Here we gooo.

Chapter 3

"I'm baaaaack!"

Roman sauntered into the apartment with a skip in his step and enough cheer for two, which was important because Neo was being a surly little ball of flu and snot and didn't have much of her own cheer to spare. His pint-sized companion was wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets on the sofa, watching cartoons on a television he'd borrowed (stolen) from his neighbour's apartment.

The little girl's head poked up above her comfortable prison, her cheeks rosy and her nose even redder, sniffling and occasionally sneezing. Her multi-coloured hair was sticking up at odd angles, making her look like a cute, ruffled kitten.

Not that he would take his life into his own hands by admitting that.

"I've brought you chicken soup and bread," said Roman, waving the bag of shoplifted goods in front of her face. He'd have normally boasted on the act, but shoplifting wasn't as hard as it used to be. Those self-service checkouts made the act as boringly simple as scanning them through, not paying, and then walking out the door.

It wasn't even a challenge anymore.

Opening up a can of chicken soup and pouring it into a bowl for the microwave, he busied himself in selecting a bowl and slicing some fresh bread, talking the whole time.

"So, despite our marvellous and inspiring robbery of the Vale Central Bank, we still don't actually have enough money to pay rent. Mainly because you drove our cash to the bottom of the ocean."

Something hit his back and Roman turned, knelt, and picked up the remote-control Neo had launched at him. The girl glared furiously, then sneezed, somewhat ruining her efforts. Roman flicked the channel over to the news, and basked in the fact his face was still on it.

He'd been worried after the news started talking about Weiss Schnee and Pyrrha Nikos as if they were something anyone wanted to hear about. The daughter of the richest man on Remnant and some random girl who won a few tournaments. Puh-lease. As if they could measure up to his jaw-dropping exploits.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll forgive you losing all our money, Neo." Her eyes crossed, teeth gritting together. "I'll even forgive you the little swim you gave us, though you do need to work on your driving. But practice makes perfect!" He caught the pillow she hurled at him. "And I'm sure you'll get plenty of practice."

Neo's sock flopped uselessly over his nose.

Roman peeled it off. "You have a cold, dear. Can you perhaps not make it worse by undressing." He tossed it back to her along with the cushion and the remote. "You need to focus on getting better while I, the world-famous Roman Torchwick, focus on our reputations."

Neo pointed to the screen and the news report as if to say they were done.

Oh, Neo. She tried her best, she really did, but she was so new to this. Roman opened the microwave and poured the hot chicken soup into the bowl, then piled up two thick slices of bread and carried them over to her.

"What we've done is but sow the seeds of our triumphant return, my dear. Simply appearing once on the news isn't enough. We have caught the limelight for but a moment. Now, we must grasp it firmly with both hands and keep it focused on us."

Neo pouted.

And sniffled.

"But first!" he proclaimed, digging a spoon into the warm broth. "Here comes the Nevermore…"

Neo's eyes narrowed to evil slits as he made whooshing noises and approached her mouth. Her lips thinned and her jaw stuck out, stubbornly refusing to even acknowledge his existence. He had dealt with her before however, and quickly poked a finger into her ribs, making her silently squeal and open her mouth half to laugh and half to scream.

The spoonful of soup jammed inside.

Neo shuddered and sealed her lips around the spoon, but still glared at him.

"Atta girl. You need to eat your food to get better." He batted away her hands when she reached for the bowl. "No. I'm feeding you."

Neo's beleaguered expression demanded an explanation.

"Because, Neo, I don't trust you not to dump this soup on my head."

Neo considered that, tilted her head, and then nodded grudgingly. It looked like she was more upset that she hadn't thought of doing that than his accusation, which only went to show how sick she was. Neo would never miss an opportunity for mischief normally.

Resigned to her feeding, or determined to get it over with quickly, she stopped fighting and let him fill her up with soup and bread, the healing properties of which he was at least somewhat sceptical of. He'd heard it was an old wives' tale but seeing as how he had neither had a wife or a mother to call his own, he couldn't confirm it. Still, it had to be better than the ice-cream she'd normally subsist on. Once he'd fed her, he wrapped up tight in blankets and cushions and re-filled a water bottle with hot water from the tap for her to rest her feet on.

There was something oddly cathartic about looking after her.

