Note: Who said I'm not allowed to do character development during a fun side arc?

Destruction of private property was a crime.

It didn't matter that its destruction was humorous, or that it was part of a larger competition with a friend, or that the person responsible was a very famous Huntress. The law was quite clear: don't smash other people's expensive things. That was how Yang found herself giving testimony to two police officers on Bermuda Boardwalk, with her three friends awkwardly watching from a distance.

Yang was rather annoyed about the whole thing. It wasn't her fault the punching machine shattered into pieces. Okay, like, it was, but they should have built it better. She didn't use it for any unintended purpose, nor was she willful and reckless in her action. Also, the dude behind the counter wouldn't even take her tickets. That was bullshit. She wanted an oversized teddy bear! Now she had to talk to some cops. Again. At the very least, they were polite. One of them even seemed to be a fan of hers. That made the medicine go down easier. If she was charming and apologetic enough, she would avoid getting caught with the bill.

While Yang was distracted by the cops, the other three had wandered down the boardwalk. They had done nothing wrong, and the police were not interested in hearing their testimony. Was that poor procedure? Quite possibly, but Vacuo was not known for its effective police force. Coco, Pyrrha, and Nora were allowed to leave—and it was while they were walking down the boardwalk, searching for something non-destructive, they found it.

A clothing store. Nothing special on the outside. Cheap, novelty t-shirts. Designs so gaudy that no one would be caught dead wearing them. Meant for tourists. And yet, one shirt hanging out in the store window caught Coco's eye. The shirt was all black and two sizes too big, but it was the ironed-on print that got her attention. The image on the shirt was of one Yang Xiao Long in a low-cut top, her iconic shotgun gauntlets in frame as she adjusted her sunglasses. It was a cropped selfie, taken directly from her KnightsPage account. In an atrocious font, words were printed above the panel: Suns Out, Guns Out. The three of them stood in front of the shirt for a long time, and several important questions came to mind.

Nora spouted out hers first. "Is she eighteen in that photo?"

"I don't see how that's possible," Pyrrha explained, "given that she's only seventeen now."

"So is that… a crime?"

"What would be the crime?"

"I'm not sure."

"Then no."

Coco shook her head. "Pretty sure this is at least trademark infringement. Doesn't Yang own the rights to her likeness?"

"I wouldn't know," Pyrrha stated. "I don't think she would like it if she found out someone was selling t-shirts of her without her permission."

"Hey, guys," Nora said suddenly. "Do you guys think it's weird that Team RWBY are… famous?"

"Now you're bringing this up?" asked Coco.

"It's weird being friends with a bunch of celebrities," Nora explained. "We're an entourage. I never got to be part of an entourage before. Right now, I bet Yang is using her celebrity charm to woo those cops into leaving her alone."

"Technically, I am also a celebrity," Pyrrha reminded her. "It's actually not that fun, having people constantly follow you around. Sometimes you just want some privacy."

Coco crossed her arms, smirking. "I don't know. Wouldn't mind a bit more attention myself. Hell, where are the cameras? Doesn't anyone know we're here?"

"They probably will soon, once Yang's story gets out," Pyrrha sighed. "Maybe we should lay low for the next few days, just in case."

"Or maybe it's time we introduced the friends of Team RWBY to the world," Coco suggested. "No reason why Yang should get all of the credit."

Speaking of the dragon, Yang wrapped up her conversation with the police, and spotting her friends in the distance, jogged over to greet them. She had a great look of relief on her face as she threw her hair over her shoulder, and Coco's ideas were stopped before they could go any further.

"Okay, great news: They won't press charges," Yang confirmed. "They said it's the machine's fault for not being able to keep up with me."

"That's great!" Nora exclaimed. "We were just talking about your face."

"Excuse me?"

"Look!" Nora pointed to the shop, and Yang stared at the image of her face in confusion for several seconds. Her face stared back at her. That was unquestionably her, on that shirt she did not approve of, stolen directly from a personal photo. There were certainly all manner of legal ramifications that she had to consider, many complex ethical questions about the exploitation of one's image, the relationship between the true self and the public persona, ownership over the projection of oneself into the public eye, the usage of cheap labor to produce knock-off goods, and the lack of standards in certain industries for skirting around copyright protection.

