Part forty of my RWBY series "Pollination: The Bumblebee and White Rose"

If there's one thing I hate more than the atrocious screeching of birds, it's the atrocious fuming of Weiss Schnee. Especially when I'm sitting across from her at our foldout table.

Looking up from my biology textbook, I see that Weiss is hunched over her Latin textbook, just glaring at the pages. Hmm, I suppose that's not completely accurate. Rather, her hair is covering her face, but her aura is violently pulsing. And she's learned to suppress it. Either she's doing it deliberately, or she's so enraged at the dead language that she's forgotten her trained instinct.

She's been like this all morning. At first, when she awoke in Ruby's grasp, she was perfectly fine. Typical Weiss Schnee, being typically groggy and ready to fight for the last serving of milk. But, when we all sat down for breakfast, and subsequently ran out of food, she began to grow increasingly mad. First, she increased the amount of snide remarks at whatever we said, then she started making REALLY snide remarks to Ruby, whenever she spoke, and now she's resorted to giving all of us the silent treatment.

"Mrrgh." Yang groans. I look to my left. Clutching her stomach, she gracefully falls flat on the table, causing all of our calculators, pencils, pens, and empty bowls of Sad-Square cereal to bounce in the air. She desperately begs, "When will she be baaack?"

Weiss's aura skyrockets.

I pat Yang's head. "There, there." I murmur as I use my free hand to straighten the table's contents. "It's just the weekly grocery run." I remind her. "Ruby will return soon."

Again, Weiss's aura leaps. Looking to the heiress, I see that she's gripping that poