A/N: [CONNECTION ESTABLISHED]

GaryOkampo logging on...

!Happy New Year 2020!

Thank you so much for all the support you've given. This chapter was very VERY VEEERRRYY long to write.

Also, I feel a little late to say this:

I do not own RWBY or Red vs Blue as they are the property of Roosterteeth. Nor do I own the songs in this chapter as they belong to their respective artists. This applies to current and future chapters.

Journal Entry 110

Subject: Jaune Arc

I'm not too prideful to admit when I am wrong. Especially when I've misjudged someone. Case in point: Jaune Arc.

My impression of him at first wasn't very….positive. Combat effectiveness was below average, physical strength less than standard, and his grade point average was passable. He was more like a sim-trooper than what I expected of a Huntsman. However recently Jaune has made massive improvements and has become an effective leader. He shows potential for his tactical prowess on the same level as Ruby (in a good way). He still struggles in combat, especially with larger opponents, but his extra training with Pyrrha has increased his chances of survival. When he puts his mind to it, he can surprise you with what he is capable of.

And once you get to know him, you'll find he has more in store.

Beacon Ballroom….

If you were part of the Gulch military–which was mostly everyone–then you had to be trained in the proper etiquette for a military ball. It was quite jarring when after weeks of crawling through the mud in bootcamp, you then had to learn how to put on your dress blues. Then there was knowing the order of the annual events, the different types of military balls, and even how to use certain utensils. To attend your first one could be equated to taking an exam. And like an exam, Wash could see a number of the Infinity's students were a little...reserved.

He figured that since they were on foreign soil, attending what was obviously a formal event, that they would naturally be wearing their dress blues. This would also be the first time for everyone at Beacon to see them out of their armor. Which would naturally direct most (or all) eyes towards them. Wash recognized the dark-blue uniforms and the golden threaded patches on their shoulders showing their rank along with the patch on their breast pocket. Dress pants and skirts neatly ironed lest they show up with a single wrinkle. The most eye catching piece of the outfit, ironically, was the one that covered all of theirs. The bill of each of their military hats cast a shadow long enough to cover their eyes, once again adding more to their mysterious aura. An aspect that was starting to have an effect on the party as a whole.

Standing on the sidelines near the drapes gave a wide view of the entire ballroom. Everyone was keeping their distance, the Beacon and other exchange students stayed in their own groups while the Infinity students did the same. Even Wash could feel the tension was starting to sour the atmosphere, which he was sure Weiss was not taking well. The Gulch native looked at his reflection in the window. He could easily imagine himself in his old dress blues over the suit Jinn made for him. Neatly pressed like the others, he even kinda missed how the collar could feel like it was strangling his neck. The image of himself dressed all formal made him fantasize about being among the others. He'd try to assure them that there was nothing to be nervous about. That he was willing to interact with the other students. Inspired by this, the other students would follow suit and everyone would start to mingle with each other. If he were in the mood, he'd even spend some time on the dance floor. Perhaps with someone.

It was such a happy image, but that was it, an image. He was still a fugitive, possibly listed as MIA in their records, or even dead. That was something that just couldn't happen. Not now, probably never. Wash swirled the punch in his cup in order to rid himself of what could have been. Maybe Epsilon was onto something.

"I take it the punch isn't that good?"

The sound of her voice broke him out of his thoughts. It was the second time he had seen her in that outfit. The first he was caught completely off guard. But now he was more used to it. Still, he couldn't deny that she looked beautiful in it.

"The punch is fine," he said, "Which means Yang didn't spike it, so that's a good sign."

Pyrrha giggled at the idea, "That sounds like something she would do. Although Weiss would not be happy if everyone was in a drunken stupor," she glanced at the scene before her and sighed, "Or perhaps...more disappointed."

Wash raised a curious brow, "That bad?"

Pyrrha jerked her head towards one of the tables attended by the Schnee heiress. It was clear that she was trying just about anything to keep the party lively. Even desperate enough to adjust one of the white roses in the center piece to stand upward. Only for the bud to slump back down, with Weiss' head doing the same.

"It's a shame," Pyrrha said with her sympathies, "After all the planning and effort, only for it to end up like this."

"It's not her fault. Everyone's just," Wash tried to find the right word, "Tense about talking to each other….."

It was quite obvious that the Infinity students were the source of it. Their imposing uniforms and reluctance to socialize with others made it very clear that they were on guard. From what, an attack? A conversation? Whatever the reason, it had the desired effect on the other students and they kept their distance. The Atlas students being the exception. They seemed to take it as a sort of challenge from the equally militaristic nation. Which led to some very aggressive staring contests.

Wash stated under his breath at the sight, "Never realized it was this bad."

It seemed Pyrrha could hear the apology in his words, "It's not your people's fault everyone is currently...uncomfortable."

"True," he agreed, "But I've learned fairly recently, it doesn't hurt to try."

Cue: Log Horizon OST – Eldert Tale no Waltz

The sudden notes from the speakers seemed to break the attendees out of their own little worlds. Normally the start of another song would be met with either indifference or excitement. However for the Infinity students there was confusion and uncertainty. Even so, it was as if the notes were a secret cue as each took the arm of a partner and marched towards the dance floor. The leads placed a hand on their follows' hips and palms and moved in coordination with the music. The sight of each pairs' steps following the beat flawlessly as the notes rose and fell turned the floor into a coordinated performance.

"Huh," Wash crossed his arms with amusement, "Guess Epsilon had the same idea."

Pyrrha stared wide-eyed as she watched in fascination, "What are they doing?"

"It's a simple dance formation," the Gulch native explained, "They taught us this back at the academy when we started learning about formal etiquette."

He saw Pyrrha cover her mouth as she failed to hide her snickering.

Wash raised a curious brow and asked, "What?"

She quickly silenced her laugh, "I-I'm sorry. It's just, I never thought ballroom dancing was something they taught at a military academy."

Wash simply shrugged, "Seems kinda pointless if you don't know how to dance at a military ball."

"True," Pyrrha nodded as she continued to study the students.

The pair continued to watch them dance to the music, Wash with impassive remembrance and Pyrrha with growing fascination. Wash glanced towards his friend and could clearly see the glint in her eyes. It was an expression he rarely noticed on her. Rather than the usual polite smile, she was beaming like a child enraptured by a performance. That made it almost adorable.

She then suddenly said, "Can you show me?"

Wash's eyes widened under his shades, "W-What!? The dance?"

"Yes," Pyrrha nodded excitedly, but looked away with blushing cheeks, "I've...actually never had much experience. Especially in a casual setting."

Wash could already deduce the reason why, "And I'm guessing you never took any lessons because~?"

The Mistral Champion scoffed, "If I did, then it would be by another professional instructor to train me for another competition."

"So you're waiting for the right dance partner," Wash smirked, understanding her dilemma, "How about Jaune?"

Pyrrha's head suddenly jerked, her entire expression enveloped in red, "Wha-!? J-J-Jaune!? Why would you suggest him!?"

Wash's grin grew with her reaction, "I mean...I can't picture you with anyone else."

She turned away in order to hide her emabarrasment, "You spend too much time with Yang," but then looked back with a glare, "Which I take that things have gotten better between you two."

"Actually," Wash chuckled, "It wasn't as bad as I thought it was. But don't try to change the subject. If you want to try this so bad, why not do it with Jaune?"

"If I truly wanted to learn a new dance, I'd rather it be from someone with experience," Pyrrha directed a solemn expression towards her partner, "Besides, Jaune has another dance partner in mind."