"Huh," Yang said. "Suns out… guns out…"

"Yes, we thought you should know," Pyrrha told her. "We weren't sure if they were allowed to do that. Perhaps you can talk to the store clerk and—"

"I'm buying it."

"What?"

Yang laughed proudly and waltzed toward the store entrance. "Come on, that's great! That's a great pun! I wish I thought of that. I gotta get one of those before they sell out."

Without another word, Yang entered the store, eager to spend some of Winter's hard-earned cash. She may not have gotten a teddy bear, but she wasn't going back empty-handed. Pyrrha smacked her palm against her forehead. Nora shrugged, wondering if she should buy a shirt herself. Coco just enjoyed watching Yang walk.

To say Blake wasn't expecting Weiss was a lie. For several hours, the former assassin had been dodging the Schnee heiress, weaving in and out of the villa to avoid her wrath. Even when Weiss seemed to ignore her, Blake continued to stay out of her way. Vengeance—well deserved—was coming her way. She just wanted to put it off as long as possible.

It was shortly before dinner that the moment of truth arrived. Blake was relaxing in her bedroom, enjoying the free space. It was the largest room she ever had to herself. In Menagerie, her sleeping space was barely larger than a closet. In Gunhound, they were practical with the space they had, keeping their living quarters compact. In Beacon and Atlas, she had to share. Now, with a vast queen-sized bed all to herself, an open floor plan that let her stretch and crawl with room to spare, and the warm rays of the setting sun upon her, she felt like a person. This was her space, her room. She finally had things all to herself. And deep in the back of her mind was the nagging sensation she deserved none of it.

But then it came, of course. The moment of truth. A knock at the door. A whiny voice from the other side.

"Blake, I know you're in there. I want to talk."

Blake groaned, burying her face into the fresh, white linens. She probably could have waited Weiss out, but that was a losing game. Dinner was soon, and as much as she hated to admit it, that Arc boy knew how to fry a fish. She would have to confront the consequences sooner or later. She might as well do it with some privacy. With a slouch and a moan, Blake dragged herself off the bed and opened the door. Weiss was there to greet her, having changed out of her swimwear into a formal, summer dress. She still managed to look prissy and overly refined. Blake sighed as she leaned against the doorframe.

"Okay, come in." She beckoned Weiss inside and shut the door behind them. No Ruby in sight. Strange, but wholly unsurprising. Weiss sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hands on her lap. Blake walked in front of her, turned her back, then held out her arms. "All right. Let me have it."

"Have what?"

"I know some kind of revenge is coming. Bring it on. I'm ready."

Blake wasn't really expecting Weiss to hit her. The Schnee was far too upstanding for that. But she wasn't expecting the heaviness of Weiss's sigh.

"That's not why I'm here."

Blake cautiously glanced over her shoulder. "You're not pranking me back?"

"Oh, I'll find some way to get back at you," Weiss promised with a gentle smile. "I will admit: you got me pretty good. And, when you least expect it, I'll get you back in some way that is twice as humiliating. But that's not why I wanted to talk to you."

Blake lowered her arms and, somewhat disappointed, turned around. She looked down at Weiss expectantly. "Okay. What do you want?"

Weiss took a deep breath. Something became hitched in her throat, but she pushed it out. "I actually… wanted to… thank you."

That was the last thing Blake expected to hear.

"Thank me? For the prank?"

"No, no," Weiss shook her head. "Not for the… why would I thank you for that?"

"I don't know. Why do you do anything?"

"Please, listen," Weiss insisted. "Yes, I am upset about the prank. But truthfully, it got me thinking. About us… and how we changed."

Blake crossed her arms. This was a joke, right? A means of lowering her guard so that when the real prank hit, Blake wouldn't expect it. Ruby was going to burst into the room and hit her with a pie to the face, and it would all be revealed as a big practical joke. Yet, Weiss was painfully sincere. At this stage of their relationship, Blake knew Weiss well enough to know she was a terrible liar. There was a particular stutter when she lied that gave her away, and when she was obviously bullshitting, there was an air of condescension that was unmistakably Schnee-like. Weiss had none of that here, and that led Blake to the bizarre conclusion that Weiss was trying to be genuine. The least she could do in return was listen.

