Last chapter for this oneshot-turned-threeshot. Poor Weiss.
Also, some people are theorizing that May has a mental disorder or neurodivergent. This really isn't that serious of a fic, guys. I based May's mannerisms at least in part due to Bocchi the Rock and those over the top shy anime girls rather than thinking about serious mental health. That'd be too heavy for a threeshot about Jaune and his overprotective sniper GF.
For anyone interested in making a commission, email me at: storylover543 gmail . com
Weiss had spent exactly twenty-seven minutes making sure Jaune and Pyrrha would be gone for at least two hours. She'd mentioned something about a special combat training session with Professor Goodwitch that she'd arranged specifically for them. It didn't take much for the Professor to agree. Jaune's combat performance was... lackluster at best. The best thing she could say about him was that he was a good meat shield, but that was backhanded praise at best. Pyrrha, of course, chose to go with him out of misplaced pity.
"May," she announced to the apparently empty room, "I know you're watching. It's time." Silence. Weiss tapped her foot impatiently, "Don't make me find you again. You know I can." More silence. Weiss sighed dramatically, "Fine. I'll just go get Jaune and tell him all about our little chat on the clocktower. I'm sure he'd be fascinated to hear-"
The walkie-talkie on Jaune's desk crackled to life, "That's blackmail. Over."
"I prefer to think of it as motivation," Weiss replied smoothly, "Now, get over here. We had a deal."
"I'm busy. Surveillance. Very important. Can't leave my post. Over."
"Your 'post' is probably the tree outside our window, and the only thing you're surveilling is Jaune walking to a training session that he desperately needs." Weiss crossed her arms, "Either you come to me, or I go find you and bring Jaune along for the adventure. Your choice."
A high-pitched squeak came through the walkie-talkie, followed by what sounded suspiciously like someone hitting their head on a branch. Five minutes later, their dorm room window slid open from the outside. May slipped in with the silent grace of someone who'd done this many times before... despite the fact that they were on the third floor. Her beanie was (still) pulled low over her left eye, and she was clutching her walkie-talkie like a lifeline.
Weiss just glared at her, "We have a door, you know."
May shrugged, looking everywhere but at Weiss, "Windows are more secure. Less witnesses. Over."
"You don't have to say 'over' when we're in the same room."
May's visible eye widened in panic, "I... don't?"
Weiss sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. This was going to be harder than she thought, "Let's get to the point. You and Jaune are going on a date."
"WHAT?!" May squeaked, nearly dropping her walkie-talkie. She fumbled for it, clutching it to her chest, "No, no, no! I can't- I don't- That's not- "
"It's happening," Weiss said firmly, moving past May toward her immaculately organized closet, "And I'm going to help you prepare."
May backed up until she hit the wall, her hand already reaching for the window, "This isn't what we agreed to! I thought you'd just... I don't know, make me attend a class or something!"
"That comes later," Weiss said, rifling through her clothes with a critical eye, "But first, we need to address the root of the problem." She pulled out a pale blue dress, holding it up with a critical eye, "And you're certainly not going on a date wearing... that." She made an offended gesture to the sniper's attire. May glanced down at her ensemble, a maroon and brown tracksuit with multiple pockets and utility belts. Perfect for someone whose entire personality revolved around hiding in trees and clocktowers.
"What's wrong with-"
"Everything," Weiss cut her off, "Absolutely everything. Thankfully for you, I'm feeling generous enough to lend you one of my dresses." She held the blue garment out, "Now take off that jacket so I can see what I'm working with."
May's hand went to her zipper, then froze, "I... um..."
"We don't have all day, May." Weiss tapped her foot
Gulping audibly, May slowly lowered the zipper of her jacket and shrugged it off her shoulders.
Weiss' jaw dropped. Her eyes widened. The dress she'd been holding almost slipped from her suddenly limp fingers. Where Weiss had expected a slender, athletic build similar to her own, she instead found herself staring at what could only be described as two watermelons strapped to May's chest. The sniper's previously baggy tracksuit had been concealing a figure that would make even Yang Xiao Long look twice. Did that tracksuit have gravity Dust to hide those, she thought numbly.
"I... they... it's just..." May stammered, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, "It was puberty. Hit me all at once when I was fifteen. It's... It's another reason I got too shy to talk to Jaune face-to-face."
Weiss continued to stare, her brain momentarily failing to process what she was seeing. Then, she looked down at the modest blue dress in her hands, back up at May's chest, and wordlessly tossed the garment aside, "I'm not jealous," Weiss announced unprompted, her voice several octaves higher than usual for no reason whatsoever, "Not at all. I certainly don't feel inadequate in any way."
May blinked in confusion, "I didn't say - "
"Breasts are just useless lumps of fat anyway," Weiss continued, her cheeks flushing pink, "Completely impractical for combat. A hindrance, really. I'm sure you have all sorts of back problems."