"Comfy? Good. Now, we need to plan for a heist where we actually walk away with some money. Which means I should probably be trusted with it instead of you." He felt her weakly kick at him but ignored it. "No, no. Don't worry. We'll wait until you're hearty and hale. I mean, can you imagine the coverage of our heist if you were sneezing and sniffling everywhere?"

Everyone would focus on her and alternate between sympathy and pity – and worse, they'd start looking at him for being the one to force her to go out while ill. He'd be roundly criticised, and that wouldn't do. Roman was perfectly willing to share his fame with Neo, but that was to be an even share. Not her eclipsing him and winning people's hearts. Neo would receive a fair and even chunk of the limelight pie.

A 25% share. Or was that too much? Maybe it should be more of an 80-20 split.

"—shoooo!"

Neo's quiet sneeze interrupted him again. It was some of the few noises she could make, even if it was mostly wind from her lungs whistling out her mouth. It was a reminder not to plan his next heist right now. Better to focus on the small things.

"I'm going to go out and get you some medicine from the pharmacy," he told her. Neo looked up at him pitifully and nodded. "Don't you worry. I'll be back soon, and we'll have you right as rain in no time. And then on the news once more!"

Neo rolled her eyes.

/-/

Being sick wasn't fun.

Neo normally enjoyed being lazy and spoilt, and wrapping up in every blanket while Roman cooked her food and filled water bottles for her would have otherwise been a dream come true, but that was without her nose running and her eyes stinging and her body shivering despite the thermostat being cranked up to a nearly tropical level.

And Roman kept complaining about the heating bills as if they actually paid it.

He was lucky she wasn't feeling up to strangling him for the repeated comments about her losing the bank money, too. Stupid Roman. Stupid fame-hungry, idiot, dumb, petulant, narcissistic old man. Neo sneezed again, rocking her entire body.

Ugh…

The only relief was that Roman was on the news again. She'd been hoping that would be enough to tide him over for the next five or six years, or that it would satisfy his mid-life crisis and let him move on. No suck luck by the sound of things. He wanted more. Neo sighed and sank into her fort of blankets and pillows until she was just a nose and pair of eyes peeking out from it.

How long did mid-life crises normally last, anyway? Neo searched it on her scroll and found it could affect both men and women. She snorted, shaking her head at the idea she'd ever be that dump. Apparently, it could last anywhere from two to five years in women. Neo groaned. But maybe it was quicker for men; they could pick up and drop hobbies in a heartbeat, so maybe it'd only be—

Three to ten years.

Damn it, men! Be useful for once!

Neo cried out silently. She wouldn't survive to reach her own if Roman's crisis lasted that long. He was an old man who wasn't half as spry as he thought he was, and they'd nearly died in a car crash after the bank. Her idea of kidnapping Lisa Lavender and just forcing her to write stories about Roman to feed his ego was looking more and more appealing.

At least he was doing the responsible thing and buying her some medicine, though.

He wasn't entirely useless.

Just… a little too lost in the past. And his own reputation.

He was still better than her real parents.

Not that she'd ever admit that to the idiot. It'd go straight to his head, and he'd be twice as insufferable as he already was. Neo sighed silently and picked up the remote, changing the channel back to her cartoons.

/-/

Roman hummed and peered closely at the shelf in the pharmacy. It felt like there were a lot more medicines than they used to be back in his day, and they all had stupid names referring to the ailment but, to his displeasure, making extensive use of puns.

Sneeze-a-way. Flu Flush. Depress-b-gone.

He picked up one and turned it around, reading the cutesy drawing of someone's body highlighting the areas it affected. Below was an equally cheery list of side-effects that included everything from further sickness to blindness and even death.

"Why can't it just be labelled as medicine for a common cold…?" Roman tapped his chin. "Hmmm…"

Back in his day, headache pills were just labelled as such, the same for sleeping pills, cold medicine, chesty coughs and more. He blamed the youngest generation and their poor attention spans for the changes. Yes, it was all their fault.

"Though Neo being unable to tell me if it's a chesty cough, sore throat, flu, seasonal allergies or whatever doesn't exactly help. Maybe I should just get one of everything and let her go at it? I'm sure she'd be fine."

He'd take her to the doctor except that the underground doctor they used had refused to treat Neo for anything less than life threatening injuries after he'd had to set her dislocated shoulder and she'd broken his in a moment of reflexive pain. Neo could be such a wimp sometimes. He still hadn't managed to get her to a dentist this year, and she would literally vanish and hide behind her Semblance whenever he booked her an appointment.

