Chapter 17

"I'd say I hope you know what you're doing kid," the well-dressed man said as he ushered Jaune into a corridor, "but I think by now it's established you don't." Dim lights flickered overhead, casting the barren hallway into darkness every few seconds.

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," the blond shivered slightly from the cool air, but collected himself – he couldn't afford to show weakness to her, "I'm just here to listen to what she can offer." Roman laughed.

"That's what they all say at first, funny thing is – I've never seen those who refused."

Jaune picked up on the warning easily enough, but by this point he was running out of options. The house of cards he'd been building hadn't collapsed yet, what was the harm in adding a few more layers to it?

"You're on your own from this point kid, good luck and keep safe. Neo will be pissed at me if she loses her favourite toy." The man took a long drag of his cigar, waving through the smoke as he backed off leaving Jaune stood before a closed door alone.

The final threshold as it were, his last chance to back out and do things legitimately. His hand settled on the cool metal handle, though he made no move to open it. Doing things the legal way… when had that ever helped him? It hadn't gotten him into Beacon, it hadn't kept him there – nor helped him make the friends he now had.

The door swung open as he pushed his way inside, blue eyes adjusting to the low light.

"Good morning Jaune," the sultry voice seemed to whisper, "I hadn't expected to see you so soon." She sat on a plush dark leather couch, bare legs crossed as one foot seemed to bob up and down lazily. A flash of light reflected off a piece of jewellery, an anklet that tinkled as it moved. His eyes roved up the long limb towards her face, where eyes of smouldering fire regarded him.

"Cinder," he greeted back as he took a seat across from her, "sorry to bother you, I hope it's not a hassle."

She smiled coyly as she leaned forward, red dress shimmering as she brought forth two crystalline champagne flutes, resting them gently on the table, before producing another bottle of red wine. This again? Sure, he could use the mental fortitude, but it was early in the morning… though perhaps as a criminal who worked nights, this classed as the evening for her.

"Allow me," he took the bottle from her, uncorking it as he poured out two small portions. Her eyes seemed to flicker as she watched him, her warm fingers brushed lightly against his as she accepted the flute, scarlet lips caressing the rim as she sipped.

"A gentleman in this day and age," she teased as she leaned back into her seat, "how very refreshing. There's not many of those in the circles I frequent."

"You've gone out of your way to meet with me; it would be remiss of me not to respect that."

"Intelligent as well, what a delightful combination." The fruity taste filled his mouth as he drank, a warm feeling that settled his nerves as he watched her tongue flick out to lick a single drop of wine from her lips.

"I prefer to think of myself as sensible," he replied as he leaned forward, laying the glass gently back on the table, "when speaking to one such as you, it's only right to be cautious."

"One such as me?" The woman cooed darkly, one finger tracing the edge of her glass as she too leaned forward, her legs disappearing beneath the table between them as her face hovered but a foot away from his own. "Please do tell me what that means dear Professor."

"Only that you deserve respect," he kept his eyes locked on hers, "I would pity a foolish man who tried to stand in your presence, though perhaps they would deserve whatever befell them."

Cinder laughed, the sound rich as she leaned back with one hand before her mouth – eyes lidded in mirth, but still locked onto his as her frame shook. A second later she collected herself, resting the flute back onto the table by his.

"My oh my, someone appears to be pulling out the flattery today Jaune, I dread to imagine what this favour you wish to ask of me is if you're trying to butter me up this much."

Ah, she'd caught that had she? Maybe he'd been laying it on a little thick.

"I don't think it's anything too difficult for you," though considering how she was going about collecting it, chances were she wouldn't want to part with it. "In fact it might even be beneficial to us both."

"You're proposing a partnership?" She asked as her gaze locked onto his, judging. Jaune's breath caught as he tried to think of the correct answer… he didn't want to go in that deep, he still wanted to be a hero – not a criminal.

"You don't strike me as the kind of woman who needs a partner."

There was silence after his words, broken only by the ticking of some distant clock and their breathing as she regarded him. He wanted to swallow; only that he feared it might make too much noise. A slow smile spread across her face, a satisfied one. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Intelligent indeed," she whispered, "you're right of course, I don't need or desire a partner, not every Queen needs a King, and I answer to no one. That said, I'm not above alliances or… deals between friends. Are we friends, Jaune?"

"I would like for us to be friends," he said cautiously, knowing that her definition of friendship was likely different from the norm. Would it make him sound foolish if he suggested they already were, when he knew full well their… acquaintanceship, relied on naught but convenience?

"I would too Jaune," her voice caressed him as she spoke, and his body shivered lightly as something brushed against his leg – her ankle tracing a quick pattern against his shin. "I can be a very good friend."

"I'm glad," he said – more for want of anything to say than for any reason. Damn it, but he wished Roman or Neo could be there to offer some advice. What was he supposed to do? And why did she keep brushing her leg against his and damn it all couldn't his hormones sense the mood here?

"Now Jaune, why don't you tell me what it is you need."

"Dust," he said quickly as he tried to ignore the feeling of her leg against his, "I need large quantities of dust, I have a breakdown of what kinds if you would like to see it?" He waited for her to nod before he dared reach into his pocket, out of fear of how she might react if he'd gone for what could have seemed like a concealed weapon. Her bare leg continued to brush against his while he struggled with his uncomfortably tight jeans, but eventually he was able to push the list across the table to her.

Cinder took it gingerly, slowly reading through it as her brows raised.

"This is… not an insubstantial amount of dust," she said with faint surprise, "I must admit I had thought you meant dust for you personally. But this would be enough to start a small war."

"It's for Beacon," he admitted, not missing the sharp look she sent him. But honestly, what was the point in lying about this? There was no way he could claim the dust was just for him. "For the Vytal Festival, and I'm willing to pay for it."