"Well, sometimes-"
"Exactly! And they'd just get in the way during complex glyph formations," Weiss barreled on, now pacing back and forth, "Really, I should be thanking my genes for my perfect, streamlined physique. Optimal for a Huntress of my caliber. Yes." May stood frozen in place, clearly unsure how to respond to Weiss' unexpected (yet very justified) rant. Weiss finally stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and turned to face May with forced composure, "Anyway. Clearly none of my clothes will... accommodate your... situation."
"I could just wear my normal-"
"Absolutely not," Weiss cut her off again, "We'll need to go shopping. But first-" she gestured to the beanie covering half of May's face, "-what's with that? Is there actually something under there, or is it just for your whole 'mysterious sniper' aesthetic?"
May's hand flew protectively to her beanie, "Don't touch it!"
"I wasn't going to," Weiss said, taking a step back at May's sudden intensity, "But if you're going on a date, you might want to, I don't know, show your entire face?"
"The beanie stays," May said with surprising firmness, all shyness forgotten, "Non-negotiable."
Weiss threw up her hands, "Fine! Keep your mysterious half-face! But the tracksuit goes, and so does the walkie-talkie."
May clutched the device closer, "But - "
"No buts! You can't go on a date and talk through a walkie-talkie! It's ridiculous!"
"Then I can't go," May said, her voice small but resolute, "The walkie-talkie stays, or I stay invisible."
Weiss closed her eyes, silently counting to ten. When she opened them again, May was still there, still clutching the walkie-talkie, still partially hidden behind her beanie. But there was something in her stance - a vulnerability beneath the awkwardness - that made Weiss hesitate.
"Okay," she said finally, pincing the bridge of her nose,"We'll... work up to that. Baby steps."
Weiss tugged May through the streets of Vale, ignoring the sniper's constant stream of protests crackling through the walkie-talkie clutched in her hand. She'd confiscated it the moment they'd left campus, allowing May only periodic check-ins to prevent another ear-shattering shriek episode. The last thing she needed was a reputation for her team causing public disturbances down in Vale.
"This is completely unnecessary," May said, voice tinny and anxious even without the walkie talkie's distortion, "I can just wear my usual gear. It's practical. Tactical. Over."
"You're not going on a date in a tracksuit," Weiss hissed, keeping her voice low as they navigated the busy sidewalk, "And you're certainly not going invisible halfway through dinner, which I know is exactly what you're planning."
"There's nothing wrong with strategic withdrawals. Over."
Weiss rolled her eyes. At least May had agreed to come along, even if she was constantly checking rooftops and alleyways like they were on some kind of covert mission instead of a shopping trip. Getting her on the airship to Vale had been a challenge in and of itself. May insisted on wearing sunglasses over her visible eye, in addition to her ever-present beanie, making her look less like a Huntress-in-training and more like a particularly suspicious bank robber.
"Here we are," Weiss announced, stopping in front of a gleaming storefront with tasteful window displays, "Chandelier Rose. The most exclusive boutique in Vale." She sniffed slightly, "It's no Snowpetal of Atlas, but it'll have to do."
May froze on the sidewalk, visible eye widening as she took in the elegant mannequins and crystal chandeliers visible through the windows, "I can't go in there," she whispered, voice cracking, "Everyone will stare at me. Over."
"They're already staring at you," Weiss pointed out. It was true - May's combination of tracksuit, beanie pulled low over half her face, and obvious discomfort was drawing more than a few curious glances from passersby, "You stick out like a Beowolf at a tea party. Now come on." Before May could protest further, Weiss grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through the boutique's doors. A small bell tinkled pleasantly, announcing their arrival.
"Welcome to Chandelier Rose," a saleswoman greeted them, her practiced smile faltering slightly as she took in May's appearance, "How may I... assist you today?"
"We need a dress," Weiss stated firmly, "Something elegant but not overly formal. And it needs to be..." she glanced at May's chest with a brief flash of irritation, "...accommodating."
The saleswoman's professional instincts kicked in as she saw Weiss' attire. An expensive customer, "Of course. What's the occasion?"
"A date," Weiss said just as May blurted, "Tactical reconnaissance." The saleswoman blinked, "A date," Weiss repeated more firmly, shooting May a warning glare.
"Wonderful! Please, feel free to browse. I'll be right here if you need any assistance."
Weiss steered May toward a rack of dresses, keeping a firm grip on the walkie-talkie. May was squirming uncomfortably, visibly flinching whenever another customer walked past. Her hand kept twitching toward the walkie-talkie Weiss held hostage, "Stop that," Weiss hissed, "You look like you're about to rob the place."
"Too exposed," May muttered, "No clear sight lines. Inadequate exit routes. Multiple civilian witnesses. Over."
"It's a clothing store, not a combat zone. Of course there are civilians" Weiss sighed, flipping through the dresses with her free hand, "Ah, this one might work." She pulled out a maroon dress with buttons down the front. The fabric looked sturdy, the cut modest enough for a first date but still flattering. Most importantly, it seemed to have room for May's... assets, "Try this on," Weiss said, thrusting the dress at May.
May stared at it like Weiss was handing her a detonating Dust crystal, "Here?"
