Ruby Rose fiddles with the hem of her dress. The frills and the heels bring back memories of a similar time at Beacon Academy, when she once thought heroes were invulnerable. There had been music, there had been lights, and there had always been the annoying necessity for a partner in a blasted ritual that many of her contemporaries delighted in: dancing.

Alas, that was near a year ago when the world still made sense. Yet here she stands, on the mezzanine of a seedy Atlesian night club overlooking a crowd of party-goers gyrating their hips and throwing their hands about to the beats of some repetitive techno-pop song that made her ears itch. She frowns at the revelry below and backs away to the bar hoping to spend time with her team.

To her abject horror, she finds the bar empty. Her teammates had gone their own ways. Yang and Blake and Weiss had left her be without a word. The traitors.

"Ruby?"

Ruby twirls to face Jaune Arc coming up the steps, himself dressed appropriately for the night. Unlike the silky gimmick he pulled back at Beacon, he was in a more suitable mix of loose jeans and a suit over a polo shirt. She smiles at him, at least relieved that she was not on her lonesome this evening. Just like old times back in Beacon.

"What are you doing up here?" he asks her.

"Getting away from it all," she answers him.

They both seat themselves on adjacent stools by the bar. The barman eyes them slyly as he goes through the rack for something to mix.

Jaune nudges her. "Not interested in taking the floor?"

"You know me. I don't dance." Ruby gestures at the dark stilettos that were the nightmares of her soles. "Especially not in these..."

"Huh. Yeah. I kinda forgot."

"Why're you up here?"

He shrugs. "Ren and Nora wanted some private time."

"Oh."

They wait until the barman presents them their drinks. Non-alcoholic milkshakes with crushed strawberries. Ruby takes a sip through her straw and watches Jaune do the same. She notes the calmness about him. No longer the insecure student she blundered into back at Beacon and no more the insecure fighter nipping at healing scars on the road to Mistral. Yet, despite these changes, he still is her friend.

Ruby stares at her drink and marvels at how much has changed over the past year that she had known him. Different but the same.

"How're you feeling?" she asks him.

"Never better," he answers with a toothy grin.

"You're feeling chipper."

"You should too. This is a nightclub. Best place to unwind."

She scowls at that. This nightclub was the only place in the seediest district of this seedy Atlesian border city that could efficiently hide them from the wrath of General Ironwood (or the entire Council). Until Qrow and Ozpin—when he finally comes out of his shell in the corners of Oscar's mind—would assuage his furor, there was no other safer option but to remain on the premises as patrons. At least the owners were understanding. Of course, they were also favorable to a big donation to their pockets straight from the pockets of a Schnee to let them stay for as long as they wished.

"You know, that would be Yang's line," she corrects him.

Jaune laughs a little. "Yeah. I think she's rubbing off on me."

Ruby finds herself a tad uneasy at that thought. "Yang? Rubbing off on you? How much time have you been spending around her?"

"About the same as I do you. And Weiss. And Blake. And everyone else."

"Uh-huh."

"And you need to unwind. Can't stay up here all night, every night."

"I can and I will."

Jaune regards her with a glint in his eye. "Not tonight."

"What?" She sees him grab her wrist faster than she expects of him. She tugs against him only to be dragged off the stool and down the mezzanine to the dance floor. Despite her superior capability as a Huntress, she found herself relenting. "Jaune, what are you doing!? Let go! I am not dancing!"

"Come on, Rubes," he insists, pulling her into the crowd of revelers all throwing their arms and heads about. "Just a little bit. This is a fast track which means a lot of people on the floor so no one would notice you letting loose for a couple seconds."

Ruby protests only to find herself stranded in a sea of roisterers. Flashing disco lights, clouds of dry ice from the smoke machines, perfume, sweat, and the deafening thumping of techno-pop music running at over a hundred and fifty beats per minute. It is too much for her and she grabs onto the nearest person for support: Jaune.

"Whoa, there!" He grips her arms and rights her. "I almost fell!"

"Why'd you bring me out here, dummy!?"

Jaune laughs and guides her hands away from his chest. He leads her along to the beat. "So you could do this, dummy."

