Disclaimer: A-rav and I do not own RWBY, and if we did White Rose and Bumblebee would become canon.

A/N: Hey there people I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I'm sorry it took me so long. Summer laziness hit me like a truck, haha. I'd like to thank Elfenlied1012 a whole bunch for basically editing this chapter for me and giving me some awesome ideas! Seriously, go check out the Vale series, especially Autumn Vale! Plus A-rav totally had to make my lazy butt write, so thank him for this chapter not being delayed another month or two! Have fun and thanks for reading!

-LazyKatze

The inside of the car flickered between light and dark as it zoomed by the streetlights littering the populated city road. The metropolitan jungle was awe inspiring at night, the shadows accenting the closeness of buildings, the lit up interiors giving glimpses to entirely different lives, and the people bustling about exemplifying the city's diverse population. The sun had long since set, but the streets around Weiss and Yang were still as, if not busier, than early on that day. When the sun had slipped over the horizon the heat had disappeared with it, releasing the folks who had secluded themselves inside in order to hide from the hot weather.

The engine of Weiss's car hummed loudly as she drove down Main Street,Vale. Yang sat nestled in the passenger's seat, her hand absentmindedly rubbing the eight little black bumps of stitches trailing down from her shoulder. She was lucky, or unlucky depending on how you looked at it, because while the knife had still cut rather deep the wound had been easily stitched and wouldn't interfere much with her training. How soon she could get into the ring was her number one concern. However, Weiss was certainly going to keep Yang from doing anything that would be too strenuous for her arm for at least a week. The fighter was not looking forward to the next few practices.

The car hit a small pothole in the road, and Yang flinched when she accidentally put too much pressure on her wound. Weiss, having seen the movement from the corner of her eye, turned her head towards Yang, her brow furrowed and her signature frown on her face.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, returning her eyes to the honking madness outside.

"Nah, it feels like sunshine and lollipops," Yang joked, earning a look from Weiss. The blonde shuffled in her seat, propping herself up so that she could see out the window better. "It stings a little bit, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"Okay," Weiss breathed out, "Do you remember what the doctor said about cleaning it?"

"For the most part."

An audible sigh came from the driver's seat. "He said for you to wash the wound every night, and assuming you shower I think you'll be fine with that step. He also said to wash it after working out, and to put that ointment he gave you on it. It getting infected is the last thing you need right now. Pretty standard stuff, and I'm sure even you couldn't mess it up."

"Sounds like a plan," Yang hummed. It wasn't that she hadn't cared for what the doctor had said, but it certainly wasn't as important as the beautiful faunus who had caused the blonde to go to him in the first place.

Any normal person would have been terrified of an intruder who had attempted to kill them, but Yang was not a normal person. She had never been scared of the dark, had always solved her disputes with her fists in highschool, and had always been the one to charge ahead first into whatever crazy plan her and her friends had had as kids. Although, those had always been in situations where Yang had known she'd make it out okay, if not a bit battered and bruised. This situation had been life or death. One slip up and Weiss wouldn't have been getting a call just to pick the fighter up from the emergency room. Despite this, Yang wasn't terrified, frightened and shook up maybe, but not terrified. Rather, she was more intrigued. Not only had her assailant been drop-dead gorgeous, but she certainly had been skilled. People who could manage to break out of Yang's iron-grip pins were few and far between.

People of that skill were never just casual attackers or burglars. Someone had clearly hired the faunus, Blake, who Yang knew for a fact was an assassin, hitman, contract killer, or whatever they were called now. Why someone had hired the amber-eyed beauty, Yang had no idea. She had thought and thought, delving deep into the recesses of her brain to find some reason why someone would hire an assassin to take her life. Aside from a few bar fights she had gotten into the month of her twenty-first birthday, nothing had stood out. There was one possible explanation, however, and it wasn't irrational. With the championship matches of the Vale Regional Fighting Championship drawing closer and closer, pressure to train and tensions between rivaling combatants were at an all-time high. It seemed to be stressful for the other finalists, but Yang was always at ease. Perhaps her easygoing nature and lack of losses had threatened one of the others, resulting in a hitman being sent after her. The thought was still ridiculous, but it was the only possible explanation Yang had.

"So," Weiss began, breaking Yang's flurry of thoughts. She cast a quick glance in Yang's direction, taking her eyes off the road for less than a second. "Are you going to explain to me why I had to go meet you at the ER and how you managed to cut your arm open?"

