Click, click, click.

Blake paused, wrote down a number on the pad of paper, then moved on. Every tiny tremble under her fingertips, just like the last. Every near-inaudible sound, just like the last. Her heart matched the speed of the dial, slow and steady - a forced sense of calm in the midst of chaos.

Click.

Her eyes dashed to the number, then she spun the combination in so fast that she hardly registered the final code. The pins slid out of place, the deadbolt followed, and she swung the heavy door open to reveal…nothing.

Puffing a disappointed breath through her lips, she reset the combination and shut the door. She had hardly made it through the first number, however, when Cinder and Emerald sauntered into the room. Usually, she ignored them, but then Cinder dropped a duffel bag onto the table, unzipped it, and emptied a pile of cash from it.

Blake removed her stethoscope in a heartbeat.

"Where'd you get that?"

She dropped her tools beside the safe and joined them at the table, where Emerald sorted the bills by denomination.

"Club Oasis."

Blake stared at them, unblinking, but Cinder just flashed a smug smile and Emerald never stopped counting.

"You robbed a nightclub?" she pressed, her annoyed tone dragging Ilia's attention from the far side of the room.

"Sure did." Emerald held a stack of bills up to her nose, breathed in, and smiled. "Was a piece of cake."

"And who gave you the ok to do that?"

"Adam."

Blake frowned and crossed her arms over her chest as Ilia hesitantly joined them, wanting to see what all the fuss was about while avoiding the fray. And there was about to be a fray. Before Blake vented her displeasure about everything they just said, however, Cinder rolled her eyes and dramatically sighed.

"Relax, Shroud. We didn't even trip the alarm. Imbeciles probably still don't realize their safe's empty."

"And we need a way to get cash while you're planning the credit union job," Emerald piped in.

"Besides…" As soon as Cinder's voice dropped to that sultry tone, Blake's fingers curled into fists. "Shouldn't you be more concerned about your little…side mission?"

"Oh, yeah. How's that going?" Emerald, not sensing the daggers shooting between Cinder and Blake, glanced up before setting another stack of bills aside. "Learn anything good?"

Trapped between wanting to put Cinder in her place but wanting to avoid a full-fledged argument, Blake stared Cinder down for several more seconds before turning away.

"Well, you'll never guess who I met when I stopped by the department yesterday." She waited a second before adding, "Jacque Schnee's daughter."

"You're kidding," Emerald said while Ilia's eyes widened.

"Nope. Any of you know about her?"

"Which daughter is it?" Cinder asked, thankfully playing nice, too.

"Weiss."

"Don't think she's made a name for herself…yet."

That matched Yang's findings, or lack thereof, after several investigations.

"Maybe she will once she marries a cop," Blake added.

"She's marrying a cop?" When Blake nodded, Emerald let out a long, low whistle. "That's a dirty cop."

"You think so?"

Blake frowned at the thought of Ruby possessing a single unscrupulous bone in her body, but Emerald laughed.

"Why else would you marry into that family? It's not like they can coexist." Blake's frown deepened, but Emerald grabbed several stacks of money and stood up. "Imagine the family dinners - 'So…which of my 'associates' did you arrest today?'"

Chuckling, Emerald took the money to the safe they used for extra cash. Ilia, on the other hand, looked at Blake with wide, hopeful eyes.

"She's marrying Ruby?"

"Yeah." Blake paused and then tilted her head. "How did you know?"

"I used to do Weiss' nails - before -" Ilia gestured to the side before smiling. "Ruby's really sweet. She's the one who encouraged me to find something I'm passionate about. I always hoped they'd stay together, but Weiss can be a little…"

"A little what?"

"Well, she never really said much, but when she did…" Ilia blew out a breath. "None of the other girls would work with her because she could be so mean. And she did not like mistakes."

"What would she do if you messed up?"

"She would just…tell you how bad it was. She made most of the girls cry at least once."

"What a bitch," Cinder concluded, though the sparkle in her eyes suggested she just found a kindred spirit. "Supposedly, her dad has an entire safe stuffed with priceless artwork and jewelry. All stolen."

