They didn't know Cinder, not as well as he, but they were smart girls and could sense the danger. "Come in. Come in. Would you care for a drink? Junior, a red wine for my lovely guest." He eyed the munchkins after her. "And some fruit juice for the children."

Despite his generosity, Cinder wasn't looking best pleased as she stormed over and took the seat beside him. Her hand snatched the wine glass offered and she took a heavy, calming swig.

"I am not best pleased, Roman," she hissed. "Can you imagine why?"

"Honestly, I can't." His immediate answer made her gape at him. "Something gone wrong on your end? Did you catch the kids mid-coitus?" The green-haired one squawked angrily, spluttering orange juice on herself. "I can imagine that would be embarrassing but as long as they wear protection I don't see the issue."

"No, Roman. This is about you!"

"Moi...?" Roman touched a hand to his chest. "Are you still angry about the incident with the huntresses? I told you before, I could hardly be expected to anticipate Glynda Goodwitch's arrival. And the heist was on your orders."

Her hand fisted into his collar and pulled him close. "I'm talking about your recent shenanigans!"

There was a moment of silence. Mercury and Emerald looked like they wanted nothing more than to see him burned alive, while the twins – bless them – looked ready to intervene on his behalf. He waved them off before they could get themselves hurt. He'd heard they already had a bad run-in with some nutcase blonde who came and trashed the club. Instead, he used his other hand to gently take Cinder's hand and remove it, then picked up her wine glass and placed it back in her hand.

"Cinder, Cinder," he said, drawing her name out. "But to what do I owe such a reaction? Was it not you who told me that I should acquire funds in my own time? I've just paid Junior here back for the loss of his men, meaning I can hire more to help in the dust robberies you're expecting of me."

Her eyes narrowed, but she took a sip of her wine. He took that as a good sign.

"All I've done, I've done to better enable myself to assist you in your endeavours. After all, I told you I was having financial problems. Those might have got in the way of my dust targets, and we wouldn't want that. Would we?"

"No," she said, a little calmer. "You wouldn't want that."

"We wouldn't want it," he said, offering her a flirtatious wink. Cinder rolled her eyes at it, but she didn't immolate him and that was a good sign. His confidence was returning. "After all, you'd have to come discipline me and that would be a waste of time for both of us."

"Hmm. I suppose it would be. A greater waste of my time would be replacing you if you were to get caught in these little games of yours, however."

"Ah, you needn't worry about that. And if I was caught then I wouldn't have been worth your time in the first place!" A little self-critical humour never went amiss, and it didn't matter anyway because he wasn't one to be caught. Not unless he wanted to be. "I am in complete control of the situation, Cinder. You needn't worry so much."

"Including driving off a bridge...?"

"Ah." He coughed. "A small hiccup on Neo's part. But don't tell her I said that," he whispered. "Poor girl is awfully self-conscious about it."

"Is that so? I trust this fame won't go to your head, Roman. I wouldn't want you to develop an inflated ego."

"Me. An ego? Inflated? Cinder, Cinder, Cinder! My ego is exactly the size it should be. Smaller, even. I'll have you know I'm quite the humble gentleman!"

He was at that!

After all, while he accepted that he was the most handsome and most capable thief in all of Vale, he was humble enough to not know for sure if he should say "—all of Remnant." He didn't know every thief in Remnant after all, so it was entirely possible that there was someone out there as, or even more, fabulous as he.

It was unlikely.

But it was possible.

"As for fame, believe me when I say I know how to handle it without letting it go to my head." He laughed and dared to loop an arm around Cinder's neck. Her eyes were murderous but he was in too good a mood to let it bother him like it normally would have. "I've spent years being mooned over by every young woman in Remnant. Ah, to wake up and find fanart of you online. Not to mention the stories. Did you know there's an entire archive of fanfiction about me?"

"I did not." Cinder peeled his hand off her shoulder. "And I do not want to know."

That was a shame. There were some rather good stories in there that he'd read. Excellent characterisation, especially when they were describing him slipping into their bedroom in the dark of night with the moonlight behind him. They also gave his particulars very genero—ahem. Very accurate measurements.

"Suffice to say, I am a master at not letting the attention go to my head," he finished. "So, you needn't worry about any mistakes there. And really, all this attention on me might even be good for your ends. It'll help obfuscate anything you might do."