Didn't she realise that fantastic teeth and a fabulous smile were necessary for her inevitable media appearances? If you were going to have your mugshot splashed across the various news stations of the world, you didn't want your teeth to be anything less than sparkly white.

"Maybe I should get her some decent toothpaste while I'm here."

Maybe some skin cream, too. The last thing he wanted was Neo feeling eclipsed by his youthful; vigour and developing a complex. It was inevitable that he'd take the lion's share of attention, especially from the lonely women all across the city, but Neo shouldn't be left out in the rain just because she wasn't as handsome as him.

Humming to himself, Roman generously added various bits and pieces to his plastic basket, from flu and cold medicine to headache pills, fever medicine and some beauty creams. Floss, too. Goodness knows Neo didn't floss half as much as she should. Really, he had to do almost everything for the little munchkin. She really would be helpless without him. Once his basket was full, Roman made his way to the counter and dumped it down.

There was no one there.

"Hellooo?" called Roman, leaning over the counter. "Can I get some service over here? Valued customer just minding his own business." He rang the bell to no avail, before sighing and planting his hands on hips. He turned to address the rest of the store. "Really, this place is—"

Empty.

"Huh…" Roman glanced around the empty aisles. "I could have sworn the place was fairly busy when I arrived."

And had there always been flashing blue lights outside.

"ROMAN TORCHWICK!" someone shouted through a megaphone. "YOU ARE SURROUNDED. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"

Oh…

Oh yeah, he was back on Vale's most-wanted list, wasn't he?

"Whoops."

/-/

Neo sniffled unhappily.

But the cartoons were at least good.

Until they were suddenly overtaken by a news bulletin.

"Breaking news just in!" said Lisa Lavender, looking very pleased with herself. "Notorious criminal Roman Torchwick is at this moment holding up a pharmacy store in downtown Vale." The screen flashed to a building surrounded by police. "As you can see, the building is currently surrounded and the VPD are preparing to move in to arrest the wanted criminal."

The camera zoomed in through one of the windows to see Roman who, of all things, was talking to himself as he picked up a tube of toothpaste and read the details on the back. He tilted his head, rubbed his chin, and set it back on the shelf before picking up another. Everyone watching might have imagined he was taunting the police by pretending to be shopping, but Neo knew better. He was lost in his own thoughts again like the idiot he was.

"The police are ready to move in and detain him at any moment. This is Lisa Lavender reporting live from the scene!"

Neo wailed silently and exploded out her blanket fort.

/-/

"Well, well, well, this is quite the predicament."

Despite the words, Roman didn't feel too worried. In fact, he felt rather flattered by the swift arrival. They really wanted him. Ah, to be the centre of attention once more. Smirking, he struck a pose in the window, stabbing his cane down charismatically and leaning on it.

Only to stumble once he realised there was no cane to stand on.

He managed to catch himself on a shelf and pull it over, scattering medical products all over the floor.

"Right, Melodic Cudgel died," he mumbled to himself. "I really need to get another, if only for the aesthetic. Need money for that." He eyed the till. "Well, since I am apparently robbing the place now, I suppose I might as well."

The cashier's till wasn't locked, much to his amusement. The cashier and the other customers must have panicked and left without thinking to lock up. He snatched the lien out of it and stuffed it in his pockets, then grabbed a bag and stuffed his own purchases in there. It wouldn't do to be caught up in all this and forget Neo's medicine. He was a conscientious father figure after all and needed to look after his little mute accomplice lest she feel too downtrodden.

Neo was lucky to have him.

"Hmm. No hostages. That's fine. Hostage taking is out of flavour ever since the White Fang ruined it."

In his day, hostage taking had been a reciprocal and wonderful thing. He would get the benefit of a human shield, and they would get the pleasure of being held against his body and to feel his presence. They got a wonderful story out of it too, able to tell their future children the day they got to taste his fame and experience the heady sensation of having every camera, weapon and law enforcement officer for miles around trained on you. Alas, the pressure of the performance often got to them, and they would swoon and faint in his arms.

Roman often had that effect on people, especially women.

Alas, the White Fang had turned it all sour. Their petty and brutish treatment of hostages, up to and including killing them, had made hostage-taking a dirty word, and Roman was anything if not attentive to changing trends.

He had to be on top of his game after all. He certainly didn't want to be talking about in the same dreadful tones as the White Fang. Though that might become difficult thanks to Cinder's insistence he work with the brutish animals.

Simply dreadful.

"ROMAN TORCHWICK—"

"I heard you the first time!" he shouted. "Really, have a little patience. The performance has yet to begin." And he hated being caught off-guard and without a proper plan. "Well, looks like I'm going to have to wing this one."

That would be a lot easier if he still had Melodic Cudgel.

Or any weapon at all.

Roman wasn't normally one for hand-to-hand combat, seeing as how it was such a clumsy and thuggish style of—

"BREACH!"

"What now…?"

The door to the pharmacy exploded inward and was quickly followed by two spinning cannisters that belched out a thick, acrid smoke. That was only given a few seconds to fill the main shopping area (that Roman was not exactly in, being behind the counter) before four police officers in full gear and gasmasks squeezed into the shop, pointing their weapons around.

Aware that they would be wearing bodycams, Roman spread his arms wide and posed grandly behind the counter.

"Gentlemen! Gentlemen! If you are here to shop, then you need only bring your purchases to the counter – along with money to spend!" He winked suggestively. "And you'll be expected to hand that money over to yours truly."

"Target sighted!" barked one.

"Who? Me?" Roman touched his chest. "I assure you, sir, I am a target of many—"

He ducked down as they opened fire. Such an immediate and lethal response was about what a criminal known to have aura could expect, but the way the bullets failed to over penetrate the wall told him they were rubber. Ideal for dealing with crooked criminals and unruly protesters alike, and, for all their lack of murderous ability, they were about the same impact on aura as real bullets without the risk of breaking a person's aura and killing them.

Crawling along the back end of the counter, Roman scurried into what were the back offices of the pharmacy where boxes of product were stacked high. He needed a weapon. As the officers stormed the counter, he toppled several boxes down and spilled thousands of pills onto the floor. Alas, while Neo's cartoons might have had the officers tripping and flailing over them, their heavy boots simply crunched the tablets to powder.

It did slow them down a little, however.

Pulling a shelving unit down, Roman kicked open another door but then doubled back to hide behind the first, and sure enough the police entered and trained their weapons on the far one. He struck once the second man had entered, slamming a cardboard packaging box over his helmet and mask and blinding him. Kicking the third back, he assaulted the lead officer and pushed his gun up, making it fire into the ceiling.

"Careful with that," he teased, stepping into the man's guard to wrestle the weapon away. "You might hurt someone!"

The plan, at least, was sound, but Roman had somewhat underestimated the strength of the officer – that had to be it, because the alternative was that he'd grown weaker and that simply wasn't possible. The officer really didn't seem to want to let go of his gun and even managed to force Roman back!

That wouldn't do.

A quick jab to the stomach with an aura-reinforced hand drove the wind out the man, letting Roman slide an elbow down onto the insides of the man's own and force his arms down. He pushed back with his hip as he did, finally getting the weapon off him just as the second got the box off his head and the third got back up off the floor where he'd fallen.

Ten years prior, he'd have had all three down and out for the count.

Sheesh.

"Gentlemen. Gentlemen. Let us talk about this!"

"PUT DOWN THE WEAPON!"

"And place myself at a disadvantage? I think so—"

The unarmed man tackled him, and it was so sudden that Roman really wasn't prepared for it. The other two rushed in, and while Roman was able to kick the first off him, he took a hefty blow to his back from one of the others. A baton came out and struck down on his shoulder, and Roman's body protested despite his aura.

"P—Please," he growled, fending them off with more effort than he'd expected. "You're crowding me when you could – oof! – just wait patiently for an autograph—" A fist to his face closed his witty banter off and left Roman a little stunned as well.

Was he really so out of shape that he couldn't take on three of Vale's finest…?

Surely not.

And the loss to a fifteen-year-old girl a week earlier was a fluke.

Wasn't it…?

One of them managed to wrench Roman's arm behind his back and pin him down onto his knees. Well, this was awkward. Roman clenched his teeth tight, wondering when they'd snuck honest to goodness huntsmen into police squads. These people were a little too good to just be random officers. And his arms were hurting so badly that it felt like they'd pulled them clean out his sockets.

