Author's note: Enjoy! (I am pajamawolfie on Tumblr in case anyone cares)

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or any characters therein.
Also, Pyrrha's nickname "P-money" was made up by Matt the Mammoth Rider on Tumblr.

Chapter 1 – In Which Adult Beverages Are Consumed

Yang strode into Beacon's fitness center late one evening to see Pyrrha Nikos in the midst of disemboweling a practice dummy—at least, it would have been disemboweled if it had had any internal organs. Yang stared at her favorite non-cartoon cereal box mascot for a moment before dropping her gym bag loudly onto the floor.

"Easy there, P-money, I think it's dead."

Pyrrha turned around to see Yang leaning with her back against the wall, wearing her usual smug look. Pyrrha was not in the mood to be teased.

"What did that training dummy ever do to you anyw—"

Before Yang could finish her second jab, Pyrrha extended a hand towards her javelin, using her semblance to summon it to her hand with a loud clank, then lobbed it at the unsuspecting Yang.

Yang jumped two feet to her right. "Pyrrha, what the hell?! You're just lucky you missed my hair." As Miló still vibrated where it had pierced the wall, Pyrrha silently acknowledged that fact. She'd helped gather up the limbs of foes that had damaged Yang's precious hair.

Yang, who had still not taken the hint, started strolling in her direction. "Damn, girl; you're tense! You really need to get laid—" Just as the last word was leaving her mouth, Yang realized the severity of her mistake: Pyrrha summoned Akóuo, and crouched in a flawless battle stance. Not particularly wanting to get beheaded, the blonde held up her hands for a truce. "Whoa, whoa. Sorry, P-money." Yang tried to maintain her cheerful look, but she was actually starting to worry about her friend. This wasn't like Pyrrha; she usually kept a cool head in any situation.

Pyrrha suddenly snapped out of huntress mode and realized what she was doing. "Oh dust! Yang, I'm so sorry, there's no excuse for what I did, please forgiv—"

Yang grabbed the overly-apologetic girl's shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. "Breathe, Nikos. I lived." Pyrrha sighed and looked down at her boots.

Yang plopped down heavily on a bench, and beckoned to the still-sulking Amazon, who shuffled over to sit by her. "Sooo… what's eating you, P-money?" Pyrrha just closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Slightly annoyed by the redhead's silence, Yang gave her a playful shove. "Are you gonna tell me or do I have to beat it outta you?"

Pyrrha—realizing that resistance was futile—sighed once again. "It's Jaune. We usually train up on the roof after evening classes, but he's blown me off for the third night in a row. He said he had to work on a five-page essay on the history of the dust industry, but when I get back from my nightly training, it's clear that his desk hasn't been touched." Yang nodded sagely, and Pyrrha continued. "In fact, I'm sure he hasn't been at his desk; Nora left a half-eaten banana there two days ago and it was practically rotten by this morning when Ren threw it out.

"I know he hasn't been sleeping that well, and he's been spacing out way more than usual." Yang worked hard to keep from smirking as she pictured Pyrrha watching Jaune sleep. "I'm worried about him. Even Ren and Nora are concerned. He was doing fine for a while after he defeated that Ursa and stood up to Cardin, but lately it's just like he's given up." Pyrrha closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

Normally Yang would rib Pyrrha about her "thing" for Vomit-boy, but tonight was different. Her stoic friend was on the verge of tears. She had to do something to cheer her up.

"So… you murdered a practice dummy?" Yang prompted, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

Pyrrha wiped her sweaty forehead and chuckled softly as she looked at the mass of leather and foam that until just recently was a practice dummy. "I suppose I did get a bit carried away." Yang snorted. Pyrrha's eyes unfocused and she stared into space for a minute. Yang waited for her friend to continue, and eventually Pyrrha broke the silence. "I'm just so frustrated! I want to help him; I'm trying to help him—I'm trying so damn hard. But nothing works," she finished sadly. Yang was shocked that the usually proper Pyrrha Nikos was resorting to swearing. It must really be serious.