"What do you mean?"

Weiss seemed to struggle with the words for a moment, before eventually blurting them out. "I tried to kill you. Do you ever think about that?"

Blake went quiet, only briefly. "Uh… yeah. I think about that."

"And we… we really hurt each other in that fight," Weiss said with disbelief. "You stabbed me. Right here." She pointed to a faint mark on her shoulder where Gambol Shroud once pierced through.

"I stabbed you lots of places," Blake said, her words tangled in a strange mix of snark and guilt.

"And I hated you," Weiss continued. "I hated you so much. But now, we're here. And instead of attacking me, you're just doing this… this dumb little prank that means nothing. You've done all of these really awful things to me, but now you're just doing… this. And the weirdest thing is, we're doing this in my family's villa. The only reason we can do this is because of Winter, and the only reason Winter is safe is because of… you."

Blake awkwardly looked away. Her arms sagged over her chest. Weiss was surprised to see her frown.

"It's Stiltskin you should be thanking for that."

"We went to Stiltskin because of you," Weiss reminded her. "Winter got healed because of your plan."

"The plan that almost killed her—"

"But it didn't," Weiss stopped her. "I know you have this weird problem with accepting compliments, but Blake, I'm serious about this. Winter's health, my father being removed from power, this whole vacation… none of this could have happened without you. My family is healing again, and I never thanked you for that. I meant to and I should have earlier, but I just… I had difficulty coming to terms with how much you actually meant to me. But I don't know. Something today just made me realize how much you've changed. Admittedly, in some places, you haven't, but… you did something for me that no one else could have. Thank you for that. From the bottom of my heart."

Blake just groaned. Something still felt wrong. Hell, Weiss being sincere made it feel worse. She tried walking away, leaving the gratitude behind.

"I mean… maybe Ruby should also get the credit? She came up with half the plan. And also, remember, we only did that because I got us into that mess in the first place."

Weiss refused to take the bait. "I don't buy that, and even if it was true, it doesn't matter. What matters is that Winter wouldn't be cured without you. After everything I did to you, you still went out of your way to help someone close to me. You didn't have to do that, but you did it anyway. You can act like it was accidental or someone else's idea, but you aren't fooling me. Despite everything that's happened between us, you made sure she was okay. That's something I don't know if I can ever repay you for."

Blake held still, resting her arms by her sides. She gazed out the window, watching the sun fade away over the trees. Weiss's words lingered inside of her mind… and they hurt. Why the hell did she feel like that? Her greatest rival was sitting here, finally acknowledging everything she had done, and she just wanted the moment to end. It took several long seconds to process why, and it left Blake with a bitter taste in her throat. One thing was clear: none of it was Weiss's fault. She didn't deserve her coldness, and she did not deserve to suffer Blake's demons—certainly not during their vacation. They were supposed to leave all that misery behind.

A few steps, an awkward shuffle, and Blake sat down next to Weiss on the edge of the bed. She sat hunched over, resting her elbows on her knees, staring at the floor. She spoke with a huff.

"Well, you didn't have to tell Ruby to be kind to me after I botched the meeting with Sienna."

Weiss was hit with a surprise. "How did you… I mean, I didn't…"

"Oh, come on," Blake smirked, though it faded fast. "Ruby is mad at me one minute, you call her for a private chat, then suddenly she's apologizing to me. That's the most suspicious shit in the world. You told her to be nice to me when I was going through a really rough time."

Weiss bowed her head. Her immediate instinct was to dismiss the act as strengthening their team, but she realized that would fall into the same trap. "You… were miserable. And I didn't like how hard she was being on you. I thought that was unfair."

"Appreciate it," Blake sighed. "You know, I didn't do a lot of things right in my life. Most of it was out of my control. The few times I got to make decisions, I screwed them all up. And it's like… now I'm here in this fancy fucking mansion, living a life most of my people would never dream of, and it's hard not to feel like I cheated somehow. I know everyone keeps telling me I've changed, and that I deserve this, but like… when is it going to stop feeling like it's a lie, you know? When does that go away?"

"I wish I had an answer for that," Weiss admitted. "But I do think it's true that you've changed. I wish you would be willing to accept that."