She squeaks as she nearly loses her footing. She struggles to balance on her heels and fights to avoid stepping on his shoes or anyone else's. One leg over the other, a foot behind his, her hands rising up and down and her hips swaying unevenly throughout. Strands of her hair smack against her cheeks but there is neither room nor time to brush her face, especially with Jaune taking her on a roller coaster of a dance number.

She would not admit it but she is getting the hang of it. Her body slips into the tempo and she finds she no longer needs him to frame her moves. She gyrates on her own and the pain in her soles numbs. Her hands slip from his and wave over her head.

Jaune nods along, a wide grin on his face as he moves with her, himself a hypnotic tornado of moves that would stop a professional in his tracks. Together, the two of them become one with the crowd. Smiling. Laughing. Dancing. Dictating the flow.

The music reaches its peak, the drum beats multiplying in a crescendo, and Ruby and Jaune stand in stunned silence at the sudden end to the track. The lights dim and the crowd cheers. The DJ barks something incomprehensible over the speakers while he replaces the track with a new one.

"Jaune," Ruby mutters, her confidence gone. "Jaune, where's everyone going?"

"Uh, back to their seats?" he replies uneasily.

The stage lights burst in force once more, centering attention on them—the two patrons occupying the center stage. The revelers had dispersed to form a watching crowd around them. Curious eyes and smug faces, some raising their half-filled glasses, others pulling out their scrolls to record.

"Oh crap," he whispers.

"What do you mean, 'oh crap'!?" she hisses up at him.

The DJ's voice booms across the speakers, distorted but intelligible now. "Give it up for our lucky couple of the night!"

Cheers and hoots erupt around them. Ruby, her cheeks on fire, shrinks into Jaune. Her hands wrap tight around his neck while she presses herself against his chest. Jaune, for his part, functions akin to a deer caught in headlights; he waves awkwardly at the audience. He glances around, hoping for some semblance of salvation from this embarrassment, when he sees the DJ give a thumbs up before starting the track.

Gods, a slow song.

Ruby doesn't recognize it but Jaune does. He flinches and glances down at her apologetic. "Um, at least you learned to, uh, dance?"

"What?"

"Look, just follow my lead, okay? This is a slow number so, um, it wouldn't be too hard. It'll be easier to catch the beat. You with me?"

She nods frantically. She despises the attention from the crowd. She wants to activate her Semblance and disappear into her quarters upstairs. Instead, she finds herself accepting his hands and moving to the rhythm. She commands her legs to turn around yet only feels her soles press against the stilettos to follow Jaune's footwork on the dance floor.

Click. Forward. Clack. Backward.

Unlike the rapid, dizzying, frenzied mess beforehand, this one was easier to follow.

"You're doing good, Rubes," Jaune mutters into her ear. "You're doing good."

She nods back. She catches the melody; a mesmerizingly beautiful tune. A song about distance, about loyalty, about...love?

Her mind stops at the lyrics proclaiming said emotion.

"Eep!" She trips. She braces for the floor. Strong, soft arms wrap under her, twirling her majestically until she opens her eyes to Jaune's face. Ruby does not tear away until he swings her back up to her feet. Smooth.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she pants. She expects guidance to where her hands would go. Instead, her fingers find their way up to his collar on their own, ultimately resting on his shoulders.

"O-okay th-then," he stammers. His hands slide down, coming to rest on her waist.

Together, they catch up to the chorus. Their hips sway. And their steps match. Then the spectra changes and Ruby is left breathless. Once or twice or perhaps a dozen times in the time they shared together, she had stopped to admire Jaune for who he was. His physique, his loyalty, his friendship... Now, with the disco lights aligning, she is powerless against the hauntingly blue eyes gazing down at her.

A maturing chin, bearing a rough growing stubble, and tuft of blonde hair combed clean. The feel of his toned muscles on her fingers, his encouraging grin, his enrapturing scent...

Oh gods, his cologne was so strong! She wonders if some of that is his natural musk and not some pungent aroma in a bottle. She does not mind inching closer to take a better whiff. In her reverie, her ears fall deaf to the noise of her audience. Only the music, the lyrics, and his words come through.

"Um, you look really good tonight, Rubes," he says with an uneven smile.

