Sorry for the delay, insomnia doesn't really make the best mood for writing. I had already finished this chapter, but the ones I'm working on right now are being harder than I thought, so I postponed posting for a couple of days. No, I didn't forget about posting it because I was so sleep-deprived, where do you get those preposterous ideas?

Anyway, here's the third part of this dumb little thing I'm cooking up. Have fun.

3. His Legacy

Ruby tied up her corset, questioning why she'd decided on such a complex piece of attire for her outfit. Sure it was practical in combat, to have tight-fitting clothes that wouldn't get in the way of her weapon swings and pirouettes, but at least it could have been something with less straps and knots. It was time-consuming to do it every morning, sometimes she used the school uniform just so she wouldn't have the trouble.

Having finished, she checked herself in the mirror, and threw the red cape over her shoulders, before walking to the exit. Before she reached it, her sister blocked her path with a stretched arm, looking her in the eyes with a stern look.

"Where're you going?"

"I'm meeting Roman in Vale." Ruby responded casually, assuming it wasn't a big deal. Yet, to the overprotective blonde, it was. Yang grabbed her and pinned her to the wall, lowering her voice so no one outside could hear them.

"Rubeo, do you have a crush on Torchwick?"

"WHAT? EW! He's like at least twice my age, Yang, gross!"

"Then why have you been spending so much time with him?" The two had been gathering fairly regularly, at first it was to come up with new revenge plans, but sometimes they just chatted over coffee. Ruby had been surprised at first, but the mobster could actually be quite fun, now that there was no blood-feud between them. And she was learning so much from him, about the secret underworld, how a criminal thought, things that would make her a better huntress. Nevertheless, the brawler found it to be cause for concern.

"You were the one who insisted we got along, I thought you'd be happy..."

"I know, but it's just... you went from hating him to being BFFs with him in no time, it kinda weirds me out. I get that you miss Weiss, but you should get friends your age, not creepy old men."

"Hey, Roman's not creepy! Okay, yeah, he totally is, but he's nice, underneath all that cold bad-boy-who-doesn't-care-about-anyone appearance. Besides, our teammates are gone, Jaune, Ren and Nora went to Mistral, it's not like I have many people available, unless you want me to become friends with Cardin..."

"Dear Oum, no. Fine, you can go. But one of these days we're gonna need to have a serious talk about your tsundere fetish." Yang released her, and the red-hooded stormed out of the room, pretending to not have heard that last remark.

She cleared her head of her sister's antics, and ran to the city, wondering what Torchwick had planned for that day. He had summoned her with a message saying it was an emergency, she just hoped it wasn't trouble.

The mastermind was standing by in the sidewalk, twirling his cane in his hand. He looked at the passersby and tried to imagine what would happen if he shot one of them with the Melodic Cudgel, turning the non-aura-trained jogger into tiny little pieces on the pavement. It would probably be very fun, seeing the faces of fear of everyone around, but the amusement would be short-lived by police appearing and going after him. He decided not to, he was trying to go clean after all, now that he was free from Cinder's influence, apart from petty theft, of course, just to keep the old muscles from losing practice. Besides, the person he was expecting would've never forgiven him for cold-blooded murder, and he wanted to bring to her attention something of the utmost importance, so spoiling the mood was out of question.

As if thinking of the devil, he heard his name being called from the other side of the street. Locating the huntress, he made up his mind while waiting for her to cross over. He had to tell her how he felt.

"Hey, I'm here, what did you want that was so urgent?" She greeted him casually, curious about the reason of their date.

"I think there's something we need to talk about."

"Is anything wrong?" She immediately switched to a worried look, reacting to his odd tone of voice.

"Yeah, actually, it's... that thing you're wearing."

"Huh? Is there a problem with how I'm dressed?"

"Not if you're cosplaying in a weird comic-book convention, but otherwise yes. It's all wrong, the colors and the pieces, ugh, I can't believe you put that on every morning." It felt good to get it off his chest, it had been bothering him for so long. That girl was a fashion trainwreck, she desperately needed a mentor in the ways of style. Luckily, he was more than willing.

But the sniper wasn't taking it as well as he hoped. She was silent, but had an utterly offended look in her silver eyes. Realizing he had been too harsh, he tried to quickly fix his mistake.

"Look, that may have been too far. I just think you could use a makeover, so come on, I'm taking you shopping."

"Okay, but you're paying." She recovered almost too quickly, and a wicked smile crept on her lips. Torchwick figured out she had no real intention of wearing anything he got her, and would just use the trip to milk him dry as payback for his cruelty. She sure was a fast learner on how to be a crook. But maybe some of his lessons would hammer into her head, making it all worth it.

