A/N: Hi, folks. Finally writing another actual fic - and of course it's about the bad guys again, they're just too much fun. Roman is criminally (hehe, geddit) underused by the fandom considering what a great character he is, and I really wanted to write a fic about him.

Huge credit to Zatroopa on Spacebattles for the original idea!

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, it belongs to Rooster Teeth.

Roman Torchwick was a man who considered himself well-educated on the realities of Vale's criminal underworld. In the Business, who you knew was one of the most important factors leading towards your potential success... or failure. Know the right contacts, and your options became far more numerous than they otherwise would have been.

He was also a man who valued the importance of good information. The infamous phrase 'Knowledge is Power' applied perhaps more to criminal enterprise than any other. If you had the right informants, they could tell you where security was lax, who would look the other way if you slipped them some incentive, when and where you could find the particularly valuable goods...

He certainly wasn't the only one who recognised this – many of his 'competitors' did as well, though, all of the serious ones were dead by now (tragic accidents were so easy to come by, these days). Regardless, someone who lived on the 'shady' side of society who had their ear sufficiently low to the ground, could make a hell of a living by passing on all the valuable little bits and pieces that they picked up.

And nobody's ear was lower to the ground than Hei Xiong, or as he was commonly known, 'Junior'. Which was why his formerly small bar had quickly bloomed into a thriving club, and was also why Roman, and his short but colourful partner-in-crime, Neopolitan, were stepping out of a car in a rather dark and dingy-looking alley, opposite a large building.

Neo glanced at their destination in surprise.

"..."

Roman raised an eyebrow. She was right – someone had definitely done the place over. The upstairs windows were smashed, and one of them had apparently been torn right out by the frame from something. He turned to Neo.

"I think you'd better be ready for a little excitement," he said calmly, "Just in case."

She nodded as they opened the door, and headed inside.

The entrance was untouched, apparently – the fight must have started once they had gotten inside. He found a pair of Junior's suited goons standing outside the door.

"Club's closed," one of them said sternly.

Roman stared at the man, unimpressed. "Do I look like I'm here for bad music and worse alcohol? I'm here to see Junior, about business," he emphasised the last word.

"I don't care what you're here for," the man retorted, "Club's closed. Come back another day."

Roman lit a cigar. "Well, well, Neo," he said evenly to his assistant, who was waiting patiently beside him, "It seems the club is closed."

"..." She eyed the two men.

"You're right," Roman agreed, "I would hate to have wasted the journey."

He took a long drag from his cigar, then blew it directly into the doorman's face. "So why don't you go ahead and open it up?"

The doorman in question suddenly found himself keeling over as the small girl's parasol slammed into his gut. His partner at the door barely had the presence of mind to start pulling his gun when he was hit by the first doorman – launched at him by a casual flick of the unconventional weapon. Neo, a confident smirk in place, practically glided over to where the two were groaning and struggling to get up, before knocking them both out with quick strikes to the head.

The whole thing had taken less than ten seconds, and Roman once again found himself appreciating the wonders of having competent help.

"Impressive as usual," Roman commented, "Keep this up, and I might even stop wondering why I keep you around."

She rolled her eyes at him as he strolled through the door – suddenly becoming acutely aware that several dozen eyes had just locked onto him, followed by several dozen hands reaching for weapons. He wasn't particularly concerned – he knew Neo could trash this place on her own easily enough, but he wasn't here to fight.

"Really, now," he called out, "Is this," he motioned to the guns pointed in his direction, "How you treat paying customers? I'm of half a mind to give this place a terrible review on-line."

"I know that voice," a gruff tone commented as a remarkably tall, bearded man, dressed every bit the stereotypical bartender, pushed his way past the other men.

"Junior!" Roman spread his arms in greeting, "It's been so long! And can I just say, I'm really liking the new décor," he waved to the cratered walls, broken furniture and shattered floor, "It gives a much more accurate indication of the level of service your fine establishment offers."

"Torchwick," Junior grunted in reply, "I'd say it was a pleasure, but my mother raised me honest."

"Believe me, Junior," Roman replied airily, "If you have ever had an interaction with me that you'd class as being 'a pleasure', I'd consider it a personal failure."

"What do you want?" Junior demanded.

"The usual," Roman responded, "Information, and as usual, I'm willing to pay. You should feel honoured, you know, you'd be surprised how rare that actually is."

"Somehow, I don't think I would," Junior shook his head, "Stand down, boys."