The blonde knight in question was seen adjusting his suit before not so subtly preparing to court a certain Schnee heiress. Again.

Memories of their little trip to Jinn's shop flashed in Wash's mind, particularly his advice about men and their "density". He awkwardly chewed his lower lip in realization.

"I guess," Wash placed his cup on a nearby table, "If you really want to."

He offered Pyrrha his hand; which she gladly, and gracefully, accepted.

"We don't need to be on the dance floor," she assured him, "There's enough space around here for us to move and far enough for no one to notice. And if anyone is curious, they'll just think we're a couple of friends trying to copy the other students."

The ex-freelancer was impressed at her observation, it was normally something only he would come up with.

Pyrrha teased with her own smirk, "You're not the only one who knows how to scout a room."

Wash couldn't help but laugh at her remark as he then took the lead.

Due to her social personality, and tendency to visit bars and dance clubs, Yang had developed a unique talent for reading the mood of a party. And with it came being able to read people. Not like what someone ate two days ago or deducing where they live. No, her talent lay more in reading a person's current mood. Whether they were feeling happy, bored, angry, drunk, or angry-drunk; she would find a way to change their attitude. A great skill to have when hosting an event like this.

Honestly she kinda envied Coco for being the event planner instead of her. Granted the fashionista also knew how to get a crowd going. But Yang was sure even team CFVY's leader would've had trouble with this dance. How the students were awkwardly staring at each other, sometimes even with hostility. With the way things were going, and a few aggressive shoulder bumps later, a fight would be bound to breakout. Yang wouldn't have minded, but she wasn't exactly dressed for a brawl.

However that was what would have happened until DJ Epsilon put on a new song. It was like it was some secret signal for the Gulch students to move towards the dance floor. From her welcoming podium she could see the entire ballroom and their talented footwork. Plus it looked like they were having fun. The blonde brawler even saw a couple smile at each other and another sharing a romantic kiss. Glad to see that slow dancing still has that effect on people no matter where they're from.

Although it seems a certain ice queen wasn't getting swept up by the notes. The first hours put the Schnee heiress into one of her "moods". Those little(and big) moments where, no matter what the task, Weiss would give 120% to get it done. Last time she was like this was during one of Ms. Peach's assignments and she didn't want any distractions. Blake kept her distance, but when Ruby whined and wanted to go outside; next thing she knew a glyph sent her into the hallway. Then when the blonde brawler herself tried to secretly copy her notes–well–her new uniform should come in on Wednesday.

So who was the unlucky patsy of Ms. Personality's ire? Well, "unlucky patsy" wasn't really the right word Yang would use; more like "usual victim". It's no secret to team RWBY that Jaune has been trying, and failing, to seduce Weiss with his charm. Not that she was going to say it to his face, but the clumsy knight actually did have some. It was just more in an adorkable sense and there were bound to be some women who found that attractive. It just so happened that Weiss wasn't one of them. Which she had made abundantly clear during each attempt and this time was no different. Some yelling and shoo-ing later, team JNPR's leader sulked away in defeat towards the punch bowl. It seemed he finally took the message which Yang took as her cue to comfort the dork once more.

"You okay there Don-Jaune?" she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Yang. I'm okay," Jaune groaned in defeat, ignoring her pun as he poured himself a new cup, "Just...trying to put my heart back together. Maybe drown my sorrows."

"Can't help you there," Yang sympathetically smiled, "Didn't get the chance to spike the punch this time."

Jaune immediately spat back into his cup, "This time!?"

Yang continued, ignoring his question, "So….I take it the feeling wasn't mutual. Again?"

"Yeah," the self-titled casanova sighed, "I don't understand. I spoke from the heart and everything. And she still told me no."

Yang immediately remembered the ice queen shoving her finger into Jaune's chest, "That was a pretty harsh no."

He poured his cup into a nearby plant as he looked towards the ceiling, "Guess it was never meant to be."

"I don't it think it was meant to be since initiation."

"Ya know," Jaune aimed an annoyed glance towards his fellow blonde, "Isn't this supposed to be the part when you give me some words of encouragement?"

Yang teased, "Why encourage a bad habit?"

Jaune immediately slumped onto the table, "Maybe Wash and Epsilon were right."

"They give you the whole 'fish-and-sea' thing?" she asked.

"Actually it was Epsilon," he clarified, "Wash suggested that I should move on."

Yang crossed her arms in agreement, "He has a point. Ever consider someone...closer?"

"Who? Like Rub-?"

WHAM!

"DOH~!" Jaune coughed when he felt a sudden elbow to his ribs.

"Ha ha good one vomit boy!" Yang sarcastically laughed, "That's a good one! Using my cute and innocent baby sister as your rebound girl. Hilarious!"

"Yeah," he squeaked as he regained his breath, "Hilarious."

"No," Yang stated, "I had another redhead in mind."

Jaune began to sweat at the implication and had to ask, "Y-You don't mean...Pyrrha?"

The self-proclaimed matchmaker raised an obvious brow.

"C-C'mon!" Jaune blushed, waving away the notion like Weiss did with his feelings, "Pyrrha's a prodigy. A four time champion of the Mistral Regional Tournament. She's even the mascot for a cereal. There's got to be hundreds of guys going after her. Probably has a boyfriend already."

Yang still remained unconvinced, "You're her partner aren't you? Have you seen this supposed 'boyfriend'?"

Jaune then sweat dropped, "Ugh-Well, no. She's been a little busy...training me."

"Really~?" she amusingly poured herself a cup of non-spiked punch.

Jaune quickly began scanning the room to find his partner, "B-B-But that doesn't mean she doesn't already have a date to the dance."

The smile hidden by Yang's cup only grew wider with every passing second of the dork's embarrassment. He was making it pretty obvious how he really felt about his partner. Though he may not know it himself, her unique talent revealed that Jaune cherished Pyrrha. Hopefully something will develop soon in the next few years. Things like this can't be rushed after all. Although an occasional kick in the right direction doesn't hurt either.

"Look, see!" Jaune pointed at the prodigy in question, "She's over there dancing with," his tone began to slow, "Dancing...with...Wash…."

It was Yang's turn to choke on her drink. She turned towards where he was pointing and found out he was right. There in a small corner of the ballroom, a place no one would notice if they actually looked, was the pair of them dancing. To not see him in his regular outfit made him almost unrecognizable. He was still in his usual gray-and-yellow color scheme, but the suit and fedora made him seem very...suave. However it wasn't Wash's choice in style that caught her attention. It was the atmosphere surrounding the two. Unlike the rest of the ballroom which was in tense observance, the pair was acting like how you'd expect to act at a dance. They were chatting, laughing, and having a good time.

"Wow," Jaune studied the scene with the same intensity as Yang, "I–uh–I never knew Wash and Pyrrha had grown so close. Since when did that happen?"

Yang didn't answer immediately. Her lilac eyes still focused on the hidden scene she found. They really did seem close. So casual with each other, so open. Wash even brushed off Pyrrha's fervent apologies when she accidentally stepped on his foot. Of course Wash was open with Yang too. They had their own version of chats and playful banter. This was just a different side to him.

"Yeah," the socially adept blonde looked onward, "Since when?"

So much for her unique talent.

Given his experience, both past and recent, Wash was no stranger to pain. He had suffered from gunshots, stab wounds, broken bones, a couple dislocations, an entire list if he kept one. It should be commended that the ex-freelancer still found a reason to go outside. However he had not expected broken toes to be added as well.