"For the Festival?" Cinder mused quietly to herself, one finger tapping lightly on the wooden table. "I hadn't expected Beacon to approach criminals on this matter."

"They're not," her head tilted gently at his words, "they have no idea what's going on, I haven't mentioned you at all." She nodded with a smile, leg starting to brush against his once more. "But the SDC are demanding too much for the dust, precisely because of the robberies going on. Beacon can't afford those prices, and without the dust – the Vytal Festival won't even happen."

Her leg, which had been slowly brushing up and down his own, paused. Her fingers going still on the rim of her glass, before barely a second later she continued with both actions.

"That would be a real shame," she said softly, "the Festival is a wonderful event after all. One that brings people together across all the Kingdoms. I'd hate to see it falter."

"Exactly," he said, leaning forward in his seat, "that's why we need the dust, and why I've come to you. I have the money to pay for it."

Cinder nodded but didn't say anything, leaning back in her seat as she closed her eyes. Just in case, Jaune poured each of them another glass and lightly pressed it to her fingers. Scarlet lips quirked into a faint grin as she accepted it, even as amber eyes remained closed. The only sign of her pleasure was the leg that continued to softly caress his own.

He really did wish she'd stop that.

Sort of…

"How much?"

"Five million," this was the moment of truth, the offer which Winter Schnee had deemed too little. And, to his horror, Cinder winced as well – coming from someone who could hide their emotions so well, it wasn't confidence inspiring.

"Is that the best you can do?" The words weren't challenging, not like Winter's had been. Cinder was honestly asking him if he could go higher.

"Beacon can't…" he said miserably, knowing exactly what he was suggesting, even as her smile grew and amber eyes opened to regard him once more.

"But you can," she finished for him, eyes dancing like flames behind her thick raven lashes. "And what do you have to offer Jaune?"

What did he have to offer? He had no idea, he couldn't know what would be the right thing since he still didn't know what she had planned – and clearly she didn't trust him enough to tell. He'd already agreed to acknowledge, or just not call out, any new entrants to the school who claimed to be from Vacuo. What else was there?

"I don't know," he admitted honestly, "perhaps you'd be a better judge."

"Perhaps…" Cinder trailed off as she sipped at her wine. Jaune did the same, breaking eye contact as he looked down into the deep liquid. It was too dark to see his reflection, but he imagined it looked tired. He downed the glass, letting the soothing nectar settle his nerves. He didn't even feel the alcohol, which was probably a bad sign. "I'm sure I could come up with something in the future, providing you're willing to owe me a favour."

"Willing is a strong word," she chuckled at his honest response, "but the Festival needs to go ahead."

"I have a number of companies across the Kingdoms," she tilted her head to one side, flicking hair behind her as she spoke – the action no doubt perfectly designed to draw attention to the delectably smooth skin of her neck. Down to the gentle swell of her breasts. "All are legitimate companies, which I commonly use to secure goods for us, and sometimes to launder money through. One is even a small dust supplier, though obviously not as prominent as certain others. At the very least the records and transactions for such a deal would be nice and clean, even on Beacon's books."

"You'll do it then?"

"I didn't say that," she snapped. Running a hand through dark locks as she sighed. "Please understand Jaune, we're not stealing all this dust to make a profit, I'm sure a man as intelligent as you realises we need it for other purposes. Selling some of it on, even if it's but a small portion, will set us back some time – and what's worse for quite the considerable loss. Five million for this much dust is not particularly generous."

"I realise that, which is why I said this would be a favour and not a business deal." Jaune said as he placed his hands on the table, throwing all his cards down. "I'm meeting with Winter Schnee from the SDC later, but I don't doubt her demands will be even worse."

"The Schnee?" Cinder echoed, "of course, I suppose you would approach the SDC first, and for such an order they would no doubt send their best…" She seemed to consider him for a moment, face unreadable as her finger tapped on the thin glass flute. The soft staccato filling the small room.

He wished he could hear those thoughts, what she was planning and scheming as her vibrant orbs danced behind her lashes like tiny flames. He was selling his soul to the devil, and he knew it. But what other choice was there? For better or worse he found himself genuinely involved in the running of Beacon… it would be so easy to say it wasn't his problem, to let it fall.

But he didn't want to. Beacon was his home now, his job, and in some small way he wanted to keep it that way. Even if it was all a lie.

He had pride in the school, and pride in himself - for perhaps the first time.

"Leave it with me," Cinder said after a few moments, quickly rising to her feet as she placed the glass back down on the table. Jaune rose after her, as she made her way round the table to face him, one hand reaching up to gently touch his cheek. It felt warm, but no hotter than it should – something he was keeping an eye out for now that he knew what she could do. It seemed he was beyond those kind of threats now, or perhaps she was simply in a good mood. "I will consider your offer Jaune, and get back to you, do you have your scroll?"

If he'd been thinking clearer, if his thoughts weren't muddied by how nice her hand felt on his cheek, then he might have considered the stupidity of giving his scroll details out to someone like her. Instead he handed it over as she typed in some quick details, sending herself a message from his so she would have his contact.

