14

Chapter 14 – Jaunabelle

"Don't be caught, she says," Jaune mumbled to himself as he slipped out the dorm room door and into the empty corridor, "don't do anything perverted, she says. Talk about trust issues."

Okay, technically he hadn't helped that impression, he supposed. Plus, he'd kinda been playing when he suggested he was used to walking through the halls of Beacon late at night. He hadn't actually even thought of escaping when the lights went out. For one, he couldn't see in the dark – but more than that, how could he even reach the scroll-checker which opened their door?

But whatever, it would be worth it if the work he did meant she stopped trying to push herself into an early grave. Not to mention that it could save lives too, and even though he hadn't managed to save his own – that was no excuse to stop trying to be a hero.

Well, it was actually a good excuse… most people who died tended to, well… die.

And that was cool – totally their choice and everything, but his had been a little different and he was still around. So that meant he still had a responsibility to protect people. And if this did end up being some kind of Vale-centric apocalypse like Blake kept hinting at? Well, he didn't like the idea of his family being caught up in that.

"Okay… directions. Wow, this place is hard to navigate when you're less than a foot tall." How easy it would have been to just pop out of the figure and float about, but he'd tried that once or twice. When his new form was just a little out of range of whatever kept him anchored to Blake.

Nothing had happened then, and it didn't now - if he was away from Blake, then he was stuck in the bear.

Which raised its own dangers of course. What if something went wrong and he got lost, or stuck? He couldn't die of course, but it raised the question of what might occur if his new body was torn to shreds. Presumably he'd be trapped in one of the fragments until Blake hopefully came close enough for him to release himself, if she ever did… it was a worrying fate.

"One that won't happen, so long as I do things properly… calm down man, bear… thing… me. If I see someone, I just go slack. They'll assume I'm a teddy, and once they leave I can just escape and get back to her." He knew the basic layout of the Academy, not to mention he could just tag along with someone until they reached the cafeteria or a lesson. Getting back to Team RWBY wouldn't be that hard.

It was more the risk of being somehow caught doing things he shouldn't be doing – like moving, or sitting at a computer happily typing away.

Something sounded in the distance, a strange noise accompanied by boots, which had him tuck into a nearby dark corner. The squeaking noise came closer, until in the distance he could see a small metal trolley being pushed by two people, a selection of mops and cleaning fluids upon it. Though he didn't need to breathe, he still let out a soft sigh as he held a furry arm to where his heart might have been. Janitors… of course, made sense that they did their work at night – he needed to stop treating this like some kind of spy movie, no one was patrolling the halls.

In fact, the janitors looked downright bored – chatting between themselves as they travelled on their way. No doubt a route they had taken hundreds, if not thousands of times before. And as the trolley passed his hiding hole, Jaune reached out and hooked an arm around one of the edges, pulling himself onto the bottom of it.

When your legs were only two inches tall, it took a long time to walk anywhere – if he couldn't hitch a ride with Blake, he'd just take whatever was available.

"Heh, onward mighty steeds – take me to the library."

They took him close enough. Apparently the cleaning cupboards were near the cafeteria, and he abandoned ship around that area, tossing himself from the vehicle and rolling across the carpeted floor. The two giants walked on without noticing, still talking about his faunus girlfriend, who was being really stubborn about something or other.

Jaune could relate, really he could.

But stubborn, independent and downright frustrating faunus girls aside, he had a job to do – and as a proud Arc he wasn't about to go back on his word. Call him a fool, but his word meant something, even after death.

Luckily the library doors weren't locked, most of the public areas weren't – and the doors swung open after some hefty pushing. He still didn't have much weight behind him, so actually moving things was a nightmare.

The things you took for granted…

"We meet again my nemesis…" he sighed to himself as he stood before a computer desk hidden away from the main entrance. The terminal was atop the table, which was easily a good three feet off the floor, definitely out of his reach.

With a grunt he leapt up to try and climb the chair, fingerless hands scrabbling uselessly over the cushioned surface as he struggled to find any grip. The world flipped as he fell back onto the floor, staring angrily at the ceiling.

"Okay, we're playing it like that, eh?" Not like some kind of lifeless piece of furniture was going to hold him down! A short hop enabled his arms to reach the chair once more, this time with him throwing his weight forward and trying to kick his stubby legs for purchase. "Hnghhhh!" He grunted as he tried to find some purchase, swinging one leg up to help. "Come on…son… bitch…"

"Never did… like mountain climbing…" he panted once he was atop the chair. A second later he shook his head and stopped breathing entirely. It was weird what things you kept doing, even when you didn't need to. Much like pain, fatigue was something he could no longer feel, and yet he still made noises of distress when he was knocked around – still breathed heavily after exercise.