"AH-HOW!" he yelped when he felt the heel of his partner's shoe pierce his own.

Pyrrha apologized for the third time, "I'm sorry."

When she told him she didn't have much experience dancing, he wasn't expecting two-left-feet level of bad.

"How is it that you can move so fluidly during a fight," Wash winced, though he tried to cover it with a laugh, "Yet you're terrible at moving to a beat."

Pyrrha stammered, "I-I-I told you I haven't done this before!"

He flexed his toes to see if he could still feel them.

Her green eyes showed her guilt, "If you want to stop-."

"No-No!" Wash cut her off, "It's fine. I'm a little rusty too. And I can endure a little more."

"Are you sure?" Pyrrha looked up with concern.

"I've been through worse," he reassured her before placing his arm back onto her hip and hand, "Just follow my lead."

Pyrrha took a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself and said, "Okay."

Meanwhile, Wash was attuning himself to the song's notes. They were nearing the last quarter so he picked the precise moment to move.

"Alright," Wash nodded, "One ...two ...three. Right!"

He stepped in the specified direction with Pyrrha following. Next his left foot moved backward and she responded with her left forward. Then the same as the first but in the opposite direction. Finally, he stepped with his right and she retreated her own.

"There we go! You're getting it," Wash smiled to which Pyrrha nodded with renewed confidence, "And again."

They repeated the steps, Wash occasionally giving her directions while Pyrrha absorbed it all. She still glanced down at her shoes to make sure she didn't step on his. Wash snickered at the concentrated look on her brow. Even the famed "Invincible Girl" can have her weaknesses. Her reddening ears were also another indication of her vulnerability. Despite a couple close calls, Wash let it slide since she was still a beginner. Soon it began to feel as if though the room began to slowly rotate around them as they fell further into their own little world.

"Good. We're nearing the last few notes," Wash prepared her for what came next, "I'm going to spin you and then we'll bow to each other. You ready?"

"Ready," she responded.

When they heard the the key notes struck, Wash used it as his cue to lead Pyrrha into the final step. The edges of her dress spread outward as she twirled with the same grace when she wielded her spear and shield. For a brief moment she almost looked like she had more experience than she let on. Just as quickly as it started, it was all over. Both partners stepped away from each other and bowed. Wash with the same movements he learned from his academy days and Pyrrha with a curtsy like a noblewoman's.

End: Log Horizon OST – Eldert Tale no Waltz

When he heard the round of applause, he briefly thought it was for them. That their little moment of fun garnered more attention than they wanted. It was when he glanced up that he realized the resounding claps were for the Gulch students. Everyone from the other huntsmen academies were giving them a standing ovation. The students of Infinity even bowed back as a sort of "you're welcome". It lessened the tension in the air than it was before. Once Epsilon put on a more casual song, more and more people started to make their way to the dance floor.

Pyrrha, on the other hand, made her way to an empty seat to rest her tired feet.

"That," she exhaled in relief, "That was fun."

Wash too caught his breath, "It actually kinda was."

"Excuse me sir," a man's voice interjected.

Both turned towards the source and found an Atlesian soldier standing before them. Wash recognized the blue accents on his armor signifying he was an infantryman. Of course his weapons were holstered, but still, carrying them made the ex-freelancer's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"General Ironwood would like to speak to you," the soldier stated bluntly, glancing between him and Pyrrha, "Once you are available."

Wash's eyes widened when he heard the Atlesian general wanted to speak with him. This wasn't just another military-man with some chest candy pinned to his pocket. No, this was a man whose reputation even reached as far as Gulch. Mostly thanks to Project Freelancer's intelligence gathering. He was, and still is, both a highly decorated Huntsman and soldier. The men and women under his command followed his orders without question. It's even said that he fights alongside them during large skirmishes with the Grimm. It was something

Wash both feared and admired, mostly the former. And the man wanted to talk to him.

He glanced towards Pyrrha, ashamed at the idea of leaving her by herself. Especially since she appeared to be tired from their little dance.

Wash asked as he thumbed towards the infantryman, "Umm, Is it ...?"

"It's okay," Pyrrha looked up from her seat, "I'll just rest here for a while. I had a great time with you teaching me," she gave him a forgiving smile, "I'd love to try it again some time."

Wash found himself smiling back, "Yeah, me too."

The Atlesian soldier motioned for him towards the balconies on the upper floor. With every step he took, Wash felt his training take over, the infantryman shadowing behind him didn't help. When he felt the cold night air against his face, his same old habits took over. They were on a stone balcony big enough to hold a decent number of people. It was also far enough from the party that they had some privacy. They were at least two stories up and jumping over the railing to escape would cause more trouble than it was worth. Wash felt his ankles ache when he remembered that particular feeling.

Aside from himself and the soldier, the only other person in the immediate area was Ironwood himself. He was one of the rare few whose size equally matched his reputation. He was larger than most men second to Maine. His white uniform clearly showed that the only wrinkles were at his elbows as he crossed his arms looking over Beacon. The expression on his face was blank, yet somehow, at the same time stern. All it took was for Wash to take one step forward to have him turn towards his direction.

"Agent Washington," General Ironwood greeted rather welcomingly as he stuck out his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The ex-freelancer immediately straightened his posture, saluting the man out of habit, "General Ironwood, sir."

Ironwood was caught off-guard by Wash's behaviour, but chuckled at the sight of him saluting in a tuxedo, "At ease," he then glanced towards the soldier, "That'll be all Private."

The Atlesian infantryman saluted before excusing himself from the balcony.

When they were finally alone, Ironwood smiled, "Though I do appreciate the courtesy, you don't need to be at attention. Much less for an outsider like me."

"Nonetheless sir," Wash relaxed his posture, if only slightly, "You are still a general."

"Well," Ironwood said as he placed his arms behind his back, "Glad to see you still remember."

Wash couldn't help but question the use of his words, "Sir?"

"It's nothing," he disregarded his question, "I'm glad Ozpin gave us this chance to talk."

Wash furrowed his brow when he heard the headmaster's name.

He asked, "Ozpin...let you?"

"Oz and I have been friends for years," Ironwood fondly looked over Beacon, "We've helped each other out on occasion. Your recent outing into Vale for example."

Wash stood there surprised and alerted, "I'm not sure what you–."

"My men and I were investigating reports of an Atlesian Paladin running amok in the city," Ironwood explained, "At first I thought there must have been an error, some prank call by children. That is, until we found what was left of a Paladin prototype underneath the highway. Naturally, I launched an investigation."

"Isn't that the police's job?" Wash asked him.

"When there is a theft of Atlesian property, the Atlesian government and the military will be notified and investigate the matter," the general answered rather passionately, "And since I am here as a representative of both, the chain of command dictates it falls to me."

Every word the man said sent a feeling through Wash's nerves. He just couldn't help but put himself on guard when around him. He couldn't tell if it was his own paranoia or the societal caution put onto words like "Atlesian" when he was growing up.

"During the investigation I was informed that the Paladin was confronted by a team of huntresses. At first I chalked it up to a group of vigilantes, and we couldn't get a description since all the security cameras in the immediate area were either disabled or damaged."

Wash sighed through his nostrils with relief. Epsilon's EMP must have shorted some of the cameras and their little gunfight on the highway took out a few more.

"I was about to close the case. However a witness then came forward," Ironwood peered down towards Wash, which he was clearly tensing under, "And they described four young women engaging the Paladin. One of them who just so happened to wear a red cape and carried a large scythe."