"Don't consider this meeting wasted, even if nothing comes from it," she said softly once she was done, leaning closer to him. He could smell the scent of fresh berries and red wine from her, a tantalising and tempting combination. Her hot breath washed over his throat as she embraced him, and one of his own hands settled on the back of her hips. "After all, meetings between friends are never wasted."

~~~~~Professor Arc~~~~~

"Hey, you're alive," Roman cheered sarcastically when Jaune left the room; the criminal was leaning against a nearby wall with a cloud of smoke around his face. He reached across and rapped a fist against Jaune's head, causing the blond to lean back with a wince. "And you still have your soul by the looks of it, good job."

"She hasn't agreed to my favour yet, my soul might still be the cost," Jaune replied as the two made their way down the corridor side by side. "Either way I need to meet with Winter Schnee in like an hour, she's booked a room at the Vale Central Hotel."

The man beside him laughed loudly for a moment, he already knew the basic story from Jaune filling him in en route. Perhaps he shouldn't have, but he honestly needed all the help he could get, and while he didn't exactly trust Roman per se – he was the lesser of the available evils.

"You might want to rephrase that kid, you think I don't realise when someone as rich as her comes to town? She hasn't booked a room – she's booked the hotel."

"That's what I said."

"No," Roman said as he waved his hand before Jaune's face, leaving a trail of smoke to billow back into him. "She's booked the hotel, the whole lot."

"You're… kidding?" Jaune managed between coughs, as he waved his hand to dispel the acrid scent from his nostrils. Honestly, how did Roman put those things in his mouth, they smelled awful.

"I kid you not, the Schnee don't trust easily and there's been one too many attacks from neighbours at hotels in the past. White Fang, jilted employees – criminals who decide to go for the big fish, you name it – they've probably tried to attack a Schnee in a hotel." Roman twirled his cane, stepping before Jaune as he walked backwards in front of the blond. "Not me of course, you don't make it as long as I have by taking silly risks like that – and the same applies to the SDC, they don't make it so long without learning from their mistakes. So not only does she have the hotel to herself, she probably has a whole platoon of guards stationed around it."

"Well luckily I'm not storming the hotel," Jaune shrugged, "I'm invited." Roman's cane struck out towards him suddenly, Jaune managing to move his head away, but it still clanged harmlessly against his metal breastplate.

"You don't look like you're invited, not dressed like that, idiot." He winced as he looked down at himself, forced to concede the point. He hadn't really thought about his clothing, and was in his usual school clothes – complete with steel breastplate and blue coat.

"And dress well, won't you?" Ah crap… way to make a good impression on the person he needed a favour for, damn it.

"I don't suppose you know somewhere I can get some fancy clothes from on short notice, do you? Like one hour short notice?" Roman paused and held his hands wide.

"Do I look like I know where to get the fanciest duds?"

"Damn it… maybe I can check my scr-" Jaune was unable to finish as Roman's cane hit him aside the head, shaking his skull as he rocked back and forth.

"Yes!" Roman growled. "Yes, I do look like I know the best places for fashionable clothes. Seriously, you have no taste. Anyway, we won't need to go out, I've got some spare clothes that might fit you and if not we've always got the stuff the help wears. Anyone who works for me is expected to look crisp and/or fantastic."

"I… I don't think I'll look good in white," Jaune chuckled nervously, "or a bowler hat."

Or eyeliner, though maybe it would be best not to mention that – given the evil glare Roman had fixed on him.

"Yeah, you're not good-looking enough for that," Roman agreed, "Neo, you around!?"

The tiny girl seemed to materialise between them, Jaune flinching back in surprise. She offered a quick wave and a grin, probably the first he'd seen from her in a few days – things had been pretty hectic lately.

"Hey Neo," Roman greeted, "we need to get the kid some fancy clothes for a date." The tall criminal paused as Neo began making wild gestures with her hands. Jaune tried to follow them, only to get lost early on. "Yeah I know," more gestures, "Uh-huh," a few final ones. "Pretty much, yeah."

"You can understand her?" Jaune felt compelled to ask. Neo grinned as she closed her eyes and nodded. Jaune felt a drop of sweat come down his brow as Roman shook his head.

Right…

"How's he doing in training anyway?" Roman asked a second later, "he shaping up okay?"

Neo turned to him as though to consider the point, one finger held beneath her lower lip as she tilted her to the right, then the left, eyes changing colour each time she blinked. A second later, she vanished. Jaune didn't have time to look for her before his world exploded in pain, knees fusing together as he collapsed to the floor, hands latched onto his crotch.

"Ah, still a bit slow I see…" Roman sighed.

"I hate you both so much!"

~~~~~Professor Arc~~~~~

The Vale Central Hotel was a surprisingly simple structure. As though it were comfortable enough in its reputation that it didn't feel the need to boast or demand attention through needless opulence. Built of pale brick in swirling architectural patterns, a pristine set of white steps led up to the glass doors, where two men stood waiting.

Guards or hoteliers, Roman's suspicions filtered into his mind. Either way they seemed to recognise him, or perhaps simply judged him not a threat – for they reached out and pushed the doors open, allowing him entry.

"Good morning sir," a well-dressed man said from behind a wooden desk, his hands resting politely on the dark marble surface. "Are you perhaps waiting for someone?"

Jaune turned to nod at the man, blue eyes scanning the surrounding area. The hotel foyer certainly looked deserted enough to suggest she'd taken the whole thing for herself. That said, there were still several bellboys and staff about. Surely so many wouldn't have been necessary for a single guest.

"I'm waiting for Miss Schnee," he replied, one finger pulling at the white collar of his new shirt, "I have an appointment with her. Professor Jaune Arc, of Beacon." The man seemed to relax upon hearing the name, as he reached over to push some button Jaune couldn't see.

"That is well then Mr Arc, Miss Schnee has made us aware of your arrival and will be with you shortly. If you would like a drink from the nearby bar, rest assured all expenses will be covered."

"Yeah, thanks…" another drink probably wasn't the best option, it still wasn't even noon yet and he'd drunk nearly a quarter of a bottle of red with Cinder. Instead he flared out the tail of his new pinstriped suit and sat carefully down on a nearby seat, leaning back into the comfortable material.

The Hotel didn't look fancy, but they clearly knew quality, for it shone in the tasteful elegance and simplicity. He honestly felt he could fall asleep in the soft leather, and the calming music playing around the foyer didn't help matters.

Ultimately though his eyes snapped open the moment he heard the tell-tale clicking of heels on the tiled floor, just in time to see Winter approaching with a confident smile. She had reason to be, dressed like that. A long evening dress, tightly fit to her body, not enough to show anything – but perfectly fit so as to accentuate everything, from the gentle swell of her breasts, to the full curves of her hips. The dark blue fabric seemed to make her skin glow.

He was suddenly very glad he'd let Roman and Neo dress him up.

"…" was all he managed to say as he climbed to his feet, struggling to keep his eyes locked on hers when there were so many more enticing things below.

"I see I've managed to leave you speechless," she sauntered towards him, one step crossing before the other as her body seemed to sway. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Good to see you Winter," he choked out a second later, even as her smirk seemed to widen, no doubt she was reading his mind, just like most women seemed able to. "You look fantastic." Was he supposed to compliment her, to treat this like a date? Sure they were going for dinner, but it was a business meeting he'd assumed… and while it made sense that she might need to dress up for whatever fancy restaurant she had in mind, it was sending conflicting messages. How formal was he supposed to be, was it a faux-pas to compliment her, should he look to take her arm?

"And you as well Jaune, I'm glad to see Glynda didn't feel the need to keep you under lock and key."

"Glynda trusts in my abilities, as I do hers." He still didn't know what the deal was between them, but Glynda was someone who had looked after him for a while, so while he was happy to do whatever was necessary for the dust – he wasn't willing to let her slander his friend.

"Not quite what I meant," she laughed softly, "I suppose she hasn't gotten as far as I'd thought, such a shame. For her anyway." One gloved hand came out to rest on his sleeve as she gently steered him back towards the entrance of the hotel. "Come now, I've arranged for a chauffeur to take us to the restaurant, we certainly would stand out walking through the streets of Vale like this."

The two of them slowly made their way down the steps, the woman letting out a quick sigh as some nearby members of the public snapped some photos on their scrolls. For his part, Jaune could only keep a straight face and follow, unsure what he was supposed to do or how to go about doing it. Upon reaching the bottom he made to open the car door for her, only to be left standing stupidly when a uniformed man did it for her.

A second man ushered Jaune over to the other side, where he climbed into the fancy car to sit beside Winter, his shiny black shoes looking a stark contrast beside her pale white legs. What was he supposed to do? Sit back in silence as they drove, or turn to engage her in conversation? Why had he even agreed to this madness in the first place?

"Care for a glass before we arrive?" Winter had tilted her body to face him, with one hand on the back of the seat, a crystalline glass of white wine in the other. Even with his limited social graces he realised it would probably be a bad thing to say he'd already been drinking with another woman earlier.

Instead he nodded and accepted the glass, noting that not once did she try and touch him in any way. No furtive caresses or careless touches like Cinder.

"Cheers," he said softly as he held it out to her, the two flutes clinking together delicately as they each sipped. If he was honest he didn't like the taste as much as the red, too sharp, too bitter – it left him wanting to gasp slightly as it flowed down his throat.

"A Mistralean vineyard, atop a mountain bordering the Grimmlands," Winter mused, "I understand they need a constant team of Hunters just to protect the workers. Unsaid was that the wine no doubt cost more than he earned in a year, which made the fact he was drinking it while trying to ignore the taste all the more galling.

"Sounds wasteful, surely Hunters are better served for other tasks."

"Perhaps," she smiled enigmatically, leaving him wondering what she honestly thought of his opinion on the issue, "I suppose they would claim that it matters not where the Grimm die, so long as they are doing their job. People are protected nonetheless."

"And what do you think?"

"What do I think?" The beautiful woman repeated as she tapped her nails lightly on the glass, her icy eyes fixed on his, "Why, I think they make good wine."

"I suppose so…" Jaune spared a brief glance out the window, only to realise since he didn't drive he really had no idea where they were or how close they were. "About the dust the-" One gloved finger pressed against his lips.

"Over dinner Jaune," she whispered as she removed her finger, "and even then, not until after the main course."

"I'd really rat-"

"Tell me about Beacon, how are you finding your time there?"

A quiet sigh slipped from his mouth but he acquiesced to her demands, knowing he needed to stay on her good side where possible.

"Beacon is good," a little crazy at times, but like Glynda had said, he didn't want to give that impression to Winter, "the staff are very dedicated and the students are eager to learn, if a little excitable at times."

And terrifying at others, he didn't add – though a certain blonde girl came to the forefront of his mind. Sometimes they were stressful too, never listening and risking their lives at a moment's notice. This time he imagined two others, though Blake had a stubborn pout and arms crossed. At least Ruby was smiling…

"And I hear you're working as a Student Counsellor, how does that work?"

"I'm mainly there as an aid for the student body," Jaune explained, "sometimes there's… interpersonal issues, that need to be worked through." And Good Lord he still needed to work on Team Raven didn't he? "Sometimes people have problems, and just want a little advice. I do what I can to help."

"Hmm, sounds interesting." Her voice suggested she didn't find it so, and he fought back a wince as he tried to think of a better topic to bring it to. Something separate from Beacon, so he wouldn't feel the need to keep secrets…

"Your sister's getting on well," the words slipped from him in a moment lacking any inspiration, but it was enough for Winter's head to pause, her eyes narrowing in on him.

"Is that so?"

"She's performing very well actually," he tried to recall the actual standings of the students, but all he could really remember was that her homework was the easiest to grade because her handwriting was immaculate. "She also gets on well with her team."

Sort of.