"And so I've been training harder," Pyrrha continued. "It's the only thing I know to do." She took several swallows of water from her bottle, not even noticing that a third of it had ended up on her top. "I thought that physical exhaustion would burn off some of my excess aggression, and would give Jaune some space if he needs it, or would at least wear me out enough to let me sleep without… without being bothered by all this." Pyrrha waved her hand through the air near her head.

Yang watched as Pyrrha started to slowly unravel like a beloved sweater that had been put through years of use and abuse. Meanwhile, Pyrrha—true to form—had already started apologizing for bothering Yang with her problems, etc. Yang just tuned her out. If only there was something she could do to help…

Pyrrha was in the middle of her guilt-laden apology-filled rant when she was startled by Yang suddenly scooting toward her until their faces were about six inches apart. Yang somehow managed to keep a straight face as she looked her dead in the eyes.

"Girl, you need a drink."

Pyrrha was stunned into silence, and therefore didn't protest when Yang grabbed her by the arm, scooped up their gear with her free hand, and dragged her right out of the gym.

Yang had never been the type of person who could leave a loose thread alone.

"Ahaha! There you are~!" Yang stopped rummaging around in her closet, and produced a bottle of tequila, which she cradled lovingly.

Pyrrha—still shocked into silence—sat on Weiss's bed. Needless to say, neither the testy heiress nor her enthusiastic partner was in Team RWBY's dorm room at the time. Pyrrha remembered that Nora had invited them to go see a movie with her tonight. She'd mentioned talking dogs, and Ruby was all over it. Dust knows how they'd convinced Weiss to go.

Pyrrha focused on Yang again. Until now, Pyrrha hadn't realize that Yang had actually meant what she said, or that she actually had any liquor stashed in her closet—although in hindsight, she realized that she should have. For dust's sake, it was Yang.

"You know that's illegal." A droll, monotone voice indicated that Blake was in the room. Pyrrha turned to see the Faunus girl reading on the bottom of the bunk beds she shared with Yang.

"Aww, Blakey…" Yang cocked her head to one side in an attempt to look cute. "Are you trying to say you want some too?"

"I don't drink and you know it. Where did you get that, and why is Pyrrha here?" Blake glanced over the top of her book at Pyrrha, who looked understandably nervous.

Yang sauntered over to Weiss's bed to join Pyrrha. "One, I know some guys." She winked suggestively. Blake rolled her eyes. "And two, P-money here has been having a rough week and needs something to take the edge off." She threw an arm around Pyrrha's shoulders for emphasis.

Pyrrha finally snapped out of her haze and stood up hastily. She quickly held out her hands and started backing towards the door. "No, no, no… Yang, I really don't want any alcohol. I'm underage, you're underage; we could get into so much trouble if Ozpin even knew you had alcohol in here. I'll just forget I saw this and go back to—"

"Not so fast, P-money!" Almost quicker than she could turn around, a smirking Yang was blocking the door. Pyrrha had a sinking feeling in her gut. Yang was just as strong as she was—if not stronger—and definitely more determined. Pyrrha looked to Blake, silently begging for backup.

Blake, disturbed from her reading by the commotion her mercurial partner and the panicking Amazon were causing, spoke up. "I agree with Pyrrha. I don't want to get kicked out because of your delinquent tendencies."

Yang raised an eyebrow at that—but thankfully had enough sense to avoid mentioning the White Fang in front of Pyrrha. Blake shot her partner a glare that promised a slow and painful death. Yang relented, looking sheepish and apologetic.

Pyrrha briefly wondered what that was all about. Nevermind; she didn't want to know. She just wanted to go back to her—

Her thoughts were interrupted when Blake, still noticeably miffed, continued. "Anyways, what's to stop me from reporting you to Professor Goodwitch right now?"