Wash's knuckles whitened as he continued to listen. He wanted to chew on his cheek or his lip, but it was the indecision on which one that was stopping him.

General Ironwood simply narrowed his eyes at the ex-freelancer's silence, and then he sighed, "Look, talking in such hidden tones is exhausting and unnecessary. We're soldiers, not spies. So I'm just going to say it."

His back straightened to make him seem more larger than he already was as he began to pace around him.

"I know team RWBY conducted an unsanctioned operation into Vale. Since you were assigned to them as support, I can assume you were there also. Operating without an authorized Huntsman license or approval of an Academy is illegal after all. My next step would have been informing the Atlesian council as well as Beacon. Ozpin can ensure your continuing attendance. However, team RWBY would have faced possible suspension or even be expelled."

Wash could feel the air around him grow cold and tense with every step the general took. The invisible circle of his bootsteps acted both as a cage and an interrogation room that he couldn't escape from. It was a stark reminder of when he was debriefed by Project Freelancer. Only this time he could clearly see the man talking to him. Which somehow made the situation even worse.

"However," he suddenly stopped behind the former agent, "Ozpin asked me to withhold my findings. Of course I questioned why, but he refused to tell me. I was very adamant to release my report," he heard the man's gloves straining behind his back, "But then he told me to trust him as an old friend."

Hearing that helped lighten Wash's mood a little. He didn't know why, but the fact that Ozpin was able to annoy a man like Ironwood was amusing. It definitely sounded like something Beacon's headmaster would say.

"And as an old friend I would have happily done it. For the time being. But I still wanted a good enough reason," the Atlesian general marched towards the concrete railings before turning back to his interviewee, "He then offered me the chance to talk to you."

Wash knew that he couldn't stay silent any longer, "And why is that?"

"Well," Ironwood's posture loosened, "First, I wanted to thank you for assisting us with tracking down Project Freelancer. Your information has been invaluable to our hunt for the Director."

The former project member frowned with clear suspicion, "You threatened to expel my friends just to say thank you?"

Ironwood glanced towards the ground, his face apologetic, "Despite what I said earlier, I appreciate what you and your team did. Those weapons should never have fallen into enemy hands, much less the White Fang's. Even if it was unauthorized, you still completed your mission. Which brings us to the main topic of this discussion."

Wash mentally prepared himself for whatever he had planned, "Which is?"

The Atlesian general's response was a simple clear smile, "How would you like to join Atlas' Ace Operatives Unit?"

Beacon Dorms….

If there was an aspect of Butch Flowers that you'd never suspect, is that he loves pranks. More specifically the reaction on people's faces. The brief moment of shock and fear on their face when their seemingly normal day is unexpectedly interrupted. It didn't even have to be complicated. Something as simple as jumping in front of someone shouting "boo!" was enough for him. He valued that famous saying about the priceless look on one's face.

It was amazing the variety of reactions a person can make. However his most favorite of them is irritation. An expression that the blue freelancer was finding more prominent on a certain dust witch's face. At least from what he could see from his vantage point. It wasn't noticeable to most, even subtle enough to be missed to the average man. But the brief crease in her brow, the quick twitch of her eyelids, and the quiet growl from her throat; she may as well have been throwing a fit. He would have waited to see how it progressed. But he knew operating under a cool head is the preferred mental state during an op.

So he came down from his spot on the smokestacks, his training quieting his landing. Slowly he approached her from behind hoping to catch her off-guard. Maybe he would pull a little prank of his own and see her reaction.

"Well this is a surprise," Cinder looked back with an icy stare, "You're actually on time for once."

Or perhaps not.

Flowers shrugged off his missed opportunity, "We're about to conduct a mission aren't we?"

Cinder raised an inquisitive brow, before resuming her recon of the CCT tower, "Did you acquire your 'back-up plan'?"

He eventually decided to take the spot next to her, "You can never be too careful."

"Caution can also be what holds one back," her expression returned to it's neutral and professional look, "Emerald and Mercury have already entered the ballroom. Seems the party is having a slow start."

"Well that's a shame," Flowers expressed a melodramatic sigh, "No one likes a boring party."

"Apparently the Gulch students brought down the mood," Cinder grinned, "They don't seem to share your care-free nature."

"I like to think that I am welcomingly refreshing," Flowers adjusted his gloves with pride, "But I can also be serious when the need arises."

Cinder huffed, "Does this mean I'll get to see Agent Florida, the Director's most trusted freelancer, at work?" she then glanced over his armor unimpressed, "Be sure not to disappoint me."

Flowers knew why she was skeptical. His armor never really stood out much in comparison to the other freelancers. It even had less protection compared to regular ODST armor. There have been pros and cons over the years, but Agent Florida saw no need to discard something if it was still useful.

"I believe this is supposed to be a joint operation," the agent redirected her distrust, "So the same should apply to you too."

"I never disappoint," she declared with a stern gaze, but then smirked, "So you better be prepared for my 'bragging rights'."

Flowers stood there unperturbed by her confidence, "We'll see. The night is still young."

Cinder checked her scroll, most likely counting down the minutes before they head out. Both were mentally preparing themselves for the mission ahead. However one of them also had another objective for tonight. The blue freelancer tapped the "back-up plan" he had stashed on his belt, reconfirming that it was still there. Thank the gods that his visor was covering the smile forming on his face. He was looking forward to seeing the look on hers.

Beacon Ballroom….

For those few seconds it was like Wash's brain had forgotten which part was for speaking. He simply stood there caught off guard by the question that was just asked. Perhaps too long for the general.

"Agent Washington?" Ironwood looked over him with concern.

Wash was snapped out of his thoughts, "You-You want me...to join the Atlesian Military?"

"Not just the military," Ironwood clarified, "The Ace Operatives are composed of the best and brightest from our academy. You'd have to enroll of course," he laughed, "And we'll be sure to put you in the proper year. Although with your experience you're bound to graduate much earlier than most."

The man's tone was hauntingly familiar, which worsened Wash's suspicions. Ironically it also helped him regain his senses.

"You can save the recruitment speech," the ex-freelancer growled, "I didn't need one to enlist back home, and I don't need one now."

Ironwood almost sounded happy with himself, "So I've convinced you?"

"Not what I meant," Wash stated rather clear, "What about Beacon? I can't just up and leave."

"It's not uncommon for Huntsmen academies to have transfer students," Atlas' general, who was also it's academy's headmaster, added with conviction, "As to your identity, we can give you a new one. Or perhaps even your old one? I'm sure you weren't always Agent Washington."

Wash found himself staring at the ground. How long has it been since he last used his name? His real name? Hell, when was the last time that he truly heard it and didn't sneer at it's utterance? His safety wouldn't even be an issue. Atlas and it's academy was basically a fortress within a fortress. Even his old unit would have trouble crossing into their borders. However there was another thing.

"But," he glanced up with hesitation, "What about-?"

"Your friends?" a sympathetic expression formed on Ironwood's normally stern face, "I understand that you have already formed meaningful connections with some of the students here. And it would be wrong of me take you away from them," he then slowly put a hand on Wash's shoulder, "But ask yourself this. Wouldn't you want to put your skills to better use?"

There was something about the man's arm that felt ...odd. It was more solid than simple muscle mass and for a moment it felt rather cold through his white glove.

Wash glanced at the hand occupying his shoulder, both out of concern and curiosity, "Better use?"