"I had heard she wasn't made leader." He winced at that, briefly thinking back to how angry Weiss had been at the time, and how much trouble that had caused with Ruby.

"Her team's leader is Ruby Rose, she's young, but very talented."

"More talented than my sister?"

"In different ways," he avoided the rather obvious trap, "it was decided that Ruby would be a better leader for the team, and so far she has not proven us wrong."

"Schnee lead, they do not follow."

And now he could finally understand where Weiss' superiority complex came from.

"Well, your sister is Weiss before she's a Schnee. I think she should have the chance to live her own life." Winter smiled at the comment, though there was no real warmth behind it. In fact he couldn't at all tell what she thought of his comment. Whether she appreciated him standing up for her sister, or considered him a fool for his words.

"How is she interacting with her peers?" Winter asked instead. He wondered if she always sounded so formal when asking things, especially when it was something as little as `is my sister making friends`.

"She gets on with her team really well," he answered honestly, "there were problems at first," and here Winter sighed, accurately guessing just who had caused most of the problems, "but now they're very close. Easily the best team in the year."

"That is good, Weiss is… not always the easiest to get along with, but she means well. There haven't been any other issues?"

Other than the White Fang incident with Blake, which he wasn't exactly going to tell someone he didn't trust about, no… though there had been that one thing which had been worrying him for a while.

"Well… there was the case of some people finding her… uh… stash, but I think they're okay about it."

"Her stash?" The older woman looked genuinely confused, which surprised him. He'd honestly thought her own sister would have known.

"Well, she's a growing girl," Jaune stammered as he suddenly realised what he was doing. Sure she was his student, but there was a good chance Weiss would fly off the handle and kill him if he ratted her out to her older sister. Especially for a hobby like that. "It's not unusual per se, it's just that with a fifteen-year-old on her team I was worried…"

"Is my sister taking recreational drugs? Pierre! Turn the car around, we're headed to Beacon!"

"No! Not drugs," he yelped as the car swerved, horns honking behind them, "don't turn the car around – she isn't on drugs!" Winter sighed but held one hand up, and the car slowly pulled back into traffic – this time going the correct way. Her expression said she was clearly waiting for an answer however.

"It's… well, Miss Schnee has quite the uh… collection of reading material, as I'm led to believe." Winter cocked one brow as he coughed nervously, "adult reading material… and toys."

"Oh," the older woman said softly, before looking away as a little heat came to her cheeks, "oh. I can't say I expected that of little Weiss, they certainly do grow up fast."

"It's perfectly normal," Jaune quickly defended the girl, "it's just that… well, her team leader is only fifteen, and her other teammate Blake is quite innocent as well. I'd hate for either of them to find anything, let alone see anything."

"I understand. I'll have a stern talk with my sister when I see her next." He nodded his thanks as the car began to slow down, they apparently having reached their destination. Winter took his champagne glass and lightly rested it on the centre console, as both their doors were opened at the same time – a hand reaching in to help him out.

"Pierre, Franklyn – thank you," Winter nodded to the two, who bowed, "come back around two if you will, we shall be done by then."

"Welcome to Villaire Vale," a young man said once the two had entered the restaurant. Much like the hotel it seemed to focus on practicality and elegance, though from the very way the staff dressed, down to how they acted – he could tell it was expensive. The boy facing him, although he supposed it was ironic to call him that when he was likely around the same age, had the smile of one who was very pleased with his position in life, and that reflected in his cheery greeting. "Miss Schnee, a pleasure to see you again – we have a table prepared for you."

A large central room of tables and chairs constituted the dining area, and Jaune was unsurprised to see various well-dressed guests turn to look at them as they entered. They were the youngest ones there by at least twenty years – barring the staff of course. And more than a few older women glared balefully towards Winter.

More than a few men were giving him equally jealous looks.

Another woman came up to them as they sat down, a white apron over a black uniform as she pulled Winter's chair back for her, the male doing the same for him. While the young man nodded and left, the girl remained.

"Hello, my name is Hazel and I'll be your waitress today," she smiled cutely at them – and had he been with anyone other than Winter Schnee then he might have found himself besotted with her instead. A cute, mousey face, light brown curls that fell around her cheeks and small rimmed glasses. She was a very beautiful young woman, as were all the staff, he soon realised. "If there's anything I can help with please feel free to ask."

"I took the liberty of ordering in advance for you Jaune," Winter paid the girl no heed as she looked at him, "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," honestly it was probably for the best – since this looked like one of those places where the names of the dishes were beyond his understanding anyway. He'd have probably asked if they had chicken nuggets, and promptly been thrown out on his ass.

"And for drinks?" The girl asked, light green eyes flickering.

"Vacuan Desert Rose," Winter rattled off, "a bottle of it if you will." The girl bowed and backed away, reversing at least a few metres from them before actually turning around. Other staff flowed around her without any trouble, the entire restaurant operating like a single well-oiled machine.

"A fine place to dine," Winter commented as she let one finger play on the shiny table, some kind of dark wood that almost looked black, but that was polished to a mirror shine. "There's few restaurants like it in the Kingdoms, even in Atlas."

"I'll have to remember it," he said as his eyes came back to hers, just in time to catch the fleeting edges of a small smirk. No doubt she was thinking how he couldn't afford to… and to his embarrassment, she was probably right.

Anything he might have said was quickly cut off as their waitress returned, laying down two complex and sparkling glasses, which she slowly poured a thick red liquid into. The bottle was then placed between them, though slightly closer to him – no doubt so he could serve it to Winter.

