Blonde Roast, Part 7

Jaune found the information he needed the day after Coco and her team departed.

Her parting words still echoed in his head, and he felt a twinge of emotion deep in his chest every time his mind conjured an image of her face. He'd grown close to her and her team in the past few weeks, though the time had scarcely seemed to pass. Fox's active personality – offering multiple times during his off-hours to take Jaune to the races or the fight club downtown. Yatsuhashi's quiet, almost sage-like protecting of Velvet, who he obviously viewed as a close friend and possibly more; unsurprisingly, Jaune found it difficult to get answers out of the stalwart warrior. Velvet herself was cheery and active as ever; she was even something of a party girl when around Coco.

Besides team CFVY, Jaune's relationship with his own team was better than ever. The weather was beautiful, even in the dead of winter, and not even the looming threat of finals could dampen their spirits. Pyrrha had taken on a position as a teaching aide and was rumored to be bringing up some of the finest first-year trainees in terms of combat prowess.

Ren and Nora found themselves taking trips whenever they had the time out to Forever Fall – Ren claimed they were hunting Grimm, but Jaune harbored the sneaking suspicion that Nora just wanted the red tree sap. And Jaune found himself working the same way he had been. It wasn't a particularly interesting job, but it occupied his free time and he found himself enjoying it.

The day he found the information though, was the day he would forever remember as the time when it started.

He watched the lawyer as inconspicuously as he could when the well-heeled man entered the show and ordered his usual – dark roast, no cream, one sugar. A boring drink for a boring man, or so Jaune had always thought of him. Listening for the right things though brought about a remarkable discovery; there was no such thing as a boring person.

The lawyer sat in a booth by himself and took out his scroll, propping it up with a kickstand and beginning to check his emails. Jaune brewed the man's coffee and declined his coworker's offer to take the drink to the man's table, silently answering that there was no need; he could take care of it.

As he made his way to the table, clutching the steaming to-go cup, he tried to shoot a glance at the man's computer. The lawyer looked up though and his face showed his clear impatience.

"About time," he muttered peevishly under his breath, despite only having been waiting for two or three minutes and Jaune felt a twinge of anger deep inside himself. He didn't normally let his emotions get in the way (at least not anger), but he found himself, as he would later reflect on with horror, hoping that whatever information he dug up on this guy would put him in a hole so deep he wouldn't be able to dig himself out with a backhoe.

That was a problem for later though; in the now, Jaune realized as he closed the distance, he couldn't see what was on that scroll. Whatever it was, the man seemed intent on hiding it, and that told Jaune that it was important.

Time to improvise.

Closing his eyes and preparing himself for what was about to happen, he tripped.

The cup of steaming coffee went flying into the lawyer's lap, and he cried out with a scream of pain and anger that Jaune swore could send a beowolf running.

"Dear GOD, what the hell is wrong with you?!" he screamed and Jaune feigned concern and shock as all eyes in the shop swiveled to the scene.

"I'm so sorry," he said as he hastily pulled out the rag he had (conveniently) tucked into the wasteband of his apron and began mopping the still-steaming brew off the tabletop and seat. The lawyer hissed numerous obscenities as Jaune began trying to clean off the coffee and swatted away his hands.

"Get off me!" he said. "You've done enough." As Jaune stepped aside the man, still in a rage, stormed off toward the restroom, leaving a trail of spattered coffee droplets along the hardword floor. Perfect. He took the bait like a fish. As Jaune took the rag and resumed his cleaning of the tabletop, he shot several unobtrusive glances at the screen of the abandoned scroll.

"Aria,

"No, I don't think Grise expects anything; your ex-husband couldn't find pussy in a whorehouse, do you really think he's going to figure this out?

"You need to quit worrying. Just a few weeks more and then the payments will be finalized. I'll drain your pinhead of an ex of every lien he's made in the last five years and we'll be on that flight to Vacuo before he even gets the news that the deal is done.