"We have the perp—"

The skylight above them shattered.

Reality warped, or so it seemed. Shards of glass and flashes of light and colour that befuddled the mind. Roman felt the man behind him let go and be launched back, and he caught the vaguest flickers of pink and white light flashing. There was gunfire, and rubber bullets pinging painfully up Roman's side, and then there was silence.

Until, with a shattering sound of glass, an exhausted, sickly, and runny-nosed Neo stood panting before him.

Still dressed in her pyjamas.

Her head reared back. Her eyes flickered.

"—shooo!" she sneezed.

"Neo…" he whispered, and the girl preened proudly. "—why are you in your pyjamas…?"

She stared at him with narrowed eyes.

"We're being recorded, Neo, and you're not even dressed. Goodness." He stood and whipped off his coat to wrap it around her, ignoring her surly expression. "And you interrupted my moment. I was about to turn the tables on these fellows in a suitably dramatic fashion."

One eyebrow rose.

"Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?"

Both eyebrows rose.

"Nonsense! I was in complete control." He hefted the bag of medicine. "I even got you your medication."

Neo made for a sarcastic expression only to go cross-eyed and sneeze again. She tugged on his coat to wrap it tighter around her and shivered. Poor girl. She must have been worried about him – unnecessary, of course, as he'd been in complete control despite the rather lamentable position she'd found him in. Why, he'd been just about to break free, defeat his enemies, steal one of their uniforms and sneak out before hijacking a cop car and driving away in style.

But he supposed he ought to give her some credit.

"Let's get you home and in bed," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I suppose you did come at a convenient time to help me slip out. Use your Semblance now, and we'll simply walk out with our ill-gotten gains."

Neo eyed the bag.

"I stole some money too!" he said, defensively. "Almost enough for rent!"

Her expression was flat.

"Well, maybe I wouldn't need to steal more for rent if someone hadn't driven our first heist off a— ow! Ow! Neo, not the hair! Not the balls, either!"

/-/

The news was still reporting on his miraculous escape from a police barricade without detection by the time they got home, and Lisa Lavender was doing a wonderful job of making it his genius and not police incompetence. That was one of the few ways in which he agreed with the government's tendency to try and protect their own hides, because police incompetence – which was very real – made it sound like he'd just lucked out, while the other option put all the credit for the escape squarely on his shoulders.

So, yes, Roman rather appreciated Vale's finest having a trumped-up reputation, since it made his own all the better for having outsmarted them.

A shame that the world wouldn't recognise Neo's part in it.

He'd have to do something nice for her; give her an adventure of her own and let her have the limelight. Once she was feeling better, of course. He was so good to her.

The bedroom door slammed open, and Neo stood there, panting and red in the face, shaking slightly having escaped her blanket fortress. She stumbled clumsily toward him, almost fell, then caught herself on the closest table.

Her hand stabbed to the bag of medicine on it, then to her mouth.

"What did I give you…?"

A furious nod.

"Well, I wasn't sure exactly what would help so I just gave you a mish-mash of pretty much every drug at once." Roman smiled, proud of his ingenuity. "Ground them all up into one mega-pill. Clever, eh?"

Neo lunged with her small hands outstretched to throttle him.

But she tripped and fell halfway into his arms.

Her eyes were hazy.

"Don't worry," said Roman, sweeping her up in his arms. "Some of the side-effects mentioned feelings of drowsiness. I imagine mixing them all together into one super-medicine will have made that even stronger."

Weakly, one of Neo's hands reached his neck and squeezed.

Roman chuckled. "Yes, yes. I love you, too. But if I give you a hug then I'm liable to catch whatever you have." He ignored her bared teeth and carried her to bed, tucking her in as she spaced out, essentially tripping balls off the medical medley he'd given her. He gently took her hand and placed it under the covers. "Don't you worry, Neo. Once you're all better, we'll pull our biggest heist yet, and we'll really make a name for ourselves."

Neo opened her mouth and yawned.

Or screamed.

No, it was probably a yawn. The poor girl must have been tuckered out.

"Sleep tight, princess." Roman tugged the covers up to her chin as Neo passed out in bed. "Man," he whispered. "I am such an awesome father figure."

Roman: "Man, I am so damn wholesome it's unreal."

Neo: Must… not… orphan… self…

Next Chapter: 5th December

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