Yang leaned her back against the door and pretended to be deep in thought. "Well… I'm your wonderful, amazing best friend and you would miss me so much if I got kicked out, and…" Yang paused dramatically, then leaned toward Blake, grinning evilly. "I will tell everyone at Beacon that you purr when someone brushes your hair." Pyrrha barely suppressed a giggle. Blake had stopped wearing her bow several weeks ago, so everyone knew that she was a cat Faunus, but picturing her reserved friend purring while Yang brushed her hair… oh dust, it was almost too much.

Blake tensed, ready to spring. "You. Wouldn't. Dare."

Yang cracked the door open a bit and leaned out. "Hey guys! Gue—"

She was abruptly cut off by Blake, who had used her semblance to jump directly to Yang and clamp a hand over the blonde's mouth. "I will kill you."

Yang continued grinning despite Blake's hand over her mouth. "Bfuf thun who wuh bwuths yo haher?" Yang asked before imitating the sound of a cat purring. Blake put Yang in a headlock, and was promptly flipped over for her efforts. The two of them started wrestling in front of the door—unfortunately for Pyrrha, blocking her only escape route—before they ended up on the floor laughing, with Yang sitting on the back of a now-immobilized Blake.

Pyrrha soon joined in their laughter. The two of them looked so ridiculous that she couldn't help it. Two nearly grown huntresses-in-training were settling an argument like second-graders. Watching their antics made her forget why she was so eager to leave—until Yang once again opened her mouth.

"So it's settled then. Pyrrha and I will drown her sorrows in the pleasures of the vine—" Pyrrha's eyes widened with fear.

"Tequila is made *oof* from agave, you oaf," Blake huffed, as she still had the heavier girl sitting on her back.

Yang ignored her. "And you, Blakey?" Blake mumbled something into the floor and looked petulant. Yang started playing with her hair, dangerously close to her cat ears. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."

By this time, Blake's face was turning a bit purple. "Okay! Okay! I won't tell Goodwitch! Just get off of me, you brute." Yang poked her at partner's ears a few more times for good measure, causing Blake to growl, and then finally let the Faunus girl up. Blake and Yang stared each other down for a few seconds, before they started laughing again. Pyrrha joined in with some nervous laughter of her own, and Blake and Yang turned to her.

"I'm not going to get away without drinking something, am I?" Pyrrha asked, despair showing clearly across her face. The other two girls shook their heads. Pyrrha just rubbed her temples, accepted her fate, and shuffled back over to Weiss's bed.

Pyrrha's hands shook as she held the red plastic cup. She'd never drunk alcohol before—unless she counted a few sips of champagne at her cousin's wedding—and she really didn't want to get caught, but she didn't want to fight Yang (and possibly Blake), and she didn't want to get drunk and do something she'd regret, but she didn't want to be rude to a friend who was trying to help in her own unique/illegal way, and…

Her catastrophizing was cut short by Yang bumping her own cup against Pyrrha's, and shouting "Banzai!" Yang threw back her cup and gulped down half of her spiked punch.

Pyrrha had adamantly refused to take any tequila shots, so Yang went to Team RWBY's minifridge and got out a jug of tropical punch and some ginger ale and started mixing combinations of the three beverages in several of those flimsy red plastic cups. Pyrrha was extremely concerned about the ratio of tequila to punch in Yang's concoctions, so Blake offered to mix Pyrrha's punch with a low-to-moderate amount of alcohol. Pyrrha thanked all of the gods of Remnant, but still kept an eye on Blake. Once all the drinks were prepared to everyone's satisfaction and/or begrudging compromise, the three of them sat down on Blake's bed, where Pyrrha was currently staring intently into her cup and wondering how on Remnant she ended up in this situation.

Blake waved a hand in front of her face. Pyrrha snapped to attention and looked at her. "You'd better just drink it," Blake said. "Yang isn't going to let it go until you do."