"True." Cinder was warming to the idea. He could tell. All she needed was to know that she was still in control. He'd met her type before. "Very well, Roman. You've assuaged my concerns a little more successfully than I expected you would. However, I have a job for you."

Drat.

"I am, of course, at your service. Good timing on my having secured Junior's assistance as well, no?"

"No," she said, surprising him. "Not this time. I've actually managed to secure some assistance for you. And you will use them in this, Roman. It is a... requirement of the job." Her eyes glowed faintly. "Tell me, what are your thoughts on faunus?"

Faunus? In all truth, Roman thought good and bad of them. They made for excellent thieves but also rather annoyingly good security, especially when they could pick you out in the gloom from a hundred metres away despite the only light being that of the moon. Very irritating. It was a good thing, then, that Vale was so institutionally racist that they held faunus back from such trusted jobs out of fear they'd be betrayed by them. It made his work that much easier.

"I have no problems with the faunus," he said. "Charming people, and good at what they do. Except for those lunatics in the White Fang," he added, with a dismissive flick of his hand, as if to brush dust off his sleeve. "Fanatical morons who think they can fix racism by bombing the innocent. They couldn't fix a leaky tap if they had an army of plumbers at their back. Utterly unreliable people."

Cinder's smirk had grown to frankly worrying proportions.

He didn't much like it.

/-/

Neo sniffled and plotted murder.

Roman's, specifically.

Her head had only just begun to clear from the foggy realms of a medically induced high, and she felt just awful. Alive, thankfully, but through little more than her own miraculous constitution. Roman meant well, she knew, but he was just such a colossal idiot.

And he was home, opening the door and swinging off his coat in time to unintentionally deflect her heel kick into the wall.

THUNK!

Her heel stuck into the woodwork, leaving her stuck in the wall and suspended like she was defying gravity. Even then, she managed to cross her arms and pout at Roman.

"Neo? Ah, you're back on your feet. Perfect timing!" He hefted her up, yanking her foot out her boot entirely. "I have bad news. Cinder paid me a visit—" Her rage was turned to ash in an instant. Roman deserved a good beating for what he'd put her through, but Cinder was a more serious problem. "She has a job for us." His lips twisted. "An awful job."

Neo tilted her head.

"We're to steal more dust, of course, but she wants more than we can get at any one store. There's a shipment coming in at the docks tomorrow night." He carried her to the table and sat her down in a chair. "We are to intercept this and use a Bullhead to steal away shipping containers full of dust and transport them to a boat that will be waiting out on the water."

That didn't sound so bad. Neo poked him and made an exaggeratedly confused expression, to ask what had him so upset about it.

He let out a heavy sigh.

"We've been saddled with help."

Oh, good. Maybe they'd actually be reliable for once.

"It's the White Fang."

Neo was capable of sound when she wanted to make it, and the hiss of air that pierced between her teeth and past her lips conveyed all her feelings about them. Roman nodded.

"My thoughts exactly, and I expressed my concerns. Really, I did. You know she won't listen. Arrogant bitch." He sat down beside Neo. "And now we're stuck corralling a bunch of idiot animals on how to do our job. And no, I don't mean animals as in the race angle. I mean they have the brains of a bunch of farm animals."

Neo's head bobbed up and down. She agreed completely. On the other hand, it didn't sound like they could really mess this up. The docks would be quiet and this would presumably be in the early hours of the morning. How badly could the White Fang mess up attaching some steel cables to some containers? About the worst she could imagine was that they forgot to check the insides and ended up with a container full of sex toys.

"It's going to be an absolute shitshow," said Roman, groaning with a hand on his forehead pushing his head back. "They're just... They're just so unfashionable!" He flung his hands out, as Neo rolled her eyes. "Not just their outfits – but, I mean, that's a big part of it. So much grey and black. Why? It's so boring. You have white and red masks, so why not do something with those colours? It's not even like grey clothing dye is cheaper than any other colour. It's all synthetic nowadays. And, ugh, those masks. Really, portraying yourselves after the Grimm. Talk about tacky."

Against her better judgment, she nodded. Roman was a flamboyant idiot at the worst of times but Neo had to admit she looked damn good in her outfit. And it had been chosen by him. It was to match his theme, true, but if they were going to go out then they might as well look good.