"He's just…hoarding them?" Blake asked. "Why?"

"Because he can." Cinder didn't say 'duh,' but her eye roll might as well have. "I heard it was custom built, too. One-of-a-kind. Engraved his name on the front of it, the pompous ass." Cinder clicked her tongue before smirking at Blake. "Were you invited to the wedding?"

"Yeah, right," Blake scoffed. "I talked to her for three minutes and she does not like me."

"She can smell the crime on you," Cinder teased, though it came out more like a hiss. Adam arrived before Blake snapped back, so she walked away from Cinder without a word.

"We need to talk." Blake waved him over to the side of the room so that they could speak privately. "You need to be careful," she warned him. "The police noticed your limp, and they're searching for it." He frowned - or, more accurately, scowled - when she gestured to his leg. "Is it from the same injury?" she asked, her gaze darting to the scar on his face.

"That's none of your business."

"It will be my business if the cops pick you up because they notice your damn walk." She roughly gestured to his leg again before taking a deep breath and pressing her hands together. "I'm just letting you know that they noticed," she tried again. "So be careful."

He wouldn't say thank you - he never said thank you - so she didn't bother waiting for any measure of gratitude.

"There's something else," she added, diving into the subject that had bothered her ever since Yang brought it up. She motioned for him to wait before rushing to her bag, collecting a sheet of paper covered in words, and returning to him. "I wrote this," she explained while handing it to him, watching his gaze slip across the opening lines. "I think we should release it to the public somehow. Let them know our goals and what we're trying to accomplish."

He read the next few paragraphs, which she had spent hours writing and rewriting as she put her longtime hopes and dreams into words, before shaking his head and folding the page in half.

"It's too early for that."

"'Too early?' How can it be too early?"

"Because we don't have the money to do anything right now."

"I know that, but if we tell people what we want to do, they'll realize that we actually have good intentions and aren't just a bunch of thieves."

Adam considered it - for a second - but then shook his head and returned the pages to her.

"Money first, people second."

The comment struck such a negative chord in her that she opened her mouth to point out how greedy it sounded. Adam didn't give her the chance - he walked away, ending the conversation with the casual indifference he'd perfected over the years. He corrected his gait though - it looked unnatural right now, but he would practice until it became fluid and real.

Cinder and Emerald caught his attention to gloat about robbing a nightclub, but Blake could only watch them for a second before glancing at the words representing everything she wanted to see in the world and, finally, sighing. Maybe issuing a manifesto was a leap for where they were at right now, but she would hang onto it in case the opportunity came up later. In the meantime, she checked her phone and, finding that she had an excuse to leave, packed up her things.

"See you tomorrow, Ilia," she said on the way out, offering a small wave to the only person who hadn't frustrated her today. Ilia waved back before joining the group on the other side of the room, lingering on the fringes yet staying close enough to be involved.

As soon as Blake made it outside, she wiped the interaction from her memory. She had to. Otherwise, she would show up annoyed for her 'date,' and that was the last thing she needed while also contending with fake identities and inconspicuously quizzing Yang for information. She used the bus ride to clear her thoughts and refocus on her objective, which turned out to be fairly easy to do. By the time she stepped off the bus, she felt prepared for whatever the afternoon threw at her.

Then she saw Yang waiting on the sidewalk just ahead, looking like a model in dark blue jeans, and felt like she stepped into another world. She might have the same mind and body, but Shroud and the White Fang didn't exist in this realm. She was supposed to be putting on a mask, yet it felt like she was removing one, leaving her as just a regular girl meeting up with someone she liked.

The feelings were a little too real - especially the butterflies when Yang spotted her and smiled like a sunrise. She was just so radiant. She drew Blake in with that smile, erasing the distance between them like a breeze dusting clouds from the sky.

"Hey," Yang said before sweeping Blake into a kiss right there on the sidewalk in front of a printing company. Like this was normal. Like this was just what they did.

Blake had never formed an opinion on public displays of affection, but she decided right then that she didn't mind them. Especially with Yang, who seemed to live off of physical affection, as she proved by pulling away but letting her hand trail down Blake's arm to intertwine their fingers.