"In the dressing room," Weiss said, pointing to the back of the store where several elegant curtained booths stood, "I'll wait right outside." May looked from the dress to the dressing room to the door, clearly calculating her chances of escape, "Don't even think about it," Weiss warned, waving the walkie-talkie like a hostage, "I'm keeping this until you're done. Any funny moves and we're going to see just how our little friend here takes a being flung off the CCT tower."
"G-Give it to me! I'll change after I have it!" May reached for it.
"You'll get it back after you've tried on the dress. I know you, May Zedong. The moment I turn my back, you'll shimmy out through the air vent or something equally ridiculous."
May's expression suggested that was exactly what she'd been planning. With the reluctance of someone approaching the gallows, May took the dress and slunk toward the dressing room. Weiss followed close behind, positioning herself strategically outside the curtain. She had no doubt that May would try to slip away given half a chance.
"Everything okay in there?" Weiss called after several minutes of suspicious rustling.
"This isn't going to work," May's muffled voice replied, "The... proportions are all wrong. Over."
"You need to stop saying 'over' in normal conversation," Weiss muttered, "And I specifically chose something with room for your... situation."
More rustling, followed by a string of muttered curses, "It has buttons in the front."
"That's generally how a lot of dresses work, yes."
"No, I mean-" May's voice was strained, "-the buttons are under a lot of... pressure."
Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, "Just do your best. We need to see how it looks. We can make adjustments as we go."
After what seemed like an eternity, the curtain rustled. May stepped out reluctantly, eyes fixed on the floor. The dress was a lovely color against her skin and complimented her hair, Weiss had to admit. The cut flattered her waist and fell to just above her knees. But something was definitely wrong with the front. The buttons strained visibly across May's chest, gaps appearing between them where the fabric was pulled too tight.
Weiss looked her up and down critically, trying to ignore the clash between the elegant dress and May's ridiculous beanie and worn sneakers. Her gaze stopped when she reached the buttons on May's chest. Was that button... shaking?
"Um, I don't think-" May started.
PING!
The top button shot off like a bullet fired from May's own sniper rifle, launched with enough force to create a miniature sonic boom in the quiet boutique. Weiss' Huntress-trained reflexes kicked in instantly. She ducked, feeling the button whiz past her left ear with alarming speed. It smacked against the bench behind her with a crack, ricocheted toward the wall, and proceeded to bounce wildly around the store like a hyperactive pinball.
Ping! Ping! Ping!
Customers ducked. A saleswoman shrieked. The security guard reached for his radio.
And then, in a final act of cosmic mockery, the button completed its chaotic journey by flying directly back toward them... and smacking Weiss squarely in the middle of her forehead with enough force to make her Aura flicker and her head snap back.
The store fell deathly silent.
Weiss stood frozen, a small red mark forming between her eyes, her expression one of perfect, blank shock, "It wasn't my fault," May stuttered, clutching the front of the dress closed while simultaneously trying to make herself as small as possible, "They're just... they're just... I told you the proportions were wrong!"
Weiss' eye twitched. That button alone would cost 3.50 lien to replace, not to mention the potential damage to the store and her dignity. And the potential lawsuit if it had hit a civilian instead of a Huntress with Aura. She forced her lips into what she intended to be a smile but probably looked more like a grimace that'd been beaten into submission.
"We're going to find another dress," she said through clenched teeth, "One without buttons."
This wasn't how Weiss Schnee imagined spending her Saturday afternoon in Vale.
She'd had a plan - a perfect, reasonable plan. May and Jaune would go on their date. May would stop being a social disaster. The invisible teammate nonsense would end. And Weiss could finally enjoy being at Beacon, away from her father's constant pressure and partnered with the Invincible Girl.
But of course, that didn't happen because May Zedong was... well, May Zedong.
"You'll need to maintain visual contact at all times," May had insisted the night before, pacing their dorm room while Jaune was in the shower, "Optimal distance: 50 to 75 feet. Any closer risks detection, any further compromises surveillance quality."
Weiss had stared at her in disbelief, "You want me to spy on your date?"
"Not spy," May had corrected, adjusting her beanie nervously, "Provide tactical support. I haven't engaged in direct social contact in two years. I need backup."
"That's what the date is supposed to fix!"
"I can't go in cold," May had insisted, that edge of panic creeping into her voice that Weiss had come to recognize as the precursor to either May disappearing or having one of her electronic-death-scream episodes, "I need someone monitoring the situation. Providing intelligence. Recommending courses of action."
"So I'm just supposed to be a third wheel?" Weiss had demanded, "Hide in a bush while you two have dinner?"
May's face had lit up, "Exactly! But not a bush. Poor sight lines." She'd pulled out a set of high-tech binoculars from one of her many hidden pockets, "These have a built-in directional microphone. You'll be able to hear everything. And I'll keep my walkie-talkie. If I need advice, I'll call you."
Weiss had wanted to refuse. This was insane. Completely, utterly insane. But May had started trembling, her visible eye darting toward the window (her preferred escape route), and Weiss had known she'd invested far too much into this madness to stop now.