"Nope!" said Yang in a louder-than-normal voice, popping her lips on the "p". "P-money, you muss tell ush your problemsh and relaaaax. Like, girl'sh night out! Thas what thish is now." Pyrrha didn't point out that sitting in Team RWBY's dorm room couldn't be classified as being "out", or that she felt anything but relaxed at this moment. She looked at Yang, who was drinking her third cup of punch and looking quite flushed by now. Blake was sitting in front of her, trying to keep her unruly partner in check. Though she wouldn't report them, Blake wouldn't drink either. Pyrrha protested that that was unfair, but Blake flatly told her that Yang needed a chaperone and also that she would personally make sure things didn't get out of hand. Pyrrha wasn't sure if she should be worried or relieved by that statement.

"It's going to evaporate if you wait much longer," Blake deadpanned, looking at Pyrrha's cup once again.

Yang playfully pushed the nervous girl with her foot. "C'mon, P-money; I've sheen you totally murder a Deathshtalker before! You can't be schared of a lil' bit of spiked punch." Pyrrha noticed that Yang was now slurring her speech quite a bit. The tipsy blonde continued. "And if takin-ing Vomit-boy ash your partner didn't schare you, then I don—"

Yang and Blake both froze as Pyrrha seized her cup and drank down half of the punch in one gulp. "Well, I think we know the root of the problem," said Blake, as Yang cheered and laughed triumphantly in the background. Pyrrha turned redder, looked away, and took another large swallow of her drink. Truth be told, it didn't taste as bad as she thought it would. Just like cheap, generic punch with an odd burning sensation afterwards.

Though Pyrrha didn't like the thought of breaking the law, she had to admit she'd always been curious about alcohol. How would it affect her? Would she get sick? Would she get drunk? How many drinks did it take to get a hangover? Thank dust tomorrow was Sunday…

Blake's calm voice interrupted Pyrrha's musings. "So, Pyrrha: I'm guessing Jaune has been on your mind."

"Yep yep yep!" said Yang. "She wasch tellin' me all 'bout it back at the gym. Sheesh got it baaaad for Vomit-boy!" Yang grabbed for another cup, which was quickly snatched away by Blake and replaced with a ginger ale. "Aww, Blakey! Yer no fun," Yang pouted.

Pyrrha narrowed her eyes at the inebriated blonde girl and took another sip of punch. "I-I never said that. He's my partner and our leader and I was just concerned for his well-being." Yang and Blake gave each other sarcastic glances; they clearly weren't buying it. She looked away from her conspiratorial friends, and finished her cup. The alcohol was starting to affect her: she felt a pleasant warmth spreading through her stomach, and her shoulders felt a little lighter.

"Ah! Young love…" Yang pretended to swoon and landed with her head in Blake's lap.

Blake pretended not to be amused. "Yang, shut up and drink your ginger ale." Yang grumbled, but complied. "So what about Jaune has been bothering you?"

Pyrrha looked over to Blake. The soft-spoken Faunus's presence had a calming effect on her. Pyrrha knew that she could trust Blake, and she wasn't afraid of being judged by her—dust knows Blake knew what that felt like. Even her more… rowdy friend was just trying to help, albeit not the way Pyrrha would have preferred, but still.

"You can tell me," Blake said softly. "I'm a good listener." She smiled and twitched her cat ears for emphasis, sending Yang into a fit of giggles and eliciting a small smile from Pyrrha.

Pyrrha looked away, and then glanced back at Blake's concerned eyes. After taking a moment to collect her wandering thoughts, Pyrrha repeated the story she'd told Yang back at the gym, elaborating a little more on some parts. "…And… and… I juss don't know what ta do!" she finished. As the whole story had spilled out, the normally eloquent Amazon had begun slurring her words. Pyrrha held one hand over her eyes while the other clutched her second cup of punch, three-quarters empty by this time. The more Pyrrha drank, the more emotional she became. She dimly realized that, but didn't really care at the moment.