As for the Grimm angle, that was just cringe. It was an attempt at being edgy from a bunch of people who really didn't need to try. They were terrorists for crying out loud. They killed people. When you were practically as bad as the Grimm, you didn't need to try and steal some of their fear. The whole point was that you could generate that on your own. The masks didn't even cover their full faces, nor their faunus parts.

How hard could it be to track them down based off height, hair, faunus features and lower jaw?

It couldn't be that difficult.

"—but they're unfashionable in their methods, too. All violence and with no moderation. I mean, they're theatrical, I agree, but you can overdo the violence and turn it from shocking to macabre. They're the kinds of people who would send the audience running, and for good reason! They'd consider it a victory if they could kill every witness to send a message. Ah." His hand came back to his forehead. "But then if you kill everyone, who is left to take the message? Amateurs, Neo. Complete amateurs! And we're going to be stuck with them. Oh, this is going to be like herding cats. No. It's going to be like being some underpaid schoolteacher taking the class out to the zoo and trying to stop the brats feeding themselves to the lions!"

Neo snorted. Let them. It was natural selection at its finest.

"And do you know what the worst part is!?" Roman shouted.

She cocked her head.

"She wants this done quietly!" he cried, throwing his arms up in the air. "The biggest dust heist in a decade, and she wants it to happen without a peep and without so much as a single news story on who was responsible!"

Ugh. Neo rolled her eyes.

"This is serious, Neo! No one will know our part in it! Think of the missed potential!"

A cushion hit him square in the face.

Roman continued moaning about how no one would know he was behind it and Neo tuned him out. At least this sounded like a quiet job. Honestly, she needed it after the absolute week she'd had thanks to his mid-life crisis. After the nonsense with being dropped in the ocean, she was looking forward to a robbery that didn't make the headlines and which wouldn't involve any nonsense like fighting for their lives or escaping in a hurry.

And no one could ruin that for her.

/-/

"Achoo!"

Blake rubbed her nose. It was cold out, and it would get even colder now that she'd run away from her team. The bitter tears still stung at her eyes, but she was determined to prove them wrong. The White Fang weren't involved in this.

They just weren't!

"I'll prove it!"

/-/

A nice, peaceful job with no risks at all.

Neo let out a happy sigh and brought her feet up onto the table. One of them was bare, and her toes wriggled unhappily in the chilly apartment. Roman had gathered the money for the rent, but he obviously hadn't paid it yet because the heating was still off. And her boot was still impaled into the wall by the door.

Also, where was her ice-cream? Neo looked about for any shopping bags he might have brought back and then tugged at his sleeve. A few urgent motions with her hands and the miming of her pushing an imaginary spoon into a bowl was enough to clue him in.

"Oh. The ice-cream I said I'd bring. Ah, well, I didn't expect Cinder to show up and... well... it would have been rude not to buy her a drink." He chuckled awkwardly as Neo's eyes flicked between colours. "I'm a gentleman thief, Neo. When a woman walks into a bar, I need to buy her a drink and flaunt my wealth. Even if I didn't have much wealth at the time. It's a sign of succe—eck!"

Neo's hands found his throat.

"T—Too tight," he choked. "Y—You hug too tight!"

Oh, she'd hug him all right. Neo would hug him and squeeze him and love him until his spine popped out. And then she'd find Cinder and turn the frigid bitch into ice-cream! Stupid, evil, domineering, ice-cream stealing witch! Neo shook her father figure like a rag doll, then dropped him.

"Is—Is this about the suppository I made you swallow?" he asked, making Neo freeze. "Because that was an innocent mista—ackkkk!"

Damn it, Blake. Neo just wants one easy night. Is that too much to ask?

Also, I once swallowed a suppository. It's one of those embarrassing stories. I was sick on a stop-off between two flights in Kuala Lumpur as a child. Not sick on the flights, but when we were in the airport for two hours for some reason. Just throwing up everywhere. Anyway, this German man on the flight offered my father a huge tablet for me and I swallowed it, only for the man to start waving his hands and explaining, in halting English, that it was meant to go in my backside.

He offered another but I politely declined it.

Next Chapter: 19th December

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