All just his mind playing tricks on him.

He did kind of miss those things though…

"Now for part two… fuck my life." The table, oh the table… why didn't tables have ladders on them for short people? Taking a few steps back he focused his eyes on the prize before sprinting forward, holding stubby arms out as he leapt towards the table edge, arms slamming into the hard wood as he tried to pull himself up, even as his legs kicked uselessly below the edge.

"Matter over mind!" Jaune grunted as he ignored what his mind told him were aching muscles, and instead continued to pull his small body up onto the hard wood. Now stood on the table he briefly threw his little arms into the air and roared his success. "Jaune Arc conquers the table!"

The computer proved an easier matter. Blake had simply given him the log-in details for her Beacon account, and he was to save anything he found on there. And although his hands were large and stubby, ill-suited for the keyboard, he had nothing else to do for at least five hours – so just patiently took his time slowly spelling things out.

News reports flowed together, through confirmed to suspected raids by White Fang, Torchwick – or sometimes just petty thieves. There was more to the criminal underground that one flamboyant criminal and a terrorist organisation, and dust was easy to transport – and lucrative.

It was hard to find anything Blake hadn't already however, and as the hours dragged on he was frustrated to only be able to save a few interesting snippets into her folders. Better than she might have, perhaps, but it might not be enough to convince her to stick to their deal.

She was stubborn like that.

"Fire starts at abandoned warehouse, presumed arson attack – no reported damage." His button-eyes bore into the screen as he poured over the details. No mention of the White Fang whatsoever… but why would anyone set fire to an abandoned warehouse near the docks?

And more than that… if it were truly abandoned, why didn't the fire spread? Who put it out or contained it?

If they were stealing as much dust as Blake feared they were then maybe the two of them were going about it the wrong way. Finding where the dust was stolen from was one thing, but that only served to point out that there was a problem – something they already knew…

Perhaps instead they should be looking more toward where the stolen dust was going – as in, where it was being stored… an abandoned warehouse by the docks would be a convenient locale, especially if they wanted to ship it off somewhere.

He'd need to tell Blake about it, but that could wait until the morning. Instead he saved it into the perquisite folder before shutting the computer down, noting that it was getting close to four in the morning. Doubtful any students would be up that early, but it was better safe than sorry. With a soft sigh Jaune prepared to leave, tossing himself off the table as he plummeted face-first towards the ground.

"Damn doors, bloody windows," the golden teddy grumbled as it pushed the window to Team RWBY's dorm open and slipped inside. While Blake had thought ahead to leaving the door slightly ajar when they went to bed – so he could slip out. They hadn't put any thought into his return, and once he found himself stuck outside the front door he'd been stumped.

Just sit there? And raise questions in the morning of how Blake's teddy-bear got outside? He could just imagine Ruby's imagination coming up with some horrifying theory of a bear which moved in the night…

Yeah… not good.

Instead he'd gone for the one thing he knew was always unlocked, and the very place he'd found the bear in the first place. That said, getting onto the windowsill hadn't been an easy task.

Especially after he'd slipped and fell a few storeys, a fall which would easily have killed a normal person – but instead just drove him mad as he needed to climb up the gutter pipe again.

He dreaded to imagine what it might have looked like to someone outside. A small furry yellow bear side-stepping along windowsills, before tumbling down into the bushes – then shimmying up a drainage pipe to do it all again.

"You are so not worth it," he groused to Blake's slumbering form as he plodded over to her bed, pausing at the bottom of the mattress as he looked up towards where she lay. A good three feet above him… again.

It took another ten minutes to scramble atop the bed, his little arms tangled in her sheets as he tried to drag himself up the side like a cat might a set of curtains – except he didn't have the benefit of claws. Eventually however he made it, one yellow arm cresting the horizon of her form as he gripped her hair and pulled himself up.

The damn girl just slept through it all, peacefully breathing as he slumped against her back, mentally exhausted.

She must have felt his weight on her, slight as it was, for she shifted and turned over, arms reaching out to grab and drag him in. Jaune rolled his eyes as she crushed him beneath her chin like a cushion, his legs trapped against her breasts.

Oh, he would suffer for this come the morning, he could already tell… Still, judging from the contented sound she made she got something from the contact. Warmth from his fur perhaps, or just something soft to hold onto… either way he would let her have what comfort he could provide, even if she'd no doubt accuse him of things come the morning.

He just wished, as he lay perfectly still and waited for the hours to tick by in darkness, that he could experience any of it.