"Hey," Blake finally got to say, smiling at the ridiculous normalcy of it all. Yang beamed back at her, then lightly tugged her hand and nodded over one shoulder.

"Ready?"

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" Blake asked in return, her feet already falling into step with Yang.

"It's a surprise! But don't worry. It's not far."

Blake hummed and looked around with more interest, wondering if she could pinpoint the location of this mystery date before they arrived. This part of Vale attracted more tourists than most, so it could be anywhere from a shopping mall to the riverwalk. An unknown destination typically wasn't her idea of a good time - she planned ahead for a reason - but she was content to let Yang lead.

Walking hand-in-hand with a beautiful girl would be the dream of many, but Blake's brow furrowed when another uncommon beat of silence passed.

"Is something wrong?"

"What?" Yang glanced over but then shook her head. "Sorry, just caught up at work."

"About…your case?"

"When isn't it about the case…" Yang sighed and motioned to the bank across the street - Vale Financial Trust. "I've been trying to work with them on their security - their vault is from the stone ages - but they've been…let's just say they're resistant. If you're still auditioning banks, don't choose that one."

Blake glanced at the bank but quickly refocused on Yang.

"I didn't realize you worked with banks on their security."

"Worst part about this case." Yang ran a hand through her hair and then dropped it to her side with a huff. "I figure the White Fang won't hit the same bank twice, so we're trying to get in front of them. Help the other banks firm up their security. But most of them act like I don't know what I'm talking about."

"They should listen to you."

"They should." Yang chuckled before catching Blake's gaze and smiling. "But I'm here now. No more work."

A voice in the back of Blake's mind said that she should press Yang for details - which banks had she worked with already? What security upgrades had they made, if any? Had she been in contact with Vale Credit Union? - the greater part of her, however, didn't want to think about work either. Work meant Cinder and Emerald and the stupid nightclub. Work meant Adam's emphasis on money before people.

Feeling a scowl creeping onto her lips, she shook her head and glanced around. The sidewalks had widened, offering ample space for pedestrians to enjoy the many attractions crammed within a few city blocks. Yang seemed to be leading them in a particular direction though, towards a grand building with colorful banners hanging between massive stone columns.

"The art museum?"

"Yup! Figured I can prove I'm not just all beauty and brawn."

"Because that's exactly what I was thinking," Blake teased when Yang grinned at her.

"You know what I mean. Time to prove I'm cultured! Or whatever art people call it."

"Snobby?" Blake suggested. Yang's nose wrinkled before an endearing giggle slipped through her lips.

"Yes, snobby. I want to prove I can be snobby." Yang beamed at the term yet still paused just outside the entrance. "We can do something else if you want though."

"Oh, no. I want to meet Snobby Yang."

"Perfect." Yang grinned and held the door for Blake to enter. Yang's warm presence quickly returned to Blake's side, a little closer than before as they moved through the doorway without ever releasing each other's hands. "Ever been here?" Yang asked as Blake marveled at the towering lobby.

"Can't say I have."

The marble floors sparkled as if polished just for their arrival. Crystal chandeliers hung from the tall ceiling, bathing the airy room in a clear glow. An inviting gift shop took up the entire wall to their right while an upscale cafe entertained several groups of visitors to the left. In front of them, a young man sat behind a large reception desk with ticket prices and tour times advertised on a sign above his head.

"Don't even think about paying," Yang said while walking over to the young man. "Two for general admission, please," she said, holding up two fingers before offering him her credit card.

She had held up her prosthetic fingers though, which his gaze returned to no less than three times in a span of three seconds. Yang subtly turned so that her arm was out of direct view, yet that still didn't stop his glances. Fed up, Blake positioned herself between him and Yang's arm. The action forced him to look up and, upon noticing her profound displeasure, cringe.

"Sorry," he muttered toward his workstation while printing the tickets. "Enjoy your visit!" he offered, too little too late seeing as how Blake had already snatched the slips of paper and pulled Yang away.