"I've read your file when Ozpin and I arranged your enrollment into Beacon. It's quite an impressive record. Even if you weren't the best freelancer in your squad, you were still one of their top ranked agents," his expression suddenly hardened, "Yet Ozpin would rather have you interacting with children rather than sharpen those very skills," he quickly removed his hand before he continued, "I have no doubts in his teachings nor that these students may be the best huntsmen and huntresses of their generation. But they are still children. Which makes them unprepared for what is out there."

"The Grimm," Wash implied.

Ironwood was uncharacteristically silent for a few moments as he looked up towards the shattered moon in the sky.

He tightly gripped his arm like it was in pain and said, "There are far more worst monsters out there than you'll ever know."

Wash was no stranger to the hidden meaning behind one's words. So what was Ironwood implying? Was he talking about the White Fang and their recent activities? They have been on the rise lately, more confident, and more bold. Most likely he was talking about their "benefactor". Someone who was able to unite both the White Fang and Project Freelancer, two organizations who were at each other's throats, yet somehow got them to cooperate. However looking into something like that falls to the police. Or the military.

General Ironwood turned to hopefully his new recruit, "That's why I need people like you by my side. People who know what it truly takes to complete the mission. Someone who can follow orders. If we are to preserve this peace we have, then we must do everything in our power to keep it that way. Not getting into food fights or planning parties!"

His temper was clearly starting to show which put Wash on his guard. He felt like he should get into a fighting stance if something were to happen. If it weren't for the sudden sounds of upbeat music, cheering, and laughter; then the general wouldn't have relaxed somewhat.

"My...apologies," Ironwood breathed through his nose and out his mouth, "I have been told I can come off a bit imposing when I become passionate."

Washington eased the tension in his fists, which gave him the courage to finally ask, "What if I say no?"

The Atlesian General was silent for a few moments until he spoke, "Then I'll respect your wishes. Despite what I've said, I don't want to force you to do anything you do not want."

As he returned to the party, he was only a couple steps behind Wash when he added, "My offer will remain open as long as I am here. So you will have until the end of the Vytal Festival to think about it. And if you really choose to stay at Beacon, I sincerely hope you find a damn good reason."

Wash couldn't tell if the encouragement in his last statement was genuine or sarcastic, all he could do was turn towards the general and watch him until he left the balcony.

His farewell was a simple, "Enjoy the party."

Now Wash stood alone on the balcony as his mind replayed the conversation he had until each word was memorized. He couldn't help but feel that Ironwood brought up a good argument. Beacon, and even Vale in particular, was nothing like Project Freelancer or Gulch. Most didn't have the discipline and tactical knowledge that a soldier usually had. Teams RWBY and JNPR were the farthest thing from a well-oiled fireteam. Not that they were terrible fighters, their recent outings were proof of that. It was that they were trained for an entirely different purpose. From what he witnessed and researched, the kingdoms and their respective academies prioritized learning to fight Grimm first and people second. In Gulch the curriculum was reversed. Wash couldn't fly or propel himself across the battlefield like Yang and the others. His semblance wasn't that powerful; and heightened senses can do very little to nothing against a Deathstalker or a King Taijitu. His weapon didn't even have a melee form, even Jaune's sheath could double as a shield.

Wash's thoughts on the matter seemed to unconsciously bring him back to the ballroom. Of course after the talk he just had, he didn't feel like interacting with anyone. So he simply leaned over the railing from the second floor as he watched everyone with smiles on their faces. It was a far cry from the atmosphere during those tense opening hours. Now the dance floor was practically overflowing with students and also the teachers. The entire room seemed more packed than before, it would be easy to get lost among a sea of people.

However for Wash, it didn't take long for him to find his literal circle of friends. He honestly questioned how long he had been gone, because apparently Jaune had changed from his tuxedo into a white dress. Wash couldn't help but laugh at the site yet at the same time was happy to see him dancing with Pyrrha. She was clearly enjoying herself as she laughed and moved to the music without a care. The rest of their teammates, plus Sun and Neptune, surrounded them with a fervor of cheers. Yang even whistling at Jaune as he showed off his stunning dance skills while Sun was practically shouting. Wash wouldn't blame them that they didn't notice him watching.

Consequently, the entire scene brought up another important topic to his mental debate. Was Beacon really the right place for him? Not just as a student, but as young man hanging out with friends. Even back in Gulch he didn't really act his age. He had friends, though looking back he was more focused on his training then socializing. He tried to be better here with varying degrees of success. The truth of the matter was that his situation made it difficult to act like a typical nineteen-year-old. Even if Project Freelancer were to never find him, the thought that they were still out there will always linger at the back of his head. His own paranoia would prevent him from simply enjoying any moment of peace. How long until that would affect the very friends he just gained? How it would bring down their morale and sense of unity. Or worse, will they eventually grow sick of his bullshit? Epsilon jokingly called him a buzzkill, but the last thing he wanted was for it to be true. These festering thoughts made the ex-freelancer sigh to himself as he scratched his neural implant. His A.I. fragment was busy and he couldn't very well talk to his friends about this. Wash would never forgive himself if he were to ruin the mood.

Cross Continental Transmit system Tower….

Emerald's report was the signal that the mission was a go. The newly reignited party meant no one was going to walk in on their little "infiltration excursion". It was already 10:45pm, eleven minutes later than she originally planned. Their timetable had accelerated and that fact alone annoyed her. They had until midnight until people started to tire out. So that meant they had to get this done fast.

As Cinder predicted, the soldiers began to relax as their shift was nearly over. Which made it easier for her to approach one of the guards on the perimeter from behind. One swift and precise strike to the helmet was enough to knock him out. As she caught his unconscious body, the sounds of silent struggling redirected her attention towards the second guard. Agent Florida had done the same with his, both agreeing earlier that dead guards would cause more of a stir. They quickly hid the Atlas soldiers in a nearby bush and reconvened at the main entrance.

Florida was the first to open the door, "After you."

Cinder stated bluntly, "I don't need chivalry."

"Of course you don't," he agreed in a serious tone, "I'm just letting you take point."

She scoffed at his retort as they strode down the hall. Just as her subordinates reported, there were four guards present on the ground floor. Two patrolled the lower level while the other pair were at the top of the stairs near the center pillar. One of the guards immediately spotted them, spouting the standard "halts" and "restricted area". Quite a contradiction since they were the ones treating public property like an outpost. Aside from that, his spouting gave her enough time to get close and knock him out with a strike to his exposed jaw. Another charged from the side with his sword drawn. Cinder was prepared to counter with a kick, but the guard was intercepted with a flying blue kneepad to the face. His body was sent skidding to the bottom of the steps while his sword spun in the air. Agent Florida had caught it by the handle effortlessly.

The rest of the guards leaped from the top so they could confront them. Both would have landed, but an Atlesian sword was thrown into the shoulder of one in midair. When the other guard called his comrade's name, Cinder took that as her chance and activated the seams in her outfit. She could feel the heat from the patches of Dust she sowed into her clothes. In nearly a second she had formed her own swords.

The guard was clearly more experienced as he blocked her strike and exchanged blows with their respective weapons. Even if he had skill, he was still no match for her and in one strike ended it quickly. Agent Florida approached the last man standing, or rather crawling, as the guard tried to contact reinforcements. However Florida stopped him with a swift stomp to the head. Cinder could hear the echo throughout the room when the helmet cracked under his boot. She would be lying if she didn't admit she was a little impressed. With his calm and casual mannerisms, the blue freelancer's brutality was unexpected….and entertaining.