"Fine," she'd snapped, "But this is the last time I'm enabling your... whatever this is."
And so here she was, perched on a bench 53 feet away (May had insisted on precise measurements) from "Brewed Awakening," the coffee shop where May and Jaune were meeting. The high-tech binoculars were disguised as a normal pair, though the directional microphone attachment made them look bulkier than usual. She'd tucked her white hair under a baseball cap and wore sunglasses, feeling utterly ridiculous.
"This is so stupid," she muttered to herself, adjusting the focus on the binoculars, "I'm a Schnee. We don't hide in plain sight to spy on other people's dates."
That was a lie, of course. Her sister Winter had absolutely done reconnaissance missions for the Atlesian military. But those had been for national security, not... whatever this was.
Through the binoculars, she spotted Jaune arriving first. He looked surprisingly presentable - she'd forced him to wear something other than his usual hoodie, and he'd actually managed to find a decent blue button-up shirt and clean pants. He was shifting his weight nervously, checking his scroll every few seconds.
"Target in position," Weiss muttered sarcastically, "Blonde Shield looks like he's about to flee."
Two minutes later, May appeared, walking stiffly toward the coffee shop. Weiss had to admit, despite everything, she'd done a decent job with the sniper's appearance. The maroon dress - carefully selected to have no buttons and extra room in the chest - flattered May's figure without being too revealing. She'd replaced her usual sneakers with sandals that matched the dress nicely.
But of course, the stupid beanie remained firmly in place, covering half her face.
Weiss adjusted the microphone, picking up their conversation as they met outside the shop.
"M-May?" Jaune sounded like he'd seen a ghost. Which, in a way, he had, "Is that... really you?"
May stood awkwardly, clutching her ever-present walkie-talkie, "Affirmative, Jaune. Visual confirmation achieved."
Jaune took a step forward, then stopped, clearly unsure of the protocol for greeting someone you've talked to daily but haven't actually seen in two years, "You look... different."
"Tactical circumstances required appearance adjustment," May replied, falling back on her military jargon. Then, softer, "Weiss helped."
"Well, you look... wow." Jaune was staring at May with an expression of wonder, like he was seeing the sun for the first time. He finally broke into that goofy smile of his, "It's really good to see you again, May. Like, actually see you."
May shuffled her feet, visibly fighting the urge to either bolt or raise the walkie-talkie to her mouth, "Surveillance indicates cafe is at 62% capacity. Acceptable crowd density. Shall we proceed inside?"
Jaune laughed, the sound carrying clearly through the microphone, "Some things never change, huh? Sure, let's go in."
As they walked into the coffee shop, Weiss quickly relocated to a position with a better view through the window. She felt utterly ridiculous, like the world's most uninterested stalker. This was beneath her dignity as a Schnee, as a Huntress, and as a normal human being with better things to do on a Saturday.
She watched as they found a table by the window (May's choice, no doubt - optimal escape route) and settled in. The directional microphone picked up their conversation with surprising clarity.
"So," Jaune started, "Two years as my invisible protector, huh? That's... dedicated."
May's hand crept toward her walkie-talkie before she visibly forced it back to her lap, "Mission parameters required constant surveillance. You have a remarkable talent for finding trouble."
"Yeah, but... why?"
Weiss leaned forward slightly, genuinely curious about how May would answer.
"I..." May's usual confidence faltered, "Strategic reasons. Increased operational security."
"May," Jaune said gently, "We've been friends since we were six. You used to come to my house for dinner every Tuesday. You helped me build a treehouse in my backyard. Then one day, you just... disappeared. I mean, you were there, but not there. I've missed you."
May's visible eye widened, and she glanced out the window - directly at where Weiss was sitting. Weiss ducked slightly, cursing under her breath.
The walkie-talkie at her side crackled, "Ice Queen, requesting immediate tactical advice. Target has expressed emotional sentiment. Appropriate response unclear. Over."
Weiss groaned, pressing the button, "Tell him you missed him too, you absolute disaster. Over."
Through the binoculars, she saw May take a deep breath and turn back to Jaune, "I... missed you too. Being visible is... challenging for me now. But I'm trying."
Jaune's expression softened, "Hey, that's all I can ask for. One step at a time, right? And maybe someday you'll tell me what actually happened two years ago?"
May stiffened slightly, "Classified information."
"Right," Jaune laughed, "Of course it is."
Weiss had to admit, the idiot was handling this remarkably well. She'd expected him to be his usual bumbling self, but he was being patient, understanding even. It was... almost impressive.
As their coffees arrived, Weiss continued her reluctant surveillance. May still refused to remove that ridiculous beanie despite Weiss having caught a glimpse already. No scar or wound, just a perfeclty unblemished face. Not that Jaune noticed. He just looked stunned and then happy to see his childhood friend again. Weiss didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed that his eyes didn't flick once to those useless lumps of fat despite Weiss choosing a dress to flatter the sniper's grotesque figure.