"You'd think he'd know better…" she muttered under her breath, shoving their tickets at the ticket taker before moving into the main portion of the museum. They had already passed several exhibits before she realized that they were supposed to be enjoying the art, not storming past in ignorance-fueled rage. Only then did she pause and, after glancing at Yang, sigh.

"Sorry…that just…really bothered me."

'Really bothered' was an understatement, but the feeling eased when Yang smiled as if Blake had just done something award-worthy.

"Thank you." Yang kissed Blake's cheek before holding up her prosthetic arm, curling the fingers, and sighing. "I should be used to it by now," she admitted. "But it's just…a thing sometimes."

"It's part of you." Blake slipped her hand into Yang's metal grasp, savoring the cool, smooth metal against her skin. "And it's a part I happen to like, just like everything else about you."

That admission was unnecessary, but she added it anyway, and Yang beamed at her before squeezing her hand and leading them onward. Her annoyance quickly faded, replaced by the all-encompassing warmth and excitement that came with Yang's company.

"Now, weren't you going to show me how 'cultured' you are?" she teased, so Yang grinned and led them to the museum's first wing.

As it turned out, Yang knew an impressive amount about art. While they wandered through halls filled with what Blake considered to be canvases splashed with paint, Yang effortlessly espoused fascinating tidbits: the symbolism in a painting that was just black dots, the innovative techniques of a renowned sculptor, the social context that influenced another artist's brush strokes. She recounted stories of tragic lives, grand aspirations, and unrequited love.

Blake spent the first half hour mystified that Yang could make up such elaborate lies on the spot. Then Yang asked one of the museum docents a question, and the docent was just as shell-shocked as Blake.

"How do you know all of this?" Blake asked after Yang excitedly recited another artist's upbringing along with naming some of their most famous works.

"My mom used to track down art thieves, so I grew up on art heist stories." Yang's hand easily found Blake's as they headed to the next exhibit hall. "I didn't get why anyone would steal a painting, so my mom brought me here and explained all the hard work that went into every piece, and why art is so important to society."

Yang smiled at the next painting - three silhouettes walking towards a sunset - before meeting Blake's gaze.

"It's something I'm weirdly passionate about, I guess. Me and Ruby both."

Learning that Yang had spent such foundational time at this museum with her mother and then decided to bring Blake here left a warm and funny feeling in Blake's stomach. She was honored, first and foremost. But the moment also felt…significant. Like something someone only did with someone they were serious about. Like revealing a piece of yourself that most others wouldn't see, trusting that the person being shown would cherish it.

Staring at the floor, Blake silently told herself not to read into it too much. Maybe Yang just wanted to show off her impressive knowledge of art, which she'd absolutely accomplished.

"Art heists though…" Blake mused. "Does that mean you know how to steal art?"

"Let's just say…if I had the right crew, I'd be dangerous."

When Yang waggled her brow, Blake laughed and said, "Let's hear it then."

"...hear what?"

"How you'd do it."

Instantly enamored with Yang's doe-like expression, Blake motioned to a singular artwork occupying an entire wall. The space alone implied significant value. So did the various security cameras pointed at it and the security guard posted nearby.

"Well, I wouldn't steal that one," Yang huffed. "It's too high profile. Fencing it would be impossible unless you convince a certain Schnee to stuff it in his vault."

"So it's true? He keeps a safe of stolen things?"

"I've never seen it, but I believe it." Blake's brow rose at the corroboration of Cinder's tale, but Yang pursed her lips and led them in another direction. "I'd go for one of the smaller ones," she explained as they backtracked through the museum. "But they have hi-rez cameras everywhere," she pointed one out on the way. "No more grainy videos. If you get caught on camera, the police are finding you."

"If only you had that for the White Fang clip, huh."

"God, don't get me started…"

Blake felt almost guilty for bringing it up when Yang sighed, but Yang brushed off the moment soon enough. Moments later, they stood in front of a small, square painting of a blue vase holding a large sunflower.