Agent Florida turned to her and gave a playful salute before they made their way to the elevators. It seemed destiny was on her side this night as one had already arrived. The last two guards came strolling out, unaware of what had transpired. Cinder reacted quickly by combining her two swords into their bow form and fired one of her Dust enhanced arrows. Meanwhile Agent Florida took the sidearm of the concussed guard and fired. Both projectiles hit their respective targets as the soldiers fell to the ground.

Cinder knew her arrows wouldn't kill their target, merely render them unconscious for the next few hours. However she could not say the same for Atlas weaponry. Especially when one of the guards was shot in the head.

"I explicitly ordered no bodies," Cinder reprimanded him.

Agent Florida didn't answer, but responded by showing that the sidearm was set to stun. Cinder narrowed her eyes at his odd behaviour. Normally he would be playfully teasing her or just be uncomfortably nice. But he hasn't uttered a single word since they entered the tower.

She glanced at the clock on her scroll. It was 10:55pm. The time alone was enough to redirect her focus to the task at hand. Whatever her curiosity, this took priority. All her future plans were dependent on this very night.

Beacon Ballroom….

Ever since enrolling into Beacon, Ruby had repeatedly shown that socializing was not her strong suit. Honestly she was more than content with just standing near the punch bowl or sitting at a distant table so that no one would notice her. That is until her ever more out-going and party-loving sister dragged her to where everyone else was. Ruby groaned at the thought of being surrounded by people in her current attire. She was having a hard enough time walking in these mini-stilts. Was she going to do any better dancing? Though she guessed being amongst her friends made it more bearable. At least seeing Jaune dancing in a dress was distracting enough from her social anxiety.

Ruby wanted to know why her first friend at Beacon(sorry Weiss) did a sudden wardrobe change. She remembered him approaching Pyrrha so they could talk. A few minutes later Pyrrha came back and had to deal with a crowd of fans. Then suddenly out comes Jaune with his arms exposed and white satin wrapped around his pecs. Ruby heard something about promises and "an Arc always keeps his word" and he boldly asks his partner for a dance. Pyrrha gladly accepted and the rest of team JNPR joined in for a sudden choreographed performance. Next thing she knew, everyone was cheering and joining in. Despite the weird turn of events, Jaune and Pyrrha were enjoying themselves. Soon her friends started taking turns moving to the center of their circle. Thank goodness Yang was so focused on showing off that Ruby could just stand there clapping to the music.

Once the song started to die down, everyone began to relax. Ruby took the chance to sneak away while everyone was having fun. She yawned from her growing exhaustion. Even if this wasn't her kind of scene, she still had a good time. But a girl has her limits and her comfy hanging bed, a plate of cookies, and maybe a comic or two sounded pretty welcoming right now. She looked over the ballroom, getting one last look at the whole thing before they start their missions tomorrow. That's when she spotted Wash leaning on the railing on the second floor. Of course he was able to find a hiding spot from everything. Next time they go to a party, she's sticking with him. From his vantage point he easily spotted her and what she planned to do. Ruby could see the smirk on his face as he waved to her goodnight. She did the same and left.

It was a lot colder than she expected when she stepped outside. Now she was really missing her hood. Add to that, if she wasn't in these stupid heels she would have used her semblance to get back to the dorm. So now she had to walk and grumble at her sore feet. It would have gone on for much longer had she not spotted something in the bushes. At first she thought it was some stick, until she found that stick to be covered in Atlesian armor. Ruby recognized him as one of the guards assigned to the CCT Tower.

An unconscious man near an important location, could it get anymore suspicious?

However she couldn't just investigate without a weapon. With a command sent from her scroll, she heard the sounds of her locker launching and then crashing nearby. It automatically opened and revealed her precious Crescent Rose. Ruby smiled as she traced her fingers against that familiar red steel. Looks like she was going to have some more fun tonight after all.

CCT Tower: Communications Floor….

Since they took out all of the guards on patrol, naturally that left no other obstacles towards her–their objective. Cinder just needed to upload the program into the CCT Tower and the ball will start rolling downhill for Beacon. Agent Florida took a position near the elevator, watching for any reinforcements while she sat at the desk waiting for the upload to complete. Let it not be said to Watts that Project Freelancer knows how to construct code. If she let the old bat program it like she originally planned, than it would have taken longer than expected. Now it was at 75% in half the time.

Emerald suddenly reported, "A party guest is leaving."

Of course nothing goes smoothly.

Cinder sighed, "Which one?"

"...Ironwood."

She wasn't surprised. A man like Ironwood isn't the type for socializing. It's also what made him so predictable.

"I guess the general has had enough fun for one night," Mercury chirped in, "Should we intervene?"

Before she could think of her next steps, she heard the resounding pings on the monitors throughout the floor.

"No~," Cinder announced happily, "We're done here."

All that was left was to leave the tower and vanish into the night. However the sudden ding from the elevator immediately prompted her to be on the alert. Agent Florida was supposed to warn her if someone was coming. However she found he had disappeared. Cinder didn't have time to be mad, cause the second the doors opened, she immediately hid behind the desk. Even if Ironwood was planning to come here, there's no way that he could have arrived here so fast. Plus she was sure that the guards didn't get the chance to radio for backup. So who was coming up?

She could hear the clicking of heels against the floor. Cinder highly doubted that Atlas lets their female troops wear stilettos into battle.

"Hello?" the voice announced to supposed empty floor, "Is anyone there?"

It sounded familiar, very familiar. Cinder growled when she realized who it was. The first time she met her was on a rooftop on Vale when she interfered with her plans. The second time was when they arrived at Beacon disguised as Haven students. For a moment Cinder was concerned that the little red would recognize her. Thankfully it seemed the girl didn't. Cinder remembered her name to be Ruby Rose when looking over the student roster. Meeting once is chance, two is a coincidence, but three times?

Three times is a potential threat.

"Hello?" Ruby asked again.

Cinder found herself smiling at the opportunity. Destiny did seem to be in her favor this night. She stepped out from her hiding spot, confidence glowing without a care.

"Ya know," the girl quipped as she readied her scythe, "It's not a masquerade party. So why don't you-!"

Before she could utter some cliche one-liner, Cinder drew one of the Dust canisters from her hip. Her semblance transformed it into glass shards which she sent flying towards her opponent. Ruby used a shot from her scythe to send her back and dodge. Once she was far enough, she fired multiple sniper rounds towards her. Cinder could feel a piece of the maiden's powers flowing through her as she blocked each of the shots with her hand. Ruby saw it was pointless and launched herself with her blade ready to strike. Cinder quickly formed her swords and blocked her attack. She made another swing to which Cinder blocked once more. It was a repeated cycle of attack and defend that was already consuming seconds. With a kick to the girl's stomach, Cinder used it as her chance to jump back and form her bow in midair. She had her arrows at the ready for the final strike. Her eyes suddenly widened at her target.

As if out of nowhere, Agent Florida appeared behind Ruby without her knowing. She didn't even get the chance to react as she found an arm wrapped around her neck in a tightening grip. The girl flailed with reckless abandon, elbows to the side and stomps to his boots that had no effect against the blue freelancer's armor. Ruby's precious scythe clattered to the ground and the little red was now unconscious in Florida's arms.

Cinder would've lowered her bow, but her aim was still true. Oh how easy it would be to send an arrow through her heart. Three times is potential threat after all, why risk a fourth? If Agent Florida hadn't already placed her on the floor, she would have. But it was the way his visor displayed her reflection back at her. She didn't need the message. There mission wasn't over yet.

Cinder growled at the silent freelancer, "I know. We need to leave."