Weiss watched the unfolding catastrophe through her binoculars with a grimace that grew deeper by the minute. This wasn't a date. This was a slow-motion train wreck. Inside the coffee shop, May sat with perfect military posture, her back ramrod straight, hands placed precisely on either side of her mug. She hadn't taken a single sip. Every time Jaune asked a question, she responded with the shortest possible answer, usually in terminology better suited for a mission briefing than a coffee date.
"So, what have you been up to these past two years?" Jaune asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.
"Surveillance. Target protection. Skill enhancement," May replied mechanically. She'd become even more robotic than usual.
"No, but like... what do you do for fun? Do you still like those mystery novels? Remember how we used to read them together in my backyard?"
May's visible eye darted around the room, cataloging exits and potential threats, "Recreational activities minimized. Operational efficiency prioritized."
Jaune's smile dimmed slightly, "Right..."
The conversation lapsed into awkward silence - the third one in ten minutes. May fidgeted with her napkin, folding it into increasingly precise triangles. Jaune took a long sip of his coffee, clearly scrambling for another topic.
"Excuse me," May said suddenly, standing up, "Bathroom break required."
Weiss barely had time to reposition herself before the walkie-talkie at her side crackled to life.
"Ice Queen, this is Beanie One. Conversation parameters failing. Require immediate conversational reinforcement. Over."
Weiss pressed the button with more force than necessary, "Ask him about his family! You've known them forever, haven't you? Talk about something normal, for Brothers' sake! Over!"
"Family status inquiry. Confirmed effective strategy. Implementing immediately. Over."
Weiss watched through the binoculars as May returned to the table, her stride purposeful like she was approaching a combat zone rather than a coffee date, "Jaune," she announced as she sat down, with all the warmth of a military commander, "Provide status update on familial units."
Jaune blinked, "You mean... my family?"
"Affirmative."
"Uh, they're good? Saphron got married last year - I think I mentioned that over the walkie-talkie? My mom keeps asking when you'll visit. Dad's still head of the Militia. He said the offer to teach sharpshooting to the guys is still on the table."
"Excellent intelligence. Processing."
Another excruciating silence followed. Jaune valiantly tried again, "How about your mom? She still making those amazing cookies?"
"Maternal unit continues baking operations. Cookie production uninterrupted." Weiss buried her face in her hands. This was going even worse than she'd anticipated. May couldn't hold a normal conversation if her life depended on it.
After thirty agonizing minutes of watching this disaster unfold, with May excusing herself to the "bathroom" no fewer than seven times to request conversational backup, they finally left the coffee shop.
"That was... nice," Jaune said, ever the optimist, "Maybe we could walk through the park? It's a beautiful day."
Weiss repositioned herself, following at a safe distance as they headed toward Vale Central Park. May walked beside Jaune with at least three feet of space between them, clutching her walkie-talkie in a death grip. Every time a civilian passed too close, her hand twitched toward where Weiss suspected she had a concealed weapon.
The park was bustling with weekend activity. Families having picnics, couples walking hand-in-hand, street performers entertaining small crowds. The moment they stepped through the wrought-iron gates, May's demeanor changed dramatically. Her eye darted frantically from person to person, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid. Her knuckles whitened around the walkie-talkie. She stopped walking entirely, frozen in place like a startled deer.
"May?" Jaune asked, concerned, "You okay?"
"Too many... Too many civilians," May gasped, sounding nothing like her usual confident self, "No clear sight lines. Multiple unknown variables. Tactical disadvantage. I need... I need..."
She looked like she was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. Jaune, to his credit, immediately guided her to a less crowded area, finding a bench partially secluded by trees, "Hey, it's okay," he said gently, "Just breathe. We can go somewhere else."
Weiss's walkie-talkie crackled urgently, "Emergency extraction required! Civilian density exceeding tolerable parameters! Over!"
"For Brothers' sake, May, it's just a park!" Weiss hissed into the device, "Take a deep breath and stop acting like you're in enemy territory! Over!"
Through the binoculars, Weiss saw May visibly trying to compose herself, her chest rising and falling with deliberately controlled breaths. Jaune sat patiently beside her, not touching, just offering his presence, "Operational control regained," May finally reported, both to Jaune and through the walkie-talkie. Jaune gracefully chose not to comment on it. Thank the Brothers Weiss was masking her voice. The last thing she needed was for this to be traced back to her, "Alternative venue recommended."
Jaune considered for a moment, "How about the movies? It's dark, not a lot of people talk, and we can sit at the back if that makes you more comfortable?"
May seemed to consider this, her tactical mind whirring almost visibly behind her visible eye, "Acceptable alternative. Darkness provides cover." They left the park, heading toward the cinema several blocks away. Weiss followed, growing increasingly irritated with every step. This was not how she'd planned to spend her Saturday.
The movie theater was showing some action film with explosions and car chases - exactly the kind of mindless entertainment that might be perfect for this disaster of a date. Jaune purchased tickets while May conducted what appeared to be a thorough security assessment of the lobby.