Yang looked around the car, her eyes scanning over the dark interior. "Well, my uncle was going to bring me home, but he left before you because he had some work stuff to go to, being a senator and all that biz. He didn't want me riding my bike home—"

"Wait, you rode your bike to the hospital?!" Weiss exclaimed, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"It was no big deal. By that point the bleeding had already stopped for the most part, and I had it covered." Yang shrugged, but the movement sent a little jolt of pain through her shoulder. She cursed under her breath before continuing louder, "But, yeah, it wasn't that far of a drive. It's not like I was dying or anything."

"It's nearly a twenty minute drive with this traffic, you dolt," Weiss scolded, "I really don't know how I've put up with you these past few years."

A smile stretched across Yang's face. "Don't say that, Weiss. You know you love me! If you didn't you wouldn't be giving me a ride home!"

"It's my job as your manager to make sure you're alright," Weiss clarified, "And it is also my job to know what is going on with you, so can you tell me exactly how you cut your arm open?"

"I thought managers managed schedules and stuff?"

"Yang, just answer the question!"

"Okay, fine," Yang groaned. Knowing that Weiss would hound her for the answer until she would tell, Yang began to explain what had happened. She told Weiss about how she had returned home and had been attacked, but put her training in Mixed Martial Arts to use and fought the attacker off. At the end she tacked on her own thoughts about the situation, explaining to Weiss it all in detail. The white haired girl was silent for almost the entire time, but her expressions did the talking. Her face switched from disbelief, to anger, and even concern for a split second.

"But it's all cool, because she was totally super hot, and I asked her on a date," Yang finished, leaning back in her chair and stretching her long legs as much as she could in the small space.

"Yang, are you kidding me!?" Weiss exclaimed exasperatedly, her foot stomping on the breaks. Yang jerked forward, her seat belt preventing her from going too far, but tightening against her wound and causing her to let out an involuntary cry of pain. Cars honked behind them at their sudden stop, and Weiss quickly continued on down the road. "Her being 'totally super hot' doesn't change the fact that she tried to kill you!" Taking a deep breath, Weiss attempted to calm herself down. "Did you call the police?"

"No, of course not. I didn't want to cause a huge uproar in the news about this."

"Okay, good," Weiss remarked, "Once we get to my house I'll call some of my father's men about this. You're not staying in your own house after something like that, so we'll stop there and you can grab some clothes and essentials for a few nights."

"Your father's men?" Yang asked.

"Professionals and the like. They'll keep you safe and search for whoever attacked you," Weiss explained.

"Oh, thank you," the blonde responded, "You're really taking this whole hitman thing in a stride."

"With a father who owns one of the most successful companies in the world, you learn to get used to it," Weiss replied matter-of-factly.

Yang nodded slowly, and the two fell to a silence. It was easy for Yang to forget Weiss's status as daughter of the founder of Schnee Corporations. For someone who would one day inherit such a large corporation, Weiss was pretty down to Earth, albeit deadly serious about her work.

Not much longer after the two girls' conversation had finished they pulled up to Yang's apartment building. The two of them rushed inside and grabbed what she needed for a few nights over Weiss's house in record time. Hopping back into the passenger seat with a duffle bag of clothes in her arms, Yang went through her mental checklist. When everything she needed was accounted for, she gave the okay to Weiss, who pulled out of the driveway and towards her own home.

"This'll be so much fun! It'll be just like a slumber party," Yang joked, "We can have pillow fights, prank call people, and talk about boys!"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "I'd rather talk about that girl."

"Oh ho ho, I didn't know you swung that way, Princess!"

"You know what I meant," the manager groaned, "And don't call me Princess. I swear, this is the thousandth time I've told you."

"Fine, fine."

"Now, can you tell me what this woman looked like? I'll need a description to give to my father's men, and seeing as you've told me she was 'super hot' I can imagine you saw her face," Weiss addressed.

"Well, it all happened so fast. I never really got a good look at her," Yang lied, "but she was pretty."

"How do you know she was pretty if you didn't get a good look at her?"

"How do you know the sky is blue?"

"You look at it, idiot."

"No, you just know!" Yang explained, "Well, you learn from somewhere, but my point still stands. She was hot, Weiss, and I would never be able to explain why exactly, but she was."

"You're crazy," the manager sighed, "I'm going to have fun explaining to them that the woman who attacked you was apparently attractive, but that you don't remember any distinguishing details."

Yang chuckled, leaning forward to turn on the radio and effectively silencing Weiss's questioning.

She felt bad lying to Weiss, but it was something she had to do. If the men found Blake Yang would lose her only chance of finding out who had hired her and what their motives were. An assassin would never reveal any information about their client to police officers or whatever , and whoever had gone out of their way to hire one certainly wouldn't have any misgivings about hiring another. In the end, Yang's best bet was to find Blake herself and get the answer from her directly. The blonde told herself she was doing this to figure out who had hired the cat faunus, but without even thinking it, she knew she was doing it because she wanted to see the raven haired woman again. It was time to go catch a stray.