"Something like this," Yang concluded. "It's worth a couple mil and small enough that you won't have to lug it everywhere. Getting it out of here will still be a problem though." Yang tugged Blake closer and pointed at the corner of the frame. "Every painting has an individual alarm, and the painting itself is hanging on a weight-sensitive platform. Then there are proximity and motion detectors - anything gets within a few inches, those go off."

"Then there's the guard," Blake added, nodding to the security guard by the exit.

"Guards," Yang corrected, subtly motioning to a man in plain clothes sitting on a bench. He looked very interested in the artwork across from him but, when Blake watched closely, his eyes darted to each person entering or exiting the room. She never would have expected plainclothes security, but Yang must be right.

"Even if you get the painting off the wall without triggering the alarm, you'd have to deal with the RFID tag. It'll be tracking you all the way out of the building. And you'd need some serious black market connections to get rid of it. Unless you want to keep it, which…I don't know many robbers who do that."

Blake pursed her lips while her mind darted through hurdle after hurdle. Proximity sensors, weight-sensitive platforms…all challenges that she had never considered before.

"But making it out of here would be hard," Yang continued unaware. "My mom designed their security - that might've been a while ago, but as long as they kept it up-to-date, this place is a fortress. There's a reason no one's even tried a break-in since she was here."

The moment Blake noticed Yang's proud smile, any desire to conquer this challenge promptly disappeared. Knowing that Yang's mom set up the security, and that Yang's mom was no longer here, trying to break in just felt…wrong. She wasn't interested in stealing artwork, anyway. Fencing it would be an extreme hassle, like Yang pointed out, and she had no desire to approach Jacques Schnee about anything.

"Anyway," Yang eventually said, glancing around before sweeping Blake up in her sparkling gaze. "Hungry? Because I was thinking…maybe we can head back to my place and I'll make you dinner?"

"You cook?"

"Once in a while," Yang replied, chuckling at Blake's surprise.

Blake hadn't come into this excursion expecting to end up at Yang's home, but she had less than two seconds to respond before things got uncomfortable.

"Sure," she said, following her gut rather than her over-analytical brain. "That sounds nice."

Yang grinned as her hand seamlessly reclaimed Blake's - so seamlessly that it was starting to feel weird not to hold Yang's hand - and led her out of the museum. The young man working the ticket booth must have gone home, saving him from one last dose of Blake's ire. They emerged from the grand building in the midst of another typical Vale evening. The surrounding restaurants bustled with patrons now, and traffic snarled the streets as everyone tried to get home at the same time.

"It's just a short walk," Yang explained as they set off together. Blake didn't mind the walk, just like she didn't mind the company or holding hands. She should be pressing Yang for information, but now didn't feel like the time or the place.

They talked about sports, of all things. Blake knew next to nothing about sports, but apparently Yang had placed some bets with coworkers that she really wanted to win. And, as with everything related to Yang, her enthusiasm rubbed off.

By the time Yang led them off of the sidewalk, Blake was seriously considering watching a game just to see what all the fuss was about. Then her focus zeroed in on the well-kept apartment building in front of her. The hedges looked recently trimmed. The front steps were smooth and crack-free. And the clean front door opened into a tidy, if not a little barren, lobby.

"You're ok with stairs, right?" Yang asked, gesturing to the stairwell rather than the elevator.

"Do I not look ok with stairs?" Blake replied, arching her brow.

"I don't know…some girls are weird about their hair getting messed up, or maybe they don't want to get sweaty or trip in their heels or something…"

The longer Yang rambled, the more a smile slipped onto Blake's lips.

"What kind of girls are you bringing home, Detective?" Blake teased before opening the stairwell door and shooting Yang a smirk. Yang, however, stared at her for several seconds before beaming.

"The wrong ones, apparently."

Blake hummed at the answer as Yang joined her heading upstairs. They didn't have far to go - Yang exited on the fourth floor and then walked halfway down the hall. She released Blake's hand only to fish a set of keys from her pocket to unlock the door.

"Here we are," she said, motioning Blake inside.