As they entered the dimly lit theater, Weiss slipped in several rows behind them, keeping her cap pulled low. May had insisted on seats in the back corner, providing an unobstructed view of all exits and other patrons. For a brief moment, as the lights dimmed fully and the trailers began, Weiss dared to hope this might actually work. The dark environment seemed to calm May. Jaune offered her some popcorn, and she actually took a handful.
Then the first action sequence played: a dramatic sniper scene where the protagonist took out targets from a rooftop.
"Completely unrealistic," May announced loudly enough for several nearby patrons to turn around, "That rifle has insufficient muzzle velocity for the depicted range. And his firing position is tactically unsound," Jaune hushed her gently, but the damage was done. May began a running commentary on every tactical error in the film, growing increasingly agitated, "That's not how you clear a room! Amateur technique! He'd be dead in seconds!"
"May," Jaune whispered, "it's just a movie."
"It's dangerous misinformation," May replied, not lowering her voice at all, "If someone attempted that maneuver in the field, they'd-"
A patron two rows ahead turned around, "Can you please be quiet?"
May's eye widened, her hand immediately reaching for what Weiss strongly suspected was a hidden grenade. Weiss tensed, ready to intervene, but Jaune smoothly placed his hand over May's.
"Sorry about that," he called to the annoyed moviegoer, then leaned closer to May, "Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Want to try something else?"
May nodded stiffly, already rising from her seat with military precision. Weiss waited until they exited before following, increasingly tempted to abandon this whole fiasco.
The walkie-talkie crackled, "Cinema operation aborted. Target suggesting nutritional acquisition at nearby establishment. Please advise on restaurant security protocols. Over."
"It's dinner, May, not a covert operation!" Weiss snapped, earning confused looks from passersby, "Just act normal for five minutes! Over!"
They ended up at a mid-range restaurant with mood lighting and tablecloths. Nicer than a cafe but still not fancy enough to need a dress code. Weiss positioned herself at a corner table, pretending to study the menu while keeping the pair in view. May surveyed the restaurant like she was planning a tactical strike, evaluating each server, patron, and exit. When their waiter approached, she subjected him to such an intense stare that the poor man nearly dropped his notepad.
"What can I get you folks?" the waiter asked with a nervous smile.
"What's prepared fresh to order?" May demanded.
"Uh, pretty much everything? Our chef-"
"Unacceptable." May cut him off, "Pre-made items present lower poisoning risk. Kitchen access should be restricted. Who tastes the food before serving?"
The waiter stared at her, "I... what?"
"Places like this make it easy to poison someone," May said matter-of-factly, as if the waiter was the idiot for not realizing, "Nothing is ever pre-made. No quality control. Anyone could introduce toxins at multiple points in the preparation process."
Jaune laughed awkwardly, "She's joking! Huntress humor, you know? We'll have the, uh, special and the pasta. Thanks!"
The waiter backed away slowly. Weiss pressed her face into her menu, mortified on their behalf. This date wasn't just a disaster; it was a catastrophe of epic proportions. Every attempt Jaune made at normal conversation was met with either tactical assessment, one-word answers, or May excusing herself to request assistance via walkie-talkie.
By the time they finished their meals (May had only eaten after forcing the poor waiter take several bites to ensure it wasn't poisoned), Weiss finally reached her limit. She'd spent nearly five hours watching this train wreck, provided countless pieces of conversational advice that May had invariably translated into military jargon, and had nothing to show for it except a mounting headache.
When they stepped out of the restaurant, with May looking relieved to have survived the "high-risk dining environment," Weiss made her decision. She tossed aside all pretense of stealth, marched straight up to them, and watched with grim satisfaction as May's visible eye widened in shock and horror. She frantically slashed at her neck, the agreed upon "abort mission" signal, which Weiss gleefully ignored. She was done with this buffoonery..
"W-Weiss?" Jaune stammered, "What are you doing here?"
"Ending this farce," Weiss declared, crossing her arms. She turned to Jaune, ignoring May's frantic head-shaking, "Jaune, May is in love with you. She has been since you were both fifteen, which is why she turned into a ghost and has been following you around for two years instead of just talking to you like a normal person." May made a strangled sound, her face flushing as red as her hair. Steam practically rose from her beanie, "I am not wasting another day playing stalker for you two," Weiss continued mercilessly, "Deal with this now, because I refuse to continue enabling whatever this is."
Jaune stood frozen, his mouth slightly open. Slowly, he turned to May, who looked like she was contemplating diving into the nearest storm drain, "Is that true?" he asked softly.
May was shaking uncontrollably, her hand clutching the walkie-talkie so tightly Weiss feared it might shatter. After what seemed like an eternity, she managed a tiny, jerky nod.
And Jaune, the absolute doofus, just smiled. That wide, genuine smile that made his whole face light up, "I like you too, May," he said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, "I always have. Why do you think I never complained about talking to a walkie-talkie for two years?"
May's visible eye widened impossibly further.
"You... You do?"
"Of course I do! You're amazing. A little scary sometimes, but amazing!"