For the second time tonight the elevator began it's trek to their floor. Cinder's frustration flared at the unending interruptions. She aimed her arrow at the door prepared to fire at whoever stepped out. However, Agent Florida once again stopped her as he stood in the way.

"What are you doing!?" she demanded.

Agent Florida didn't answer, but pulled out a device from one of his compartments. Cinder narrowed her eyes with both caution and suspicion. This couldn't be a double cross. Not after everything that just happened. The Director would never be this reckless.

Before she could even think of letting loose her arrow, the blue freelancer was already face-to-face with her. Cinder was rarely surprised. How did he move so fast? She never got the chance to react as Agent Florida wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Best close your eyes," he said.

For the slowest of seconds, Cinder's entire vision was enveloped by light. Once the brightness died down, she shoved the blue freelancer away. Perhaps harder than she wanted as she found herself colliding with a wooden table. Wait, wood!? How can there be wood in the CCT Tower!? Cinder removed her mask to wipe away her blurred vision so she could find out just where the hell she was. It was quite a shock when she found out.

She recognized the flowers that surrounded them and the white gazebo they stood under. This was the very same garden they met a few days ago. But how!? They were just in the tower and now they were on the far side of campus.

She snarled at Agent Florida, "What-!?"

The words couldn't be formed as a sudden feeling spread all over her body. It started in her stomach and then traveled upward to her throat. Cinder tried covering her mouth and breathed through her nose to suppress it. Yet no matter how much oxygen she took in, it refused to stop. Eventually it became too much and Cinder leaned over the gazebo's railing and emptied her stomach.

"Observation recorded," Agent Florida spoke in a professional tone, "It appears Nausea is a side effect of the teleportation grenade. Awaiting secondary test to reconfirm."

Cinder glared at the freelancer who was speaking into the walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

Agent Florida glanced between her and his device before explaining, "Oh, don't worry. It also makes recordings, so you don't have to worry about someone hearing. Just making a note for my report."

Cinder's anger showed no sign of dispersing. So now he chooses to speak?

"Are you feeling sick?" he asked, "I can hold back your hair when you–."

Before he could take another step, he found a familiar sword pointed at his throat, prompting him to raise his hands. She could see her reflection on that visor and could see her own expression. Narrowed eyes, gritted teeth, her canines clearly showing, all clear signs of her rage.

Cinder snarled, "Explain."

She didn't see the need to add a threat. A sword aimed at your jugular is an obvious indication.

"Please," she mentally pleaded, "Say something ridiculous so I can cut your head off."

Agent Florida didn't answer immediately as he stared at the sword and the woman gripping it.

He slowly moved the sword away before speaking, "I did say I was going to bring a back-up plan didn't I?"

Cinder's glare deepened with a hiss, "And that was it."

"Remember that party favor the Director was developing?" Agent Florida reached for his compartment, briefly stopping when she re-aimed her blade, but then took out what appeared to be a glowing cube, "This is it."

He handed her the device and allowed her to look over it. The cube was no more the size of a grenade with blunt spikes on the corners. However it wasn't the shape that drew her attention, but rather pulsing orange circuitry that covered the mechanism.

Agent Florida explained, "What you are holding is a prototype portable teleportation device we've dubbed the 'Teleportation Grenade'."

"How creative," Cinder deadpanned.

"I'll spare you the science," he laughed as he continued, "In short, you can program a set of coordinates and it transports you there once activated. Since what you are holding is a prototype, it has a limited range of three kilometers. Of course we plan to increase it after we run some more tests."

The brief explanation did help calm Cinder's agitated nerves. She began to see the practical applications for such a device. Countless possibilities and potential targets laid before her. Even more so if Project Freelancer could improve it further.

"I don't appreciate being a lab rat," she tossed back the cube and walked past the freelancer, "You would have impressed me if you brought me to the ballroom as planned."

"Unfortunately it still needs to be tested," Agent Florida explained before asking, "But are you are sure that's a good idea?"

Cinder stopped before looking back at him, "It's part of the plan."

"The plan has already changed," Florida pointed out as he began to count off his fingers, "You didn't expect someone to come to the tower so soon. Then have a fight with them thus garnering more attention. If I didn't use the Teleportation Grenade, we would have caused quite a commotion. Now you want to try to make it to a dance that is on the other side of campus. Especially when security is probably on higher alert."

Cinder gritted her teeth as he waved his five fingers. It pissed her off more that she didn't think of that first. She wanted so much to rip off that blue helmet and cut off the head that was under it. But it wouldn't be satisfying in the long run. If she were to see his face, it should either carry an expression of fear or intimidation. Right now it is neither. And losing an asset and ally in one night would not look good for her. Cinder hated to admit it but the man had a point, so for now she'll give him the satisfaction of being right.

Cinder begrudgingly sighed, "Fine. What do you suggest?"

"Well~," Agent Florida reached under a bench, procuring a thermos, "We completed a successful mission and no one isn't around," he poured himself a cup of brown liquid, "Care to have some celebratory coffee?"

As if destiny was mocking her, a cool breeze brushed against Cinder's exposed skin, prompting her to have something warm. She joined him under the gazebo as he handed her another cup.

"If you can program any destination within a two mile radius," Cinder asked as she took a seat, "Why choose this location?"

Agent Florida sat on the bench opposite of her.

He looked over the garden before turning back, "Isn't it obvious? Where else can you get a view like this?"

Cinder faux smiled back at the freelancer, however in her mind she was plotting. Soon this little game of cat-and-mouse for secrets and motives will come to an end. A game that this Fall Maiden planned to win.

Beacon Ballroom….

The party started to die down once midnight already passed. What started as a tense gathering had turned into an exciting event. An event that had exhausted all those that attended. The once bustling ballroom filled with music died down as more and more returned to their dorms in order to prepare for tomorrow. Now all that was left was too clean up the ballroom. Wash placed his blazer on a table and rolled up his sleeves as he grabbed a broom. Yang had already started with folding chairs, prepping them to gather dust in the storage room. Meanwhile she re-told the story of Jaune's sudden wardrobe change.

"And then vomit boy says, 'An Arc never goes back on his word,'" she snickers with her impression of the adorkable knight, "He asks for her to dance. And Pyrrha takes it like there's nothing else going on. Then team JNPR puts on this coordinated dance. It was awesome."

"Wait," Wash immediately stopped his sweeping, "Pyrrha danced? Perfectly?"

Yang laughed as she hefted another pair of chairs under each arm, "Yeah, those guys looked really in sync."

Wash flexed his sore toes, "Funny, I didn't get that impression."

Yang simply snickered at her friend's gripes, "I'm sure they practiced or something before all this. But it was still awesome, got the whole party going too."

"I'll admit," Wash agreed with her as he swept into the dustpan, "Things did have a rocky start. But they eventually did get better."

Epsilon announced from the stage, "And who do you think played an important and vital role through it all? You're welcome by the way."

"Yes, thank you Epsilon," Wash appeased the rants from his A.I.F, "It was actually kinda fun."

"Did I hear that right?" Yang paused for a moment before cheering, "Oh my gosh! It's a miracle! Wash actually used the F-word."

"Oh man, I wish I recorded that," Epsilon facetious whined.

Wash frowned at there teasing, "Don't sound so surprised. I can have fun."

Yang placed the chairs against the wall as she continued to snicker, "Oh I believe that you believe you can have fun," she placed a hand under her chin, "Then again, it seemed like it when you were with Pyrrha."

Wash again paused his sweeping before answering, "Y-You saw that?"