"Yeah, well, it's also pretty hard to accept compliments when the one guy who used to do it to me was also a fucking asshole."

"Adam? Yeah. I've picked that up."

"You don't know the half of it."

"I don't want to," Weiss stated. "I want to look forward, for both of us."

"Right," Blake said softly. "One thing though. Earlier, you said you hated me. Hated—past tense. Does… that mean you don't hate me now?"

Weiss shook her head. "I… don't think I've been capable of hating you for a long time. I don't know what this new relationship we have is, but… I would like to keep growing it. Maybe, if we keep looking out for each other, I might even start to like you."

Blake cringed. "I don't know about that."

"I said might."

"I might stab you again."

"Can I at least give you a hug?" Weiss offered. "For saving my sister's life and everything."

Blake rolled her eyes. "Only if you promise to literally never do it again."

Weiss snickered, then wrapped her arms around Blake's shoulders. Blake didn't try to hug her back, but she didn't resist either. She simply relaxed into Weiss's hold, and Weiss realized it was the most affection Blake was capable of giving her.

Honestly, it felt rather nice.

After a solid ten seconds, Blake and Weiss stood up. For the former, the moment could finally be put behind her. "Okay, now that that's over, I'm so fucking hungry it's crazy. Think Jaune is going to make more fish tonight."

The pair walked to the door as Weiss shrugged off the question. "I don't know. Maybe he'll cook a more Atlasian dish tonight."

"God, I hope not," Blake said, opening the door and stepping into the wall. "Your cuisine is—"

And a full pie flew directly into Blake's face, splattering whipped cream all over her. Blake jumped back in shock, the tin falling to the floor as Ruby jumped out from behind the corner, laughing and pointing and taunting the whipped-cream-covered Faunus.

"Prank!" Ruby shouted. "You got pranked! You got got so good!"

Blake took a huge spoonful of the whipped cream and slid it off her cheeks. Fuck, it was everywhere. In her hair, her eyes… what was that flavor? Banana? Who the fuck purchases a banana cream pie? As she stood there, miserable and covered in fruit and cream and all sorts of nastiness, she heard dainty footsteps skip behind her. Weiss sauntered into view, hands behind her back, an innocent yet knowing smirk on her face. Through the whipped cream, Blake's eyes burned with a terrible fury.

"Now don't get me wrong: I meant everything I said," Weiss clarified. "But also…"

She slowly raised two middle fingers, her smile widening into a large, toothy grin.

"I believe you got pranked, bitch."

Fifteen minutes past midnight.

The couch—the temporary den of the dragon.

The rest of the day had passed without incident. Yang told the others about their arcade incident and showed off her new shirt. Velvet and Yatsu cried over a dramatic romance film. Jaune cooked up another stellar tropical dish, and Ren even helped with dessert: vanilla poundcake with fresh strawberries. Blake was especially grumpy during the evening, and Ruby briefly explained what happened.

"Blake showed us a lot of porn, so Weiss and I cream-pied her face."

Yang did not ask any more questions.

The night fell, and one by one, the teenagers retired to their bedrooms. The lights shut off. The conversations grew quiet until they died completely. Eventually, Yang was all by herself. She made a comfortable home for herself on the couch—a pile of warm, fuzzy blankets stuffed into the corner, with a pillow propped against the armrest. There was something adventurous about crashing on the couch that she couldn't quite explain, as if she was roaming the wild, drifting from one place to the next, unfixed in the world. It made her feel young and free after so many months of hardship had forced her into darkness. Plus, the fridge was, like, right there, so that was nice.

She prepared to go to sleep, having brushed her teeth and changed into something more comfortable: short shorts and her new, unapproved Yang Xiao Long T-shirt. She dimmed most of the lights and fluffed out her blanket. She wondered what new adventure she would get up to the next day. Two days of vacationing were done already, and she felt like she had barely started. She wanted to see more of Vacuo, stretch her wings over the welcoming Kingdom. She also wouldn't mind spending more time with Blake, if possible. As she prepared to tuck herself in, she didn't notice the footsteps behind her.

"Hey."

Yang, startled, turned around. She wasn't expecting to see Coco Adel standing on the other side of the couch, nor did she expect to see her without her sunglasses or beret. She had stripped off her makeup and dressed lightly for her sleep, wearing little more than a white tank top barely extending to her thighs. Yang did her best to keep her eyes on Coco's face.