May looked like she might faint from shock or happiness or both. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and finally managed, "Target reciprocation... confirmed?"
Jaune laughed, "Yeah, 'target reciprocation confirmed.'"
Weiss threw up her hands in exasperation, "Unbelievable. You two deserve each other." She turned and walked away as the pair began staring at each other with matching goofy expressions, May still clutching her walkie-talkie like a lifeline, Jaune looking like he'd just discovered a new continent, "Hopefully this fixes things," Weiss muttered to herself. Though given May's track record, she doubted anything would ever be normal with their team.
At least she could stop playing relationship counselor via walkie-talkie. That alone was worth the intervention.
Weiss had been naive. Foolishly, stupidly, embarrassingly naive. She'd actually believed that after the disastrous date and her forceful intervention, things would improve. That May would finally become a normal, visible teammate. That the walkie-talkies would be relegated to actual combat situations. That she could enjoy being part of a prestigious Huntsman team at Beacon, free from her father's shadow and partnered with the incredible Pyrrha Nikos.
What a joke.
"Blonde Shield to Beanie One, your tactical position yesterday was impeccable. Over." Jaune's voice drifted across their dorm room, disgustingly fond.
Weiss stabbed her pencil into her textbook with enough force to tear the page.
"Beanie One acknowledges compliment. Your pincer movement was... exceptionally executed. Over." Weiss's head snapped up, catching the smirk on Jaune's face as he cradled the walkie-talkie like it was made of precious gemstones. She glanced at Pyrrha, who was diligently focused on her own studies, either oblivious to or politely ignoring the barely-veiled conversation happening three feet away.
"You two know we can hear you, right?" Weiss snapped, throwing her pencil down, "We're literally in the same room!"
Jaune at least had the decency to look embarrassed, "We're just discussing combat techniques, Weiss."
"Combat techniques. Right." Weiss crossed her arms, "And I suppose May's 'excellent breath control' you were praising last night was also about combat?"
Jaune turned crimson, "That was... I mean, snipers need to... control their breathing to..."
"Save it," Weiss cut him off, "At least May promised to attend classes and team meetings in person from now on, right? That was the deal." Jaune's sudden fascination with a loose thread on his blanket told her everything, "Jaune," Weiss said dangerously, "What happened to our agreement?"
He scratched the back of his neck- a telltale sign of impending disappointment, "Well, about that... May and I talked it over, and she really prefers the current arrangement. It works for her, you know? And I don't mind."
"You don't mind," Weiss repeated flatly, "Of course you don't mind. You're so whipped you'd probably agree if she suggested communicating exclusively through smoke signals and carrier pigeons!" She was almost tempted to call him a simp.
"That's not fair," Jaune protested weakly, "She has... social anxiety."
"She shot Yang in the forehead five times in the cafeteria! Then made fun of her for it!"
"Tactically," Jaune corrected, as if that made it any better.
"She's not socially anxious! She's a brat who hides behind a screen like a dustnet troll!"
The walkie-talkie crackled, "Ice Queen's blood pressure rising to critical levels again. Recommend Blonde Shield disengage from confrontation. Over."
"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Weiss shrieked, lunging across the room. Jaune barely managed to hold the walkie-talkie out of her reach, rolling off his bed to create distance.
"Weiss, calm down!" Jaune pleaded, "May's trying. She came to the strategy meeting yesterday!"
"For exactly eleven minutes, during which she sat in the corner with her beanie pulled down, refused to speak to anyone but you, and then 'tactically withdrew' through the window!" Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to regain some semblance of composure. This was not how a Schnee behaved. This wasn't dignified. This wasn't-
"Beanie One to Blonde Shield," May's voice came through the walkie-talkie, low and suggestive, "Looking forward to reviewing your... weapon maintenance techniques later. Your handling skills have improved significantly. Over."
Jaune actually giggled. Giggled! "I heard your breech-loading speed is getting faster too. Over," he replied, his voice dropping to what he apparently thought was a seductive tone but sounded more like he was suffering from a mild throat infection.
"That's it!" Weiss grabbed her textbooks and stomped toward the door, "I'm studying in the library! Some of us are trying to maintain our academic standing without being subjected to... to... whatever this is!"
Pyrrha finally looked up from her notes, "Would you like some company, Weiss?"
"Yes, please," Weiss practically begged. Any excuse to escape this nightmare.
As they gathered their materials, the walkie-talkie continued its torture. "Your marksmanship's so amazing," Jaune cooed into the device, "I've never seen anyone hit a moving target so accurately. Over."
May's voice came back immediately, "Your shield deployment is getting much more... firm. Over."
Weiss screamed into her textbook.
Over the next week, Weiss tried every strategy she could think of to cope with her team's increasingly disturbing walkie-talkie habits.
She tried earplugs, which proved ineffective against Jaune's tendency to repeat May's messages out loud with that dopey smile on his face. She tried studying in the library, only to have Jaune appear there too, walkie-talkie clipped to his belt, whispering sweet tactical nothings when he thought no one was listening. She tried complaining to Professor Goodwitch, who merely raised an eyebrow and reminded her that team dynamics were to be resolved internally unless they affected combat performance.