"In the meantime, thanks for stopping by last night. If you had told me that you knew how to…"

Oh Jesus, Jaune thought as his eyes finished the email. It made no difference. He had what he needed. Checking over his shoulder to make sure that he was unwatched, he took out his own scroll and hastily took a snapshot of the lawyer's screen – capturing everything he needed in one go. Putting away his scroll he stepped back and made his way back to the counter. Along the way he passed the lawyer, leaving the restroom, and apologized again. The man spat another curse and Jaune found his place behind the bar and dropped the coffee-stained rag into the sink.

He noticed that his coworker on this shift – a plump young woman named Ginger – shot him an incredulous sidelong glance. Her eyes drifted toward the back room. The door was closed and there was no noise from behind it. Jaune couldn't recall Junior coming in since he had been working, but he'd started late so anything was possible. Still, if Junior was there, he would have surely come out when all the commotion started. He silently mouthed "Tell no one," and gave a sidelong smile, his scroll pressing comfortably against his side.

That scroll was knowledge. That scroll was wealth. That scroll was power.

When the deadline came around, Jaune had prepared himself perhaps even more thoroughly than he had before the first meeting. He had printed the picture he had taken on his scroll and enclosed it in an envelope to be left at the dead-drop he had chosen. When the client had come in on the expected day and sat at his usual table, Jaune had disappeared into the back room (vacant, as Junior was out for the day) and scribbled a note to the man, briefly describing the location and contents of the envelope, as well as instructions for payment. The agreed-upon amount was to be left in the same location as the information was picked up from.

Though Jaune would have no way of holding his client to it, he also promised that if he tried to cheat him out of his payment, "The Broker" would know, and punishment would be meted accordingly.

As he dropped the tray with the note and the man's usual drink on the table before him, he returned to counter and took orders as per usual. All the better, he supposed. If the man even began to suspect that Jaune was his contact and not just an intermediary, the blonde barista was sunk. The man merely scanned the note though and took his coffee to-go. Jaune smiled to himself when the man had gone and said a silent prayer that everything went smoothly.

And for the first time in Jaune's life, his prayers were answered.

After closing up the shop that night, Jaune took a detour on his way home. He asked the bus to drop him at a spacious public square, popular with shoppers, walkers, runners and all other sorts of people. At this hour though, the park was abandoned. Perfect.

Jaune made his way to the gnarled old tree where he had left the envelope that morning and, ensuring that he was not being watched, reached into the barely-visible knoll where he had hidden the information. As his hands closed around something plastic, he felt his heartrate accelerate. He slowly withdrew his hand and looked around the square once more before fully extracting the package and examining it in the glow cast by the intermittently-scattered lampposts.

The client had stayed true to his word. Clutched in Jaune's hands was a package that not only would assure him of another year at Beacon, but would leave him enough leftover to buy a small apartment. Twenty-thousand lien in marked, legitimate notes, the multi-colored cards seeming to hum to Jaune in the dim late-evening light.

He tucked the money into his bag and made his way to the bus stop. All the way home he found himself surreptitiously checking over his shoulder every few moments and dubiously watching every other passenger on the bus with suspicion. He didn't think on it at the time, but later he would reflect that it was the money that did that to him. The feeling of having that much wealth - the very idea of how rich you were set your nerves on edge; because deep down you knew that there were people who would be willing to do anything to get their hands on what was yours - what you had struggled to earn! Slowly, Jaune forced himself to calm down. These people weren't trying to steal from him; they didn't even know he had the money. The money...

Jaune found his hand unconsciously sliding to his bag, the very presence of the cash seeming to draw him in. Were others feeling the same thing? Could they feel just how close they were to such wealth?

No, no Jaune, stop! he commanded himself. Calm down - just keep it cool until you get back to Beacon.

When the bus dropped him off and he made his way up toward the university he found himself looking with suspicion at every shadow. Shaking his head he quickened his pace, trying to shake off the doubts and paranoia. When he reached the grounds he made his way quickly to his dorm. Along the way he nearly bowled over Ruby.

"Hey Jaune," she chirped in her usual cheery tone. "Where're you going in such a hurry?"