"Oh. Hey."

"Whatcha doing?"

"I was… going to bed. Probably."

"Mind if I sit for a second?"

Yang did not protest. Coco gently relaxed next to Yang's blanket, leaving little room for Yang to go anywhere else. So, she sat down in the corner, mere feet away from her new teammate.

"I had a lot of fun today," Coco explained. "Minus the police and all."

"Yeah, me too," Yang smiled. "It was nice seeing the town."

"And watching you smash things," Coco added. "That shirt looks great on you by the way."

"Thanks! Ruby hates it," Yang said, disgruntled. "She doesn't know good taste."

"I don't know if I'd call it good taste, but it fits you well."

"Well, you are the fashion expert."

"So, I've been told." Coco leaned back slightly. "Any plans for tomorrow?"

"Maybe spend some time with Blake? She seemed pretty annoyed today."

"Yeah, I was wondering," Coco admitted. "I may have heard around that you and her are… an item?"

Yang scratched the back of her head. "Oh! Uh… no. Not really, not anymore."

"But you were?"

"Yeah. Kind of. It's complicated," Yang stated. "Everything with Blake is complicated."

"How come?"

"I don't know if I'm in the position to say that. You'd have to ask her."

"That's very considerate of you."

"Thanks."

Coco kept her eyes firmly trained on Yang, never once breaking away. "So… you and Blake aren't dating. You seeing anyone else?"

That… that was certainly a question. Yang froze as she considered it, realizing the implication. Everything that seemed so unimportant suddenly jumped out at her. Coco's bare legs, the soft way she spoke, the casual compliment, her unwavering eyes…

"I'm… not," Yang said, choosing her words carefully. Was this actually happening?

"Cool. Can I ask you a question?"

Coco's words were gentle despite her confident stare. Yang felt her heart skip a beat. She had to be misinterpreting something. Despite outward appearances, she was abysmal at romance. Blake was her first and only, and that relationship exploded and engulfed everyone around them. She wasn't prepared for something like… this.

"Um…" Yang stammered, trying to maintain her composure. She wondered what Coco thought of her, squirming and blushing under her gaze without having even been asked the question yet. Whatever she thought, Coco just smiled and played it cool. She was always cool.

"Look, I'll be upfront with you," Coco stated. "I think you are really hot."

And there it was. Upfront. Out in the open.

Yang laughed it off. "Uh, yeah! Yeah—I mean, thank you. You too, I guess."

"Thanks," Coco grinned slyly. "And it's kind of shitty you're sleeping on the couch tonight, so… what would you say about maybe crashing with me?" She inched closer. "And if we don't feel like sleeping, maybe we can do some… other things?"

Yang was a mess. A dumb, stammering, embarrassed mess. This was Blake and the nurse's office all over again, except now she didn't have any excuses. How the fuck was her game this terrible? Was it genetic? Were she and Ruby cursed to both be terrible with women? Hell, now that she thought about it, Ruby had a girlfriend. How was sweet little Ruby Rose better at seduction than she was? Coco inched closer again. She eyed Yang up and down like she was hunting prey. Her lips parted slightly. Yang was going to have to make a move. Any move.

But what? This was Coco. Could she really… with her?

Do something.

So, Yang followed her instincts—she leaned away.

"I'm… I'm not sure…" Yang confessed. "This is, well, it's sudden and—"

Coco suddenly leaned away, raising her hands defensively. Her smile didn't waver, nor did her confidence. "Hey, no judgment here. You're allowed to think it over if you want. Not everyone is down for a one-night stand."

She stood up, but before she left, she looked over her shoulder. Yang couldn't help but notice her bare thighs were directly next to her face, and at her angle at the couch, it wasn't hard to imagine what was beneath the hem of Coco's shirt.

"If you ever change your mind, my offer stands. Just remember, it's probably going to be hard to have sex without individual rooms. If you want to hook up, let's do it before the vacation's over."

She winked and sauntered off, every step—every sway of her hips—capturing Yang's gaze. When she vanished from view, Yang let out a deep breath and collapsed onto the couch. Her mind swirled with the choices ahead of her. She did not sleep much that night.