"To productive negotiations," she said as she raised the glass, the words almost taunting in his ears as he once more touched his drink to hers. Vacuan Desert Rose… only something brewed in the desert could be that strong, he'd heard the metaphor for alcohol burning the throat before, but had always thought it an exaggeration. Probably because the only alcohol he'd ever really drunk was overly-expensive ones he'd had with Cinder, and then with Winter herself.

Vacuan Desert Rose was literally like drinking lava, and it burned the whole way down – an almost painful after taste all that remained, even after he put the glass down and took several breaths.

"It's quite strong," Winter teased, and judging by the smirk on her lips she'd been looking for that reaction damn her. Quite strong indeed…

"Speaking of negotiations…" he began, only for her to shake her head once more, this time placing her finger to her own lips. He sighed but accepted it, knowing that if she didn't want to – then she wouldn't speak. Why even bring it up though if she wasn't willing to?

"That will come in time, for now let us just enjoy the atmosphere."

What atmosphere? The dark looks other rich snobs were giving them, the veritable silence which filled the room, as people who were too high and mighty to talk ate in silence? This was hardly the most private of locations, it felt like anyone could listen in and hear every word they said.

"Tell me instead of your recent tussle with Torchwick." She flicked her head back slightly, the bangs over her face sweeping aside for a moment as she regarded him. "What brought you to the docks where a shipment was being made? Did you perhaps have prior information about him?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn't there to stop the robbery," he sighed as he took another smaller sip of the drink. "It was more of a lucky coincidence, I was actually there to try and fix an argument between one of our teams. Torchwick crashed it alone with some Bullheads, and the rest you no doubt know."

"Honest," she laughed as she shook her head, "you know, others might have sought to keep that information to themselves, especially if they were looking for a reward."

Damn it… she had a point there, and he needed every edge he could get.

"I don't see how it matters," he said as he forced a smile to his face, hoping it looked more confident than he felt, "after all, whatever the reason I still prevented a shipment of SDC dust from being stolen."

Winter frowned as she played with her glass, the first sign that he had actually won any ground in their discussion, but it was quickly hidden as she took a drink. As her glass descended once more, her smile was firmly in place.

"The ends justify the means, hmm? I suppose you're not incorrect. It's a view we're very fond of in Atlas, and one that has served us well for many years."

He could see that… both in how Atlas' contribution to the Amity Collosseum was self-serving, but also in how General Ironwood acted. If the word armada meant what he thought it did, then it looked like their approach to Festival security would be… zealous, to say the least.

"This team you were helping, might they have known anything? It seems odd that they might visit the docks late at night…"

"I doubt it," Jaune replied, "not unless you're suggesting your own sister is working alongside Roman Torchwick."

The woman sighed, and he thought he could almost hear her muttering something about Weiss getting in trouble, but he couldn't quite make it out. Either way, he didn't want to give any more on the issue since it might end up biting Blake. While Weiss had clearly forgiven her for the past, he somehow doubted Winter would have that same generosity.

Luckily their first course spared him any further interrogation, as some unpronounceable dish was laid before him, something that looked to be half-fish, half-salad and really small. Honestly the plate was taken up more by artistic slashes of spices, sauces and other condiments. His eyes briefly flickered to Winter as she reached for the smallest of the five sets of cutlery that lay beside her plate, him imitating it.

Really… what was wrong with a single set of knives and forks?

Winter didn't speak as they ate, too polite for such an act, or perhaps simply enjoying her starter. He joined her in that, surprised as to how something so small could feel so satisfying. He did think it might be improved with some vinegar, but since the condiments rack in the middle of the table seemed to have nine different bottles of various shades, he decided to err on the side of caution. Knowing his luck he'd end up with some kind of hot chilli monstrosity.

The girl came back to collect their plates the moment they had finished, smiling beatifically at them as she retreated once more. It was while he was watching her that he noticed a line of other waiters and waitresses, who stood against a nearby wall.

"Each table has a single waiter or waitress," his date explained as she followed his gaze, "to ensure we never have to wait for anything. She will only serve us, for the duration of our visit."

Very expensive… he thought to himself once more as the waitress returned with their main course, a selection of finely prepared meats on a bed of what seemed like pink potato. A further platter was offered between them, a large selection of vegetables which she offered to each of them in turn, expertly selecting the finest and placing them on their plates.

"Tuck in Jaune," Winter urged as she picked up another knife and fork, "we'll move onto business soon after."

And he still had no idea what he was going to do on that front… he doubted she'd be interested in a favour from him. In fact she'd already said the favour she owed him wouldn't cover that amount of lien. He had nothing to offer, other than what she had turned down before.

But then… why did she even set any of this up in the first place? Why agree to meet with him, if she already knew she was going to reject the offer?

The question continued to haunt him, right up until the moment they each settled their cutlery on their empty plates, which were promptly whisked away by their own personal servant. Even then, after pushing for them to begin negotiations so many times – he found himself uncertain on how to even start.

"Beacon's little dust problem then," Winter said instead, taking the opportunity from him as her grin took on an almost vicious quality, "and I think we can both agree this time that it's a problem. Have you been able to find any extra resources to improve upon the last offer our dear friend Glynda made?"

"Not as such," the words sounded weak even to him, and Winter's raised eyebrow said as much, "I was hoping we could perhaps look into some other method of procuring the dust – perhaps a sponsorship deal?"

"The SDC is well-known enough that I doubt we need the Vytal Festival to promote us any further," she replied, "that said we might be able to look at some kind of payment plan for Beacon. We need not demand everything in full at the start." Her finger fell to the rim of her glass, rubbing along the edge, "of course, that would raise the issue of interest."

Not to mention the issue of him having no ideas about Beacon's long-term finances, or how much they could pay… seriously, would it have killed her to raise something like in front of Glynda? Who might have had a better idea of what could and couldn't be offered?

Why choose him, of all people, to try and arrange a deal with?