Shoving her hands into her pockets, Yang relaxed in her booth by the window. Weiss had told her to spend the day inside to be safe, but the moment her manager had gone out to run some errands Yang had been up and about. She couldn't just leave her baby alone, and it was her main mode of transportation. Without it Yang was stuck either walking everywhere or mooching rides off of Weiss. The keys to her bike jingled in her pocket as she shifted positions, her roomy shorts giving them the extra room to bounce around. Blonde hair billowed over Yang's shoulders, having been released from the hair elastic confining it the night before. Beneath the golden mane a loose red flannel was hanging over a plain white tank top. The flannel had been a birthday gift from Ruby, and while red was more of Ruby's favorite color than Yang's, but the fighter made a point to wear it every once in a while. With yesterday's heat all but vanishing and having grabbed the shirt to take to Weiss's house, Yang knew it would be the perfect time to do so.

The night over Weiss's house had been fairly normal to Yang's surprise. Despite being heiress to a multi-million dollar company she lived in a simple apartment in the city and didn't have anything extravagant, her home being more barren than anything else. In response to her client's exclamation of surprise Weiss had explained about how she wanted to be able to support herself and not have to live out of her father's pocket. It was an admirable decision, and Yang respected Weiss for such. Not long after Weiss had called the professionals, and Yang spent the next few hours explaining what had happened and explaining to numerous people that while she knew the woman had been pretty, she didn't remember exactly what she had looked like.

All in all it had been a tiring night. When the men had left Yang plopped down onto Weiss's guest bed, asleep before she even hit the pillow. Now here she was, sitting in a cozy little seat-yourself café named so and so on Main Street and Beacon Ave. There were only a few other patrons inside, each one sipping from assorted mugs with the café's name engraved in the side and sitting either in one of the numerous red cushioned booths lining the walls or one of the small round tables placed on the floor. Yang herself had yet to order anything. Instead, she had sat down and relaxed for a moment, thinking about what she wanted and if she could take a little risk in getting something sweet.

The fighter leaned on her hand and faced the window. It was another busy day in Vale like always. An endless stream of people walked down the roads, and just when Yang thought there were no more people another dozen rushe on by. The parking spots were like a battle ground, cars cutting each other off and barely scraping by to win the perfect space. Yang grinned as she watched a young woman attempt to drive out from the spot she was parked not once, but twice, narrowly avoiding bumping into the two cars she had parallel parked between. Right when she was about to attempt her third try, Yang heard someone speak out from behind her.

Turning around she saw a young man, tall and scrawny. His blonde hair was ruffled, hanging just past his ears. A red apron that matched the booths was hanging off his neck and tightly tied around his waist. The poor waiter seemed extremely nervous, his hands shaking and face almost as equally as red as both the booth and his apron. Yang sat up straighter, tilting her head towards him and raising her eyebrows as if to urge him on.

"E-excuse me," he mumbled quietly. He scratched his head, his mouth open but no words coming out. Then he started again, louder, "Excuse me, a-are you the MMA fighter Y-Yang Xiao Long!?"

Yang chuckled inwardly at his nervousness. It was no big surprise that someone recognized her, seeing as a lot of people in Vale were rooting for her to win. It was hard to miss the blonde, her trademark hair standing out like a sore thumb in public. She'd been in plenty of interviews where the inquirer would ask her why she had kept her hair so long, seeing as it might interfere with training, and the fighter would respond with her usual, 'it comes with the last name' reasoning.

"No, sorry. I actually look just like her," she replied with an over exaggerated sigh, trying not to burst out laughing at the waiter's shocked expression, "It's kind of crazy. The fact that my name is Yin Short doesn't make it any better either."

"No way," the waiter replied. He looked disappointed, but was instantaneously calmer now that he thought he wasn't speaking to a popular Mixed Martial Arts fighter. "That's some sort of crazy coincidence. Well, I'm sorry to bother you. While I'm here would you like to order anything?"

"Uhh, yeah, I'll have a coffee with sugar and cream, please," Yang requested. As he wrote down her order and walked back to the kitchen Yang smirked, barely able to comprehend the fact that he had actually believed her.

In less than ten minutes the waiter had returned, coffee in hand. He placed it in front of Yang with a clank. "Here you go Miss Short!"

"Thank you," Yang replied, "You do know I was joking about the whole Yin Short thing, right?"

The young man paused, his eyes widening. One thin arm hung in the air and his jaw hung ajar. "What?" he practically whispered.