The moment Blake stepped into Yang's apartment, she liked it. Several strategically placed lamps cast a soft, warm glow. The living room had a plush sofa and two armchairs, plus a neatly organized bookcase featuring an array of books and several framed photographs. There was a television and entertainment center with several stacks of movies. The large window on the other side of the room overlooked the small park across the street. In front of the window, a desk held a laptop and several manilla files stuffed with paperwork. The open kitchen seemed tidy and functional, with several small potted herbs sitting on the sill.

It was peaceful, clean, and smelled like Yang.

"It's nice," Blake said when she noticed Yang watching her. "You're very…neat."

"'Neat,'" Yang repeated with a soft snort of laughter. "I'll take it," she added before heading to the kitchen. "Make yourself at home. I'll start dinner."

Blake glanced after Yang, now rummaging through drawers and cabinets in the kitchen, before taking her up on the offer to explore. The bookcase drew Blake's interest first. There, she found books ranging from adventure novels to law enforcement manuals.

"If you're looking for anything spicy, you won't find it there," Yang called out from the kitchen before chuckling to herself. Blake bit back a smile and moved on to the photographs - one of Yang beaming with Ruby, who wore a full officer's uniform on what looked like graduation day, a family portrait from when Yang and Ruby were kids, and a photograph of a beautiful young officer who looked just like Ruby.

"Is this your mom?" she asked, turning toward the kitchen to catch Yang bobbing her head. "She's pretty," Blake concluded, forgoing the obvious comment that Yang and her mother didn't look much alike. What they lacked in physical appearance, they probably made up for in personality.

Blake glanced over Yang's selection of movies before moving over to the window, where she briefly took in the view before the files on the desk caught her attention. The top one was labeled 'Vale Savings,' so Blake snuck a look at Yang before tilting her head to read the notes scribbled along the tab.

The date, time, and amount of money stolen. Nothing Blake didn't already know. Inside the file, however…

"Do you like salmon?"

"I love salmon," Blake quickly replied, abandoning the desk in favor of joining Yang in the kitchen. When she saw the two fresh filets along with some vegetables and a pot of water boiling on the stove, she arched her brow. "You just…had salmon already?"

"I may have gone shopping hoping I could convince you to have dinner," Yang confessed while Blake leaned against the island in front of her. "You ordered fish on our first date and mentioned it a couple times since, so I figured it'd be a safe bet."

Yang offered an endearing smile before seasoning the fish, leaving Blake with a chest full of butterflies and warm cheeks. The way Yang paid attention to her was flattering and sweet. At the same time…she worried about Yang paying too much attention.

"I can't remember the last time someone made me dinner," Blake admitted while watching Yang expertly move around the kitchen.

"Well, if you're ever hungry, I'm your girl. I'll whip up something in no time."

'Your girl.'

Blake cleared her throat and straightened away from the counter, suddenly searching for something to do.

"Can I help with anything?"

"Uh…you can stir the rice if you want."

Yang nodded to the pot on the stove and Blake gratefully accepted the small task. A spoon already sat on the counter, so she used that to stir the rice bubbling away in the pot. Yang came over to look inside, her hand lightly settling on Blake's hip as she leaned so close that Blake could count the faint freckles on her nose and the flecks of gold in her eyes.

"Looking good," Yang concluded before flitting away. Blake blew out a breath and stared at the bubbling water, knowing that her warm cheeks were from more than just the steam.

Making dinner together was so…domestic. And surreal. Blake robbed people for a living - for a greater purpose, but that didn't change her crimes - and Yang caught robbers for a living. Their work was dangerous, high-stakes, and, in many cases, adrenaline-packed. Yet…they had to eat, and Yang seemed perfectly capable of putting together a meal.

More than capable. She buzzed around the kitchen like a master chef, issuing gentle instructions to Blake and making the rest of the food herself. Before long, everything came together on two plates, which she carried to the small dining table and set down with a flourish.

"Dinner is served," she announced, grinning as she took the seat across from Blake.

"It smells great."

Blake took her first bite and then groaned.

"Good?" Yang asked, watching rather than eating.