Unless that was their plan all along… targeting the weakest link…

"What did you have in mind?" Think Jaune, think – he needed some way out of the situation. Something he could offer that might sway her to offer support. What did he have that she wanted?

"Well we could certainly look at a simple extension, a loan perhaps from the SDC to Beacon," Winter gestured with one hand, her fingers tracing some random pattern in the air as her eyes bored into his. "Beacon could pay us back incremental amounts for say, the next three years. Like I said however there would be interest to cover on that, say 30% annual."

"That seems like a lot…" not that he'd taken any loans out himself, but he'd heard radio adverts and seen things on the television, and they normally offered rates between 17 and 20 as far as he could recall.

"We're not a bank Jaune, I'm sure you can understand that our rates would be higher."

Should I accept? Surely Beacon would be able to cover it in future years… the school has to receive yearly funding. They probably wouldn't host the Vytal Festival the next year too… so surely there wouldn't be the same costs…

"If that's still a concern though," she cut into his thoughts as she reached across to rest her fingers on his hand. The motion almost seemed calculated to be comforting, and yet coming from her it came across as almost plastic. "There is something else we might consider… perhaps we could accept the losses if I argued we had come up with a deal to enrich Atlas. After all the SDC is tied in with Atlas Academy, and what benefits the Academy could be seen as suitable payment." Winter leaned back as she chuckled, "and don't worry – I don't mean financial enriching, we could go with something more… cultural."

"Cultural?" Jaune echoed, attempting to distract himself in another glass of Desert Rose. Gods but it felt hot in the restaurant – he just wanted to go back to Beacon and sleep, even if it was only approaching one in the afternoon.

"Some kind of cultural exchange," Winter explained, "it could be used to foster ties between Atlas and Beacon – something I'm sure Ozpin would be all for."

That did sound like something he would like for sure, though if that was the case, why didn't she bring the idea straight to the Headmaster? He didn't believe for a second that she'd just spontaneously thought of it right at that moment…

"What I might suggest is that a team from each school trade places for a few months, learn to live in the neighbouring Kingdom to increase understanding, maybe even build new ties and friendships." That didn't sound too bad… like a student exchange or something, no different from what was already happening around the Vytal Festival. "Of course to help them adapt they could bring a teacher with them, why not extend the cultural exchange in both directions? That would also give an Atlesian teacher a chance to talk about our culture to the students in Beacon and vice versa."

"That sounds good," he nodded. If it would cover the differences in the cost of dust then it was a bargain of a deal, and he was fairly sure Glynda and Ozpin would be fine with it. "Who did you have in mind?"

"I'm glad you like the idea," Winter smiled as she pulled out her scroll, "I've already taken the liberty of selecting the Team we want - here." She pushed the device over the table to him, her eyes following him as he leaned across to accept it.

Five faces stared back at him, four students and a teacher… and he should have guessed which. Team RWBY and himself.

"I'll just have to interrogate him, draw out all his little secrets."

"Your sister's team…" Jaune said after a few moments, stalling for time as he tried to figure out what the cost of accepting might be.

"A coincidence, I assure you," Winter said, which he doubted heavily. Why had Weiss come to Vale when she lived in Atlas? When her own sister was part of Atlas Academy? Had that been a blow to the SDC, and an insult to Atlas itself?

Was he now getting involved in family politics?

"Perhaps we could consider another combination," he tried, only to be cut off as Winter shook her head.

"No. It's RWBY and you, or nothing." The white-haired woman picked up her glass though she didn't drink from it, instead swirling the liquid around inside as the smile dropped from her features. "I've been more than generous with you Jaune, and I do believe you're out of options. What choice do you have?"

What choice…? He had…. he didn't have…

Damn it…

"What will it be Jaune? I will at least be kind enough to give you the illusion of choice."

"I… I gue-" something vibrated in his pocket, causing him to nearly jump out his seat as a loud beeping sound echoed from beneath the table. The woman across from him rolled her eyes but waved at him to take it, no doubt content to watch him stew.

Dear Mr Jaune Arc,

Please find attached the invoice for four million units of Dust to Beacon Academy for the price of 5 million lien. If you would like to go ahead with the order, we will require your signature, stamp of approval from the Head of Finance of Beacon and delivery details.

Please check the breakdown below of dust:

The message continued, lists of types and elements aligned on the message, terms and conditions – how to pay, where to pay – all perfectly official. And at the bottom, a small message.

We thank you for dealing with Autumn Dust Supplies.

Your close and loving friend,

Ashlynn Ember

His fingers shook as a shocked smile, small and weak, slipped onto his face… it couldn't be… yet it was. She'd accepted his offer… it would cost him no doubt, put him further into the debt of criminals, and yet… it wasn't the criminals who would imprison him.

"Good news?" Winter smirked and sipped at her glass.

"Very," Jaune said as he rose to his feet, drawing the eyes of others around them. "I think we're done here."

"Very good then," Winter said as she pushed the scroll closer towards him, "I'll just need your signature he-"

"No," he shook his head, a victorious smile bubbling at the edges of his lips – the very sight of it enough to have her sharp eyes narrowing dangerously. "I mean that we won't be going ahead with the deal, I have a different supplier."

"A bluff," Winter dismissed easily, "no other company can produce dust as affordable as the SDC, they lack the resources. I applaud your strategy of trying to unsettle me Jaune, but I've been in the game a lot longer than you have."

"I'm not bluffing," he laughed as he reached down and finished the last of his drink – the fiery sensation only serving to increase his pleasure. He wanted to laugh out loud, maybe even dance and scream his success. "I'm going to walk out that door, and the SDC will lose out on supplying us for the Festival."