Jaune tried not to let his defensive tone creep into his voice. "Eh-hm. Uh, nowhere. Where are you going?" Ruby gestured over her shoulder to where Weiss was just emerging from team RWBY's dorm.

"Going over to the library. We were going to make a call to Velvet, if she's on the grid. Say..." she said, regarding him with a bit of mischevious suspicion. Alarms were going off in Jaune's head; telling him to run, that they knew, that they were going to try and take it from him; or worse, tell someone else about it. He quelled the murmurs of discontent as Ruby continued. "You're been getting awfully friendly with team CFVY recently, why don't you come with us?"

Jaune swallowed a lump in his throat the size of an egg and forced a smile, hoping his nervousness didn't show. "Uh, thanks Ruby but I, mhm, I need to spend some time with my team tonight." Ruby and the newly arrived Weiss both regarded him for a moment before Weiss shrugged and moved on without a word, Ruby throwing up her hands in a "suit yourself" sort of gesture and following her teammate.

"Have a good night, Jaune," she called over her shoulder.

"Yeah..." he said, voice falling to a murmur as he made his way into his room. "Goodnight."

His team was asleep and in their bunks when Jaune entered as quietly as he could, slipping out of his clothes and into his nightwear. As he did, he took the bag of money from his pack and pushed it to the bottom of his footlocker, covering it with clothes and old "X-Ray and Vav" comics before closing and latching the metal chest. As he turned and stood he heard a yawn.

"Jaune?" he heard Pyrrha's voice ask sleepily. 'You're late." Jaune smiled regretfully as he made his way to his bed, sitting down as Pyrrha rolled over to face him, sleep still clouding her expression.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Got... held up at work, that's all." You lied to her again. When are you going to come straight? She's your partner; she deserves to know. "Sorry," he said again, lying down and throwing the blankets over himself. In the faint light cast by the moon from the big windows, Jaune could have sworn he saw Pyrrha's eyes dart toward the footlocker. But... no, there was no way. Just a trick of his mind; residual paranoia.

"Goodnight, Jaune," she said; her voice tinged with emotion that Jaune did not understand, at the time, was sadness.

The next morning, Jaune rose before breakfast and took the money, as well as everything he had been saving from working at "The Three Bears" to the office of admissions. He had done the math and counted out every lien he needed to pay for the rest of the year, as well as wipe away the loans he had taken out for the first semester. The woman at the office regarded the money somewhat suspiciously at first, but she recognized the bills as being legitimate and did not pry, which Jaune was thankful for. She tapped a few keys on her computer and smiled at Jaune.

"Congratulations, Mr. Arc," she said. "You've successfully paid in full for the remainder of the year. You should be sure to thank whoever it was who loaned you this money." Jaune gave a wry smile and cleared his throat awkwardly at that.

"Actually ma'am, I earned all this money myself." She cocked an eyebrow, though her amazement (and skepticism) was plain to see.

"Is that so? Well, I won't fault you or your work ethic; it's not easy to make this much money. Good day, young man." As Jaune left the office, he found himself with a new spring in his step. It was over. He was paid. He'd still keep his job at the cafe, because deep in his heart he knew he still had two more years to pay for. But he was ecstatic because he also knew that now he'd have the rest of the year and all of the next to earn the money. He was king of his castle, right now, and nothing could tear it down.

Jaune's castle began its long, painful crumble the next day.

He was at the shop in the evening, wiping down the surface of the bar like he always did in the off-hours when the door chimed. He looked up and was quite surprised to see the familiar figures of the tall man in the white coat and bowler, along with his petite companion moving into the shop with purpose. As they made their way through the half-dozen or so midday loungers, the man in the suit addressed Jaune directly.

"You - where's your boss." Jaune's eyes widened in surprise before he jerked his thumb in the direction of the back room, where Junior was, as per usual, at work doing God-knows-what. As the man made his way into the back room, not even bothering to knock, the tri-colored young woman followed and winked at Jaune as she passed. He felt his cheeks redden as he returned to his task.