Roman found his way to the bar as Junior began picking bottles out of the bar and mixing up a drink. Neo jumped up on one of the few unbroken stools beside him. She looked up in surprise a moment later when Junior put an odd-looking drink in front of her.

"One on the house for the idea," he explained, "Those ice-cream sundae vodkas were a big money-spinner."

Roman pointedly avoided the smug look sent his way. "So, I can't help but wonder who felt the need to re-do your interior decorating," Roman asked disinterestedly, "Did someone try your home-brew again, Junior?"

"Nobody you'd know," Junior said, obviously unwilling to talk about it, "Just some hot-head newcomer who doesn't know how things work."

Now this caught Roman's attention. "Really, now? Then it might be related to a little trend we've noticed recently. The one we came here to find out about."

Junior set down his glass and regarded Roman with an unreadable look. "Go on."

"There's someone new in town," Roman said bluntly, "They're hitting Dust at an increasing rate, and soon they're going to make life much more... difficult, for honest, hard-working souls like us," he indicated himself and Neo, who was still happily enjoying her drink. "I want to know what you know about who it is."

Junior leaned back with a snort. "Well, I can tell you right away that the one who hit my club wasn't doing it. I traced them to Beacon, a new starter, but they weren't asking about Dust, or anything like that. Just the location of some woman I've never seen or heard of."

He folded his arms. "I can give you more than that, though. The one you're looking for actually hired my boys for a job a few days ago."

Roman leaned forward in interest. "Really, now? Tell me more."

"I only later found out that they were hitting that Dust Store over near Signal Academy," Junior shook his head. Roman instantly knew what he was talking about – a robbery had been foiled there a few days ago. "They paid up front, they took a few of my men, and I suppose they weren't happy with them, because I haven't seen any of them since."

"And who was this daring new entrepreneur?" Roman asked.

"What's it worth to you?" Junior asked bluntly.

Roman rolled his eyes. "Standard payment."

Junior seemed to mull it over. "Fine," he relented, "I didn't get a name, that was part of the 'no questions' thing, but let me tell you, this lady? You'll recognise her the moment you see her. Little red dress, black hair, legs that go on forever, and clinky little heels - She was a hottie if I've ever seen one."

Roman mulled over the description, but couldn't recall anyone he knew who fit. It seemed there genuinely was a new element in town.

He laid an envelope down on the bar, which Junior palmed and opened, counting the money.

"You really think I'd try to fleece you for the payment?" Roman said, clutching his heart mockingly, "And I thought we were such good friends."

Junior ignored him, nodding in acceptance as he pocketed the envelope.

"Well, Junior, this has been enlightening," Roman stated as he stood up, "By the way... if you find out anything else about the new player in our little sandbox, particularly her name, call me. I'm willing to pay a premium to find out."

"I'll think about it," Junior responded.

"Well, Neo, let's go," Roman turned to his partner, who looked down at her now-empty glass, then back at Roman. She narrowed her eyes.

The duo engaged in a minor stare-down, before Roman finally broke. "Fine, fine," he complained, reaching into his pocket and putting a few notes on the bar, "Get the little lady one for the road as well." he shook his head in annoyance.

The duo found themselves back outside, when Neo suddenly stopped, leaning down to pick something up from the floor.

"What's that?" Roman raised an eyebrow.

She held up the item between her thumb and index finger as she held her parasol beneath her arm.

"A rose petal," he remarked, looking highly unimpressed, "If this is your discount way of showing affection, I'm afraid you're not my type."

She rolled her eyes. "..."

"Okay, now you've got me curious," Roman frowned, "What makes you think it's connected to whoever hit Junior's Club?"

In response, she indicated to the ground around them. Looking down, he noticed what he hadn't looked for before – there were numerous rose petals scattered around on the ground. There certainly wasn't a garden in sight, and this dingy alley wasn't quite near the top of Vale's places to have a romantic rendezvous.

"Fair," he conceded, "Interesting. That may be something to look into once we've solved our current little mystery. For now, though, we've got something else to look into."

"...?" Neo tilted her head in confusion as she took a sip of her drink.

"That Dust shop robbery," Roman explained, "We need to look into it. More importantly, it was foiled, so if any of Junior's men were left alive, they'll be in police custody. We need to get at them and find out what they know," he gave her a look, "Before our mysterious quarry does."

He put a hand on the short girl's shoulder. "Neo, my dear. How do you feel about breaking into a holding cell?"

She smirked. "..."

"I knew you'd say that," he grinned as he opened the car door, and they prepared to set off into the night.