"Oh I saw it alright," she turned away with a laugh, "Didn't know that you could dance like that Wash. Smooth~."

"It's not like that!" he said, his neck starting to feel warm, "She was just...curious about dancing, so I offered to show her."

Yang continued as she folded one of the table cloths, "Maybe that Atlas soldier should've waltzed right in sooner. Save your toes from further damage."

Wash sighed at not only her pun, but also for her teasing.

"Speaking of," her tone suddenly turned neutral, "What was that about anyway?"

Wash replied, "The soldier? It…."

His eyes narrowed at the memory of the conversation that followed. Ironwood's offer of joining the Ace Ops and his sales pitch replayed in his head. Along with the internal debate the ex-freelancer had with himself. Should he tell Yang? No, that would ruin what was already such a good night.

"It doesn't matter," he finally answered.

"Waaaash~," Yang criticized, her eyes showing her disapproval, "After everything that's happened, you better not-."

Wash fervently waved his hands as he explained, "I-I-I mean it doesn't matter right now! We have missions tomorrow and we still need to find Roman's hideout. What happened earlier doesn't have any connection with that and it shouldn't distract you," his tone became serious, "And I don't want to take that risk."

Yang was silent for a few moments before she cooed, "Awww~. Not only can you have fun but you have a heart too."

Wash said as he marched to her, "Yang, I'm just looking out for you."

She quickly intercepted him by shoving a fist into his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

"And I'm being serious," Yang explained with a determined glare, "I know you're our 'support-guy', but that doesn't mean you're not part of the team. Just like with Blake, you're not alone. If this is important to you than we need to talk about it. Maybe not tomorrow or even this week. But when there's a chance, we will have a heart-to-heart," she then smirked, "Whether you want to or not."

Wash stood there dumbfounded at her declaration. Honestly he shouldn't be surprised by Yang's attitude. She always seemed to have this gift of noticing others' feelings and how to address them.

"Yeah," he chuckled in agreement, "When there's a chance."

"I'm still bummed though," Yang huffed as she strolled to the dance floor, "Whatever it was, it must've been something big that you couldn't join us."

"Sorry about that," Wash apologized, "But I did get a good look of Jaune. Guy surprisingly knows how to work white satin."

Yang's back was too him, but he couldn't help but notice a slight coloration on her ears.

"Actually," she scratched her cheek with a nervous laugh, "I was hoping to see you dance."

"Huh?" Wash raised a brow until he understood, "O-Oh~."

She couldn't mean….

Yang quickly added with a snicker, "I mean the look on your face while doing it in front of a bunch of people would've been priceless. You could've been back on my good side too after what you did with my bike."

"Oh," Wash sighed.

Of course not. He mentally slapped himself at even thinking of such a thing. After everything that's happened, he couldn't forget about the state of Bumblebee. Plus Yang wouldn't pass up the chance for a good laugh.

Cue: Steven Universe OST – Here Comes a Thought

The pair looked towards the stage, completely aware of who is responsible. A life-size hologram of Epsilon formed at the soundboard as he adjusted the many slides and dials.

The A.I.F waved as he said, "Just wanted to close the night with a good song."

The only two people left in the ballroom stared at each other, taking in the whole scenario. Wash could see Yang's smirk and the playful way she raised her eyebrows. He knew what she was asking for. If he backed out now because he thought it was a hassle, than it would cause more trouble than it's worth. Plus, admittedly, a part of him felt guilty for not joining them earlier.

Wash scratched the back of his neck when he asked, "The floor still open?"

Yang confidently offered her hand with a reply, "If you think your feet can handle it."

Like before, he took his friend's hands and guided her to the beat of the song. They would dance in a circle a couple times to acclimate with the others' strides. Contrary to what she said earlier, Yang easily avoided Wash's feet as she matched his steps perfectly. However unlike Pyrrha, Yang showed that she had experience with this sort of thing. Which to Wash was surprising and...nice.

He couldn't help but ask, "Just where did you learn to do this?"

"Ya know most people don't know this," Yang replied in mock offense, yet still carried a smile, "But even a nightclub can put on an occasional slow song sometimes. But that's not the only thing I picked up."

It was then that she took the lead, catching Wash utterly off-guard as he followed. He had never heard of any dance style where the follow suddenly takes the lead. Than again this is Yang he was talking about. This was probably her own style, so it was best to just play along. She had already spun around, her back now laying against his chest.

"Didn't expect that now, did ya?" she teased, looking up at him with her lilac eyes, "Don't worry, just follow my steps. And try not to kick at my heels."

Wash felt his cheeks warm at her gaze, causing him to stutter, "Uh, I-I'll try."

Never, with all his training in formal etiquette, was Wash prepared for something like this. He could feel his heart beat as he tried to keep in line with her steps. He hoped Yang didn't feel it pulsing against her bare back. Looking forward, trying to focus on something else didn't help. Dang it! Now he was smelling her perfume. He hated how it smelled so good. How the hell do you get a fragrance like sunflowers!?

Thank goodness she was so enraptured with his torment that she misinterpreted it as anxiety.

"You're doing pretty good," Yang said brimming with confidence, "Most guys would freak out when I take over."

Wash saw her wink at him and knew just what she was implying. She was enjoying herself too much. Ever since he met her, Yang always had that domineering personality that just pushes you. He wouldn't admit it to her, gods she doesn't need more power, but he admired that fire. It was like facing a rival who would challenge you and you'd come out better in the end. Maybe that's what snapped him out of his stupor. He wanted to meet this challenge like he always has.

Wash suddenly spun her away, their hands still connected, but now facing each other. It was worth seeing the look on Yang's face when she suddenly lost the lead role. Wash couldn't help but smirk victoriously.

"I can adapt," he said.

He brought her back to him, his hand back on her hip. Yang's recovery was quick when she felt her hand on his shoulder.

She said in a challenging tone, "Hope you got more than just moving in circles."

"Oh I was just showing Pyrrha the basics," Wash responded unfazed, "And I learned much more than that."

It seemed fitting that the song was already half-way through. The benefit of dancing in the open rather than a corner was that it let's one be more creative. Every so often Wash twirled Yang around at those key moments in the song. She showed a surprising amount of grace with her movements. However Yang has never been one to easily submit. She would gesture him to spin her outward and he would oblige her. Yang would then twirl into his arms, her back against his chest like before and take the lead. Only now she kept the same rhythm as Wash.

So began a cycle of exchange of the lead role between them. It was no longer a challenge of who followed who. Instead they were willingly let the other take charge. Had anyone stayed behind, they would have been awestruck by their synchronicity. Neither of them were going to say it, but a part of them didn't want the song to end and go on for just another second. But sadly time remains to be a constant limiter. The minutes given by the notes had been used up, and the moment was over.

End: Steven Universe OST – Here Comes a Thought

Wash and Yang were now facing each other, their hands lowered, and yet still intertwined. Wash let out a breath that he didn't even realize he was holding. Yang was the same, along with a rose tint on her cheeks.

Wash could only say, "That…."

Yang did the same, "Yeah…."

"Well well well~."

Both suddenly turned to the new voice in the room. There stood a Gulch soldier in black armor at the double doors of the ballroom. A soldier that Wash and Yang were both familiar with. The figure stepped into the light, revealing the infamous rogue freelancer.

Tex stepped forward with her arms crossed and states, "You two sure look cozy."

Silence echoed throughout the room for what felt like minutes. Only Yang found the courage to speak her mind with a groan.

"Son a bitch."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to leave a review.

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