"Then walk out the door," she said with a small smile, "prove it."

Jaune laughed, his control broken as the mirth slipped through. With a less-than-polite nod he turned around and walked away, grinning to the shocked-looking waitress as he passed her.

Don't look back, don't ruin it by looking back.

He pushed the door open with one hand, glancing from the corner of his eye at the expression of surprise on her face.

Fuck, I looked back…

~~~~~Professor Arc~~~~~

Winter watched him leave with a smile, leaning back with her legs crossed. Any moment he would come back, come crawling back with his tail between his legs. The doors swung closed behind him, yet she remained still, a confident smirk in place.

Any moment.

Those moments passed, turning into minutes as time ticked on … five full minutes passed. The smile fell from her face, brows drawing close as she took a long drink.

"Ma'am?" The small voice of the girl who served them sounded from her left. And it wasn't until she saw the embarrassed look on the girls' face that the situation truly dawned on Winter. He had walked away… he'd actually done it. He'd humiliated her so fiercely that even this little slip of a girl dared to look at her with pity and sympathy. "Would you like the bill?"

"I believe I ordered a dessert," the Schnee snapped, as the girl nodded and went to retrieve it. A few restaurant patrons looked at her, patronising and smug - until her sharp eyes met theirs. They turned away, suddenly more focused on their own meals. All wealth and no backbone… like so many others.

She wouldn't be made to flee like an embarrassed child.

The General would be displeased… as would her grandfather. She'd be dressed down for this, she knew. That would be frustrating, though not a big issue. If the General wanted the boy so badly he could do it himself.

Still he'd... beaten her. She'd been defeated at her own game, made a fool of in public and rejected to sit alone like some kind of… needy teenage girl stood up on her date. No doubt she looked the fool sat alone at a table for two, when her partner had up and left her.

Pink lips quirked into a vicious grin as she looked at the door he'd left through.

A man who could not only stand up to her, but defeat her?

How very interesting…

Maybe coming to Vale wasn't such a waste after all.

~~~~~Professor Arc~~~~~

Cinder sighed as she put the scroll aside, running one hand through her hair.

"We're going to have to steal more dust to cover that," Mercury pointed out, though he need not have. Still, to his credit he didn't try to question her or suggest she had made a mistake.

He knew better than that.

"Roman needs to be kept busy anyway and the money can't hurt," Emerald shrugged as she pushed herself up so that she was sat upon a nearby crate, her legs dangling over the edge. "I suppose we should warn him not to attack our own dust shipment though - that would be embarrassing."

"Roman knows his limits," Cinder quickly cut in, quietly enjoying the low opinion her lackeys had of the flamboyant man.

"Still though," the only man in the room whistled, "fancy us being the ones to fund the Festival, can't say I saw that coming."

"Nothing's more delicious than irony," Cinder chuckled as she looked over them both. They would be attending Beacon as just a pair now, with the excuse that their teammates would come later. She'd need to fabricate a fourth to fill the gap, but it shouldn't prove too difficult. "He certainly plays his cards close to his chest however, for a moment I could have honestly believed that this was for nothing more than the benefit of Beacon."

"The Professor?"

"Hmm," Cinder nodded as she played with the edge of her scroll. She still was no closer to understanding his reasons for infiltrating Beacon Academy, and Roman had kept particularly quiet on that front.

Still, what had become clear was that whatever he was after, he needed the Vytal Festival for. Especially if he was willing to go to such lengths to make sure it happened… fortunate for him that she desired the same thing, even if it meant swallowing her pride and giving up four million units of prime dust.

"A small change of plan," her words brought the two to attention, "when we arrive at Beacon you're to act as though you know me only by my position. Work your way into his confidence if you're able, but don't be seen with me outside of classes."

"Yes ma'am," they said in unison. It wouldn't do to let him know who her players were, especially if his aims did prove at odds to her own.

Let us hope you don't make an enemy of me Jaune, she thought to herself as she held her palm up before her face, marvelling at the fire that danced between her fingers, I can be a very poor friend to those who disappoint me.

~~~~~Professor Arc~~~~~

(Omake: From Coeur Al'Aran)

"How could you do this to me, I thought we were friends?" The figure in a sailor fuku gasped, eyes turned towards the one sat upon the nearby desk. "I thought we were friends, but now you've decided to betray me by going after him too!?"

There was no response, how could there be? A complete betrayal of trust such as this was beyond all understanding, enough to ruin friendships and turn family against one another. There could be no response, and yet… the lack of one only seemed like an admission of guilt.

"You won't even say anything?" Hands slammed down on the desk. "We did everything together, I thought we were close! I-I could even have loved you!" Small droplets of moisture splashed on the dark wood, as emotions poured free.

And yet there was still no response.

"I… I see…" a hand brushed the tears aside, a quick sniffle blown into a sleeve, "so we're to be rivals in love, even though we were once inseparable? Is this how it has to be?"

Truly love made a fool of them all… how better it might have been had he not stepped into their life, stepped between two close friends.

And yet history couldn't be changed… and in some small way, neither wanted it to be.

"Unless…" an idea, crazy – perhaps, but… was it cruel to want both love and friendship to survive beside one another? "We could work together… perhaps as a team… all men like that, right?" The two embraced, spinning together as gloom gave way to hope.

"We'll be a two-for-one deal, he won't be able to resist – we'll-" Light flooded the room as the door opened, causing the figure to hiss as they recoiled.

"Ozpin," Glynda sighed as she paused in the doorway, brow quirked as her green eyes looked up and down his fuku-clad form. "What are you wearing, and why are you dancing with your own coffee?"

"Don't listen to her Special-Coffee-Chan!" Ozpin cried out shrilly. "She's a rival for Sempai's heart!"