Blake scooted closer to the distraught Amazon and gently rested a hand on her back. "It's alright, Pyrrha." She had noticed the tears dripping through the hand over Pyrrha's eyes. "If you want to cry, it's alright. Holding back all the time just makes it worse. Believe me."

Pyrrha—with her eyes red and teary, mascara smudged and snot dripping down at her face—looked up at Blake and Yang before abruptly burying her head in Blake's shoulder and bawling. Blake just put an arm around her, rubbed her back, and sat in silence as Pyrrha cried herself out. Her big sister instincts taking over, Yang made her way to Pyrrha's other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders protectively. She'd even had the foresight to bring the tissue box from the nightstand.

After several minutes, Pyrrha pulled away from them and stared disconsolately at her cup. "I'm so sorry for all this… I dun wanna bother you guysh wif my problemsh… thish is so—"

Before Pyrrha could mumble through her second guilt-laden apology-filled rant of the evening, Yang held up a hand as she shuffled back to the head of Blake's bed. "Shuddup, P-money. We wanned to hear about whas been buggin' ya, 'cuz friendsh do that kin' of schtuff. So rant or cry or whaddever; ya don hafta be so…" Yang paused, searching for the right word, "perfect all tha time."

Blake looked to her incorrigible partner—who was currently attempting to pour tequila into an empty ginger ale can—and after snatching the tequila bottle away and ignoring Yang's subsequent whining, she turned back to Pyrrha.

"Yang may be drunk off her ass right now," Yang fist pumped and Blake ignored her, "but she's right, Pyrrha. You don't have to be strong all by yourself." Blake looked off to one side. "If you have people… friends… who really care about you, you should go to them with your problems." Blake's voice took on a more somber tone. "I learned that the hard way."

Yang leaned forward and threw her arms around Blake. "Aww… I wuv you, Blakey!" She rubbed Blake's cat ears, causing the Faunus to push her away, though not without a small smirk at the boisterous girl's affection.

"Th-thanksh, you guysh. I think I n-needed that," Pyrrha said, wiping her eyes and nose with a tissue. She really did feel like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn't know that part of that was from the alcohol, but it still felt good to have someone listen to her troubles.

"Anytime, babe," said Yang, winking and pointing a finger-gun at Pyrrha, before dramatically collapsing backwards onto the bed.

Before Yang could say anything to ruin the moment, Blake added, "So, we're clear now, right?" Pyrrha nodded as she absent-mindedly picked up another cup. "Next time, know that you can come talk to us, and Yang"—Blake elbowed her partner in the gut, prompting an "oof" and a giggle fit from Yang—"won't feel like she has to get you drunk first. Right, Yang?" Yang picked up on the not-so-subtle threat in Blake's voice, and gave a thumbs-up without looking up from her sprawled-out position on the bed.

Pyrrha took a long drink of the punch—which really burned her throat for some reason—and sighed, lolling back on a pile of pillows. "So," she said. "Now that you know whas been bothering me," Pyrrha paused, almost losing her train of thought, "do you have any avice for what I should do now?" Pyrrha took another swig of her (nasty) punch before handing it off to Blake, who held on to it to prevent Yang from drinking it.

"You shud give Vomit-boy a piece of yer mind," Yang said, pointing straight into the air while still laying down on Blake's bed.

Blake thought for a moment, and looked at the very tipsy Amazon. "You know, that might work. If something's bothering you, I'm sure Jaune would want to know." Pyrrha looked like she was about to say something, but Blake cut her off. "Even if it's him. I mean, he's your partner and he obviously cares about you." Pyrrha closed her eyes, defeated.

Blake couldn't resist the temptation to tease Pyrrha a little bit. "You know… maybe he even *likes* you," she added with a lilt in her voice. Yang laughed and awkwardly tried to high-five her partner, instead hitting her in the side. Pyrrha gave them a mean look, causing the mischievous pair to laugh even more. Yang was definitely rubbing off on Blake…