"Th-thanks," she replies with a weak chuckle. "You're looking, uh, sh-sharp yourself."

"Yeah, heh, uh, thanks." He bites his lip as he sways along. "Y'know, you're...you're really cute."

Her heart stops at that moment. Her lips part wide. "... Thanks. Y-you're cute, too..."

He brings her close and smiles at her. "I think...I think you're more than cute."

"You think so?" she wonders aloud.

Jaune gulps. "Y-yeah. You know, I think you're...I think you're beautiful. You're a very beautiful girl, Ruby."

She glances away this time. She stares at the bright blue glass panels of the floor while she moves along with him. "Wow. Thanks, Jaune! I've...I've never... No one's really told me that before..."

"Other than your dad?"

She snaps back at him with a scowl. "Ugh, don't make this weird!"

He smirks. "And this isn't weird?"

Ruby folds and realizes too late that she had locked her fingers behind his neck. She wiggles a little only to feel him do the same behind her waist. She thinks this is weird but a part of her argues against it; it feels magical. "... Dummy."

"What? What did I do?"

"You're a dummy," she insists. "A big, blonde dummy."

"Aww, Rubes. I'm not that bad."

"You made me dance."

"You know you could stop at any time. Our table is right there."

She bites her lip. "... I don't want to stop."

He stares at her. "What? Y-you don't?"

"Jaune, I..." She stops herself. And stares back up at him. "I...I really like...I really, really like to..."

He stops. Blinks. The music reaches its climax. A still quiet hangs for the brief measure over the whole dance floor. "Ruby?"

"I really like you."

The audience, muted by their own excitement, lets out a cheerful roar. The DJ's voice rings over the speakers, harking something about being adorable but the two former students of Beacon Academy care less at this point. The truth that they came to understand between them was stunning.

Only after the music returns for the coda does Jaune open his mouth. "You do?"

Ruby hides her face in the buttons of his polo shirt. "Y-yeah..."

"Huh."

"I...I like to dance with you some more..."

"Th-that would be nice."

They sway together in perfect rhythm until the song ends and they stop. Yet they do not disengage from each other. Their arms are locked and their legs are frozen over the neon floor. It takes a patron nudging them on the shoulder to reel them back into reality. The crowd is converging on the floor now for the second slow number.

By then, Ruby and Jaune realize they had displayed too much. Embarrassment heats up their cheeks. Too many knowing nods, several smug grins, pats, and well-wishes from the patrons had them ushering themselves out to their table under the mezzanine and wishing they could hide in the thick umbras of the disco lights.

Shrouded in the dark, Ruby reaches out and squeals when fingers lace with hers. She glances up and discerns Jaune's face peering back at her. He smiles. She smiles.

"So...that was something," he stammers.

She nods. "Uh-huh. It was something...really good."

"You really are cute, y'know that?"

"Yeah. You too."

Their hands pile in a knot over the table mat. Jaune clears his throat. "Did you...do you... D'you really mean it? Th-that you, uh, really like me?"

Ruby forces herself to answer. Better to straighten this knot in her stomach. "I-I don't want this to, y'know, get in the way of our m-mission so I had to s-say it there..."

Silence for only a moment. Then Jaune reaches over and cups her cheek. "Ruby. It won't."

She holds her breath, savoring his touch.

"Whatever you're feeling about me, about us..." He glances away to address something within him. When he returns to her, his voice carries a greater conviction. "... I feel the same way."

Ruby beams. Her heart leaps up in her chest and she has to squeeze her legs together to keep from leaping over the table to hug him fully. For now, she squeezes his hands and blinks away a tear she thought wouldn't flow.

"Dummy," she squeaks.

"Dork," he quacks.

"Vomit Boy."

"Crater Face."

They laugh. They share the bottle of light wine on their table. And for the first time since they set out on their journey many months ago, they recognize the mutuality between them becoming far beyond platonic.

"Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I'm alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again"

~ 'Love Song' by 311

ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: September 20, 2019

LAST EDITED: September 23, 2019

INITIALLY UPLOADED: September 23, 2019

Lancaster Week (Day Seven) theme: 'Romance'

NOTE: Cheesy as hell, I know.