He dragged her through the mall, looking for a shop that fit his tastes. The damned contemporary youth only wanted ripped jeans and hoodies, it was sickening. When the criminal overlord located one to his liking, even if not to the level of his personal tailor (but he doubted Ruby would be ready for that), they walked in and started browsing through the selection of items. Recalling his prior failure at tact, Torchwick opted for a more diplomatic approach.

"So, let's talk about that cape." The huntress immediately gave him an angry look

"Nu-huh, the cape stays. It was a gift from my mother. I'm not throwing it away."

The ginger took the hint and didn't press further. He knew nothing about her family apart from Yang, but the determined tone highly implied there was a strong emotional connection with the cloak. He could certainly understand having complicated attachments to accessories, his new hat looked just like the previous one, but it wasn't the same.

"Hum, that makes things harder. I doubt I can convince you to trade that skirt for something more practical, right?"

"Absolutely, combat skirts are extremely convenient in battle situations." He failed to see how, but decided to keep quiet.

He ran his fingers through the clothes' rack, seeking something that could band-aid the outfit, so to speak. After a few seconds, he located something that was perfect. Well, almost perfect.

"Hey, I need to check something with the store clerk, I'll be right back."

The silver-eyed girl nodded without turning, transfixed in the sight of a hideous pair of boots. Roman cringed as he walked away, affected by the youngster's complete lack of fashion sense. It wasn't long before an employee came into view, a graying old man with squinted eyes.

"Excuse me, do you happen to have this in red?"

"I'm sure we do, sir. May I ask, is it for your daughter? She quite the adorable little girl."

Why not? "Yes, my daughter. A real troublemaker, that one. Keeps finding the cookie jar, no matter how well I hide it."

The shopkeeper laughed, and managed to find the desired article. The ginger thanked him, and shuddered while leaving, nauseated by the cordial exchange. He missed the White Fang, at least those animals knew their place and didn't ask stupid questions.

"So, what do you think?" He approached the girl, and held in his hand the piece he hoped she would wear. It was a blood-red blazer, with slight black highlights on the color. If he couldn't tamper with her current outfit and color scheme, at least that would improve upon them.

There was brief sparkle in Ruby's eyes, gone as fast as it came, but implying she liked it. The student grabbed it and went to the changing rooms. When she came out, she looked like a different person.

The jacket aged her at least another 2 years, giving her a more refined look that a 16-year-old couldn't dream to achieve. It was too large on the sleeves, but it actually fit her nicely. She smiled at his approving expression, and did a small twirl to properly display the combination.

"I think that works very well, do you like it?"

"I do. Maybe your style tips aren't so bad after all!" She shot him a wide grin, despite the obvious slander.

"Good, now let's talk shoes."

The trip had been long and expensive, but rather fruitful. They were sitting at a restaurant table, finishing their meeting with lunch, surrounded by bags. Torchwick's feet ached, but his spirits were high from having a new pupil to who he could pass his legacy of fine style.

"So, Red, is there someone special in your life?" He tried to make conversation, but was met with a skeptical glare.

"Really, Roman? Are we buddies now or something?"

"Oh come on, I'm trying here. And I just spent a thousand lien on you, the least you could do is throw me a bone. So tell me, who are you under that hood?" Ruby didn't argue, looking defeated. She stared longingly at the floor before answering.

"There was... were, in fact. Two girls, but they're gone now."

Are all girls that age lesbians? Is that even statistically possible? Or did I just stumble into a nest of them by coincidence? He brushed off the questions in his mind, and demanded more information.

"Two? I hadn't realized you were such a lady killer. What happened? Did they find out about each other? Because I've been there, and let me tell you it's not pleasant."

"No, nothing really ever happened with either. One of them was Penny. She was sweet, kind and funny... but she died in the tournament because of Cinder." There was bitterness dripping from her words, grief that she still hadn't been able to properly process.

"Oh yeah, the..." He stopped himself just before saying robot girl, knowing that could've come off as mean. "...I heard about that, I'm sorry. What about the other one?"

"Weiss..." The man nearly spat his drink.

"The Ice Queen?"

"She's not like that! She's caring and nice under that cold attitude, it just takes a while to get used to it. But it doesn't matter anymore, her father took her back to Atlas. I'm never seeing her again."

Torchwick stroked his chin, considering what the girl had said. Then, he had a brilliant idea.

"I think I know exactly what you need. You, little miss, need to get your gal back."

"What are you saying?" She appeared confused, both by his attitude and suggestion.

"I'm saying pack your things, because we're going to Atlas."

In case you didn't notice, fashion isn't really my strong suit. I could totally use a mentor like dear-old Roman. Sorry if it wasn't very coherent.

I remain open to suggestions. One person already supplied a good one that I'm giving a shot, hopefully it will work out. It's hard to write Baked Alaska without making it smut. And no, I'm not going to make smut, don't even ask.

And as always, fell free to yell at me in the reviews, or give any form of constructive criticism. See you next time.