"So good." Blake took another bite, which was just as good as the first, and decided that dinner at Yang's apartment was one of the best decisions she'd ever made. "God, Yang," she added, seeing the beautiful girl across from her in a new light. "You have a great job, you're gorgeous, down-to-earth, funny, and you can cook. How are you still single?"

"Oh. Well, I - don't really consider myself single anymore…" Yang smiled sheepishly when Blake froze, fork halfway to her mouth but food no longer on her mind. "No pressure though!" Yang added, holding her hands in front of her as if that might erase Blake's shock. "If you just want to have fun or something, that's fine. Just…let me know?"

Yang picked at her food while Blake stared at her.

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?" she got out, her heart racing faster when Yang finally looked up.

"More like…I want to be your girlfriend, and I want you to be my girlfriend too…if that's something you want."

Due to circumstances that felt beyond her control, Blake had to say yes. At the same time, she wanted to say yes. It was a fantasy, yet she smiled.

"I, um…want that too." A blush rose on her cheeks when Yang started to smile, so she ducked Yang's gaze. She was embarrassed - god, why was she embarrassed when this wasn't even real?

Yang's smile was real though. The sparkle in her eyes was real. Her clear, genuine elation was real.

"Yeah?" Yang beamed when Blake nodded. "Then…cool. That's awesome."

Blake smiled at Yang before seeking refuge in her meal. It felt like a big moment - was it a big moment? It wasn't as if she had time, energy, or desire to see anyone else, but Yang's frequent little glances, coupled with an unflinching grin, suggested that it was big and important to Yang. Yang was happy, and that felt…nice.

But Blake was supposed to do this. She was supposed to make Yang happy so that Yang trusted her, so that she could figure out just how close the police were to figuring her out.

Yet Yang was her girlfriend now. Well, Blake Belladonna's girlfriend. But she was Blake Belladonna. Sometimes. Like right now, as she finished her plate in record time if only to give herself a moment to process what just happened. Yang made small talk about the weather and the color the walls had been before she painted but didn't seem to expect much from Blake's participation outside of a 'really?' or 'no kidding' here or there.

It was a big moment, yet Yang didn't make a big deal out of it. They finished dinner like nothing had happened and then she popped to her feet.

"I'll get this."

She stacked their plates and utensils but, as she headed to the sink, Blake grabbed her elbow, stood up, and pulled her into a kiss. Because Blake wanted to commemorate the moment somehow. Yang's lips on hers was the best way she could think of.

Yang leaned into her and two plates were the only reason they didn't meld into one. Their kiss remained almost comically chaste instead - and somehow sweeter that way. More affectionate, less indecent.

When Yang pulled away and Blake's eyes fluttered open, Yang beamed as if someone just told her that there was no more crime in Vale. Blake's heart warmed as she silently wondered if this was what it would always feel like to be the source of Yang's happiness.

"Hey, so…kind of random, but I was wondering if you wanted to come somewhere with me this weekend?"

"Somewhere…where?" Blake asked, scooting closer to Yang while Yang ran a hand through her hair.

"It's, uh, a soup kitchen. Downtown." Blake's brow rose, so Yang kept talking. "I try to go at least once a month to help out, and it's been a while so I wanted to drop by. And if you wanted to drop by, too…it could be fun."

"You mean you volunteer every month at a soup kitchen…and you're asking me to come with you?"

Blake almost laughed at the sheer, delightful unbelievability of it, but Yang cringed.

"I mean…yes. If you want to - but no pressure. I totally get it if you don't want to."

When Yang held out her hand, looking mortified by the thought of Blake feeling pressured into it, Blake tilted her head.

"Wait. Are you embarrassed?"

"I don't know," Yang admitted. "There's nothing cool or sexy about it, I guess -"

Before Yang went too far down that route, Blake grabbed her by the collar and dragged her into a kiss.

"I happen to think it's extremely sexy," she whispered against Yang's lips. "And I'd love to go with you."

"Yeah?"

God, that smile. It was like granting a puppy's greatest wish and being rewarded with a lifetime of loyalty. When Blake bit her bottom lip and nodded, that smile only brightened. Then Yang set the plates aside so that she could wrap her arms behind Blake's waist to tug them together.