She even tried appealing directly to May during one of the sniper's rare physical appearances at team training.
"Could you two at least keep your... conversations private?" Weiss had pleaded.
May had tugged her beanie lower, her visible eye fixed on a point somewhere over Weiss's shoulder, "All communications are coded for security. Improper interpretation is your responsibility. Over."
"You called his moves 'deliciously aggressive' during sparring practice!"
"Tactical assessment only. Over."
It was Thursday night when Weiss finally reached her breaking point. She'd been trying to sleep, exhausted after a grueling day of classes and combat training, when Jaune's walkie-talkie crackled to life, "Beanie One to Blonde Shield," May's voice was barely a whisper, "All-clear for nighttime operation?"
"Roger that," Jaune whispered back, glancing over to where Weiss was supposedly sleeping, "Ice Queen and Red Warrior appear to be in sleep mode. Over."
Weiss kept her eyes firmly shut, breathing evenly, though her blood pressure was skyrocketing.
"Excellent," May giggled, "Wanted to review your performance during today's combat exercise. Your endurance is increasing impressively. Over."
"Thanks," Jaune said, his voice sickeningly sweet, "I've been practicing my thrust-and-parry technique too. What did you think? Over."
"Very forceful. Perfect penetration of opponent defenses. Extremely... satisfying to observe. Over."
"Maybe tomorrow you could show me that special grip you mentioned? The one that provides better... control? Over."
"Affirmative, Blonde Shield. I think you'll find it gives you enhanced sensation when handling your... equipment. Over."
Weiss grabbed her pillow, pressed it over her face, and screamed into it with every ounce of her being. The sound wasn't nearly muffled enough for them to not hear it, but of course, the two completely ignored her.
"Did you receive those special supplies I requisitioned? Over," May asked, her tone making it clear these weren't standard combat items.
"Yeah! The dust-infused ones? Can't wait to test them out. Over." Weiss pressed the pillow harder against her face, wondering if it was possible to smother herself to death.
"Confirmed. Recommend application in circular motion for optimal effect. Over."
"You're the expert. Your hands-on demonstrations are always so... educational. Over."
That was it! Weiss threw off her covers, stormed over to Jaune's bed, and snatched the walkie-talkie from his startled grasp, "LISTEN HERE, YOU HORNY LITTLE MONKEYS!" she shouted into the device, beyond caring if she woke Pyrrha or the entire dormitory, "I DON'T CARE WHAT PERVERTED LITTLE GAME YOU TWO ARE PLAYING, BUT SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!"
There was a long silence. Pyrrha sat up in bed, blinking in confusion. The walkie-talkie crackled, "Ice Queen, we were discussing combat techniques and dust application for weapon maintenance. Over."
"Oh, please," Weiss snarled, "You think I don't know what 'thrust-and-parry technique' and 'hands-on demonstrations' really mean? I've seen enough sitcoms to recognize thinly-veiled innuendo when I hear it!" Sitcoms. Her guilty pleasures alongside chicken wings.
Another silence. Then, to Weiss's utter disbelief, May's voice came back, sounding genuinely confused, "Blonde Shield's sword requires specific thrust techniques to maximize effectiveness. And dust application is standard weapons maintenance. What did you think we were discussing? Over."
Jaune was looking at Weiss with wide, innocent eyes. Too innocent, "Yeah, Weiss. We're just talking about training techniques."
"Arc, your acting sucks more than your combat skills." Jaune winced. Good, "If you think either of you are being subtle, you're more deluded than Blake thinking that wiggling bow is hiding her cat ears." Seriously, she hadn't even changed her last name! "Now, if the two of you don't stop making asses of yourselves, I'm going to find May and destroy every single walkie talkie she has then blacklist her from every store that sells more. Are we clear?"
"Y-Yeah, sure, Weiss..."
"... Understood. Over."
"Good." She pressed the walkie talkie back to Jaune's chest none-too-gently then stomped back to bed. For the next few minutes, blissful silence was their only companion. Weiss' perpetual frown finally dimmed and she felt herself relaxing.
...And then those two animal-brained cretins couldn't help themselves.
"J-Jaune, I'm... I'm inserting the magazine," May's voice cut in, quiet but not nearly quiet enough, "The...The bullets are going in the chamber, Jaune. They're filling up every inch. Oh, I'm about to fire~"
"Do it, May. Shoot it all out."
...
Weiss slowly counted to 1000. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow she'd make May and Arc pay for their insanity. Destroying her walkie talkies like she threatened would be a start, but first she needed to find the right earplugs so May's screeching wouldn't deafen her. After that? Oh yes, revenge would be delicious.
Poor Weiss. Again. Works her ass off to have May stop being a sniper troll and she ends up just having walkie walkie sex with Jaune. She's gonna fucking destroy these two, but the exact methods how will be left to the reader's imagination ;)
Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this one.
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