"I'm Yang Xiao Long."

"O-oh my god!" the waiter exclaimed loudly. He blushed furiously and his eyes lit up. "Oh gosh, uh, can I have your autograph!?"

Yang laughed. "Of course! Do you have a pen and paper?"

"Y-yeah, right here," he replied, pulling a paper off of his order pad and a pen out of his pocket before handing the two items to her.

"What's your name?"

"J-Jaune!"

Noting that her order of a coffee with cream and sugar was right beside where she was signing, Yang wrote a little inspirational message to the nervous waiter and signed her name with a flourish. She handed the autographed paper to the waiter, who was shaking with excitement. He grasped the paper looking like he couldn't believe it to be true. Before Yang could initiate some small talk as she tended to do whenever she bumped into a fan of hers, the waiter, Jaune, gave a quick word of thanks and rushed back towards the kitchen. His sudden departure was fine by Yang, as now she could drink her coffee in peace.

She took a tentative sip, but when she found it to be too hot she placed it back onto the table. Looking back out the window Yang noticed that the woman who had been attempting to leave earlier had made it out, and with no damage to the other cars at that. The spot now remained empty, but Yang noticed a car slowing to a stop and clearly going to park there. The car was a fancy sports car, sleek and black, something Yang would love to find herself driving. The windows were tinted, and Yang couldn't see the driver, but she assumed they were some sort of rich looking gent or lady.

The driver of the car found a break in traffic, just enough time to make the most perfect parallel park Yang had ever seen. They managed to do it in just a few seconds. Yang found herself marveling at the sight. With skills like that the driver definitely deserved that amazing sports car. Yang watched the car for a few more moments, taking a sip of her now cooled coffee as she waited for the driver to step out from the car. But they never did. With the tinted windows blocking Yang's only chance at seeing them, she nearly gave up watching the car. Nearly, as not even a few seconds before she took her eyes off the car and onto something far more interesting did she see a young man walking towards the vehicle from the alleyway between the café and the building beside it.

He had to be at the latest in his mid-twenties. Dark brown hair with red highlights was spiked up on his head, two long horns sprouted from deep within his hair, and his face clean shaven. Red and white sunglasses hid his eyes from view, but his brow was furrowed. He was clearly well built, muscles rippling underneath his black collared shirt. Yang had to admit he was a very attractive man, but while her attention lingered on his muscles for a long moment, her eyes eventually trailed down to the package in his hand. It was the simple commonly used orange packaging, but the way it bulged made Yang realize it was much more than that.

The man arrived at the sports car, and he rapped on the driver's door window three times exactly. It began to roll down, slowly, tantalizingly slowly. Yang sat up straighter in her seat, trying to get an early glimpse. Then the window hit the point of visibility, and Yang saw the driver of this amazing car. Eyes hidden by all black sunglass, standing out on the pale skin, but fading away into the dark as night hair. Supple pink lips that stood out against the pallor of her skin were pursed as she snatched the package the man held out. An eyebrow raised and a few curt words were said before the man turned around to walk away and the window raised back up to conceal the car's inhabitant. In spite of the driver's efforts to roll the window up quickly it was too late for her to hide, as Yang had already seen her face. The raven haired woman, Blake, had made the mistake of thinking she was safe to reveal herself for even a second. The fighter had found her stray cat without even having to lift a finger. The hunt was on.

Outside the car started, and Yang leapt to her feet. She wasn't going to let Blake get away. Pulling her only money out of her pocket, a twenty dollar bill, Yang slammed it on the table, knowing that it would take too long to get the change. Jaune could have a little tip. The bell hanging on the door jingled as Yang rushed out of the café. A few quick steps and she was at Blake's car, by the passenger door. She tried the handle, pulling the door open with ease. Pushing the package that was on the passenger seat to the floor, the same one the man had handed Blake earlier, Yang plopped down in the passenger's seat.

Her attacker, the dazzling cat faunus Blake, sat beside her. Her jaw was dropped, sunglasses sliding down her nose and revealing wide and startled amber eyes. She blinked a few times, not believing who had just sat themselves down inside her own car. Her hand slowly reached up, grabbing her sunglasses and placing them on the dashboard. A phone which Yang had not noticed earlier was brought down from her ear slowly, before Blake cleared her throat.

"I've got to go." The hitman didn't wait for a response, pressing a button and ending the call. She looked at Yang, her shocked expression slowly slipping off her face.

Yang smiled. "Hello, Blake," she greeted.

Turning towards the windshield, Yang gave a quick wave to a few passersby, who all happily waved back. Making sure Blake had seen, Yang place a hand on top of the car lock and turned towards her again

"Let's talk."