"I'm about to push my luck…" Yang began, her soft eyes drawing Blake in. "I already took up your entire evening and just nabbed your weekend…but I'm about to ask you to stay for a movie."

"And I'm about to say I'd love to stay for a movie."

Yang's smile was so worth it. Like watching a rainbow dash across the sky. Like finding the last digit of a combination. Like watching every piece of a plan fall perfectly into place.

"You know how to make a girl's night, don't you?" Yang replied, kissing Blake's cheek before finally taking the plates to the sink. Blake watched her go, then smiled when Yang quickly returned and led her by the hand over to the television.

"What do you want to watch?" Yang gently directed Blake to sit in the middle of the sofa before grabbing several remotes and settling beside her. "There's that new movie everyone's talking about - something about rich people stealing cars and running from the cops?"

"God," Blake huffed. "Those are so unrealistic."

"Right? What cop gets to shoot people and doesn't have mountains of paperwork to fill out after?"

When Yang scoffed at the thought and browsed through more movies on the screen, Blake narrowed her eyes and snuck a glance at Yang.

"Actually…that sounds fun."

"Listening to me complain about how wrong they get the police?"

"And listening to you in general." Blake paused and, after some silent convincing, added, "But it's not going to make you think about…you know, the White Fang, is it?"

"Pretty much everything makes me think of them these days," Yang admitted, sinking a little more into the sofa. "But it's fine. It'll be more fun with you."

Again, Yang blessed Blake with a smile that could probably convince her to join a monastery, but Yang's attention soon returned to the screen so that she could set up their movie.

"I talked to the president of Vaultex the other day," she commented while doing that. Blake instantly sat up in attention. "They manufacture safes and vault doors," Yang casually explained. "I told him the White Fang got in and out in under ten minutes. He said that's impossible. I told him to tell that to Vale Savings' shareholders." Yang shook her head and clicked on the movie. "I don't know what Wilt brings to the table, but Shroud's a damn fine safecracker."

Blake froze.

"How do you know she cracks the safes?"

"Because she carries the tools." Yang leaned back and grinned at Blake. "Tell you what though - if I'm putting an art heist together, I'm recruiting her. I don't care if she's never dealt with art before - she's one of the best, if not the best, at getting through anything with a lock. I bet museum security would be no problem for her."

Blake knew she was good, but hearing that from Yang…well, she practically glowed from the compliment.

"You're just as good of a detective as she is at cracking safes," she offered in return, but Yang arched her brow.

"You buttering me up or what?" Yang teased before lightly shaking her head. "I haven't proven anything yet."

"You don't have to catch the White Fang to prove you're great at what you do."

"Sure wouldn't hurt though."

Yang chuckled at the thought while starting the movie, and Blake's brow briefly furrowed before she focused on the screen. She would bask in Yang's praise for the foreseeable future, but she wished that Yang could celebrate her own accomplishments, too - and separate from the White Fang. Yang was the youngest detective in the history of the department. She was skilled in hand-to-hand combat. She was beautiful. She was, like Blake already said, the perfect catch. The perfect girlfriend.

And when her arm settled onto the back of the sofa, conspicuously behind Blake's shoulders, Blake bit her bottom lip to hide a smile. The action was so cliche that it almost hurt, yet her heart was already melting.

Ordinarily, she might wait to see how long it took Yang to make the first move. Tonight, whether from the incredible museum tour or delicious meal or their newest milestone, she was feeling quite hospitable. So she leaned into Yang's side and Yang's arm wrapped around her shoulders immediately after.

It was so cheesy. But it was also warm, and a small part of her wouldn't mind staying here forever. In this moment, just the two of them, trapped in this facade of normalcy. She could leave the White Fang, become an actual accountant, and spend her free time with Yang, talking, laughing, sharing incredible food and even more incredible kisses. It wouldn't be such a bad life. It might actually be an amazing life.

What about the rest of the world? What about injustice, inequality?

Those things would just have to wait. For tonight, at least. She could get back to them tomorrow.