Over the course of the next few minutes, he heard numerous curse words and muffled yells emanate from the back room. He didn't know what was going on and he wasn't sure he really wanted to know, because whatever it was it wasn't good. Things came to a head when the door banged open on its hinges and Junior came out, vigorously rubbing his temples with one hand.

"I don't know!" he was saying as the gentleman in the suit and his companion followed.

"Not good enough, Xiong," the man was saying and Jaune was taken aback when he heard the use of his boss's proper name. To everyone - especially his employees, he was just Junior. "I know what's going on, and you know more than you're telling me, so why don't we just cut the crap and sort this all out like the respectable businessmen we both are?"

Junior rounded on the man with surprising speed, eyes ablaze. "I have told you time and time again Torchwick, I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't had any dealings out of this place since you visited me a few months ago - least of all transactions that paid with your money!" Jaune felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach, but he forced himself to not allow his emotion to show as he and the rest of the shop's patrons watched the confrontation unfold. There was no way. How...?

"Let me go over the facts for you once last time," Torchwick said, closing the gap between himself and the much-taller man, though he showed no sign of backing down. His hand still rested casually on the hooked cane he always carried, his companion was watching with equal parts vigilance and bemusement and when the well-heeled ginger spoke again, his quiet voice carried the same note of intensity.

"A man stole from me recently. When I caught up to him, he told me that recently he came in here, looking for information. He had picked up your name online and needed help getting info - that's just fine, I'm not here to tell you how to do business. But when that little rat took my money and used it to pay for services rendered, that is something I will not abide. Now, I'm twenty-thousand lien in the hole and I want some goddamn answers, or so help me I will burn your little business venture here to ashes and smoke them with a glass of wine - you hear me?"

"Oh yeah," Junior said. "I hear you, now make sure you can heat me. I didn't 'render service' to anyone who contacted me. I've gotten dozens of messages asking for information but I never handle the transactions in person, or if I do I take care of it downtown, not here. Aside from your last visit, this has been a place of legitimate business and I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. I haven't sold info to anyone out of this shop, not for twenty lien, not for twenty-thousand lien. Get it?"

Jaune's inner monologue at this moment could be summarized with a heavy use of profanity and numerous forceful mental kicks, but he forced himself to watch the unfolding spectacle and bit his lip as he truly began to grasp what he had done. As Torchwick took a step back and regarded Junior coolly, he reached into his coat and withdrew a cigar and lighter.

He took a long drag and looked around the shop, as though he was sizing it up for renovation. He blew the smoke out and snapped his fingers at his companion, gesturing to the door as he made his way out. As he passed Junior, Jaune saw him lean in and whisper one final remark. Though the words were unclear, Jaune saw Junior's fists clench in anger as he turned and watched the swaggering accuser exit the shop, stopping at the door to drop a bit of ash onto the carpet.

When he was gone, Jaune let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He briefly made eye contact with Junior as the enraged mobster made his way back to his office.

"Get all these people out of here and take the rest of the night off," he said bitterly. Then he disappeared into the back room, door slamming behind him, and Jaune was left to ponder the question that had filled his mind ever since the argument began.

What have I started?

AN - Whew! So that was chapter seven, and HOLY HELL THE SHIT IS ABOUT TO HIT THE FAN HARD. I apologize for the long wait but I struggled a bit on bringing this chapter into being, before finally sitting down last night and redoing pretty much everything I had done for this part. Thus explains the long wait and the longer chapter itself, which I hope you can forgive and understand.

That said, things are reaching a climax very quickly. We finally understand just how severe the consequences for Jaune's actions can potentially be, and the next couple of chapters will see the events he has set in motion come to pass (for better or worse).

I imagine this will be the third-to-last chapter of Blonde Roast, as I'm on the track to my endgame now. Expect lots more drama in the next couple episodes, as well as some closure to the Jaune x Coco romance arc (see what I did there?). Until then, please provide feedback, favs, follows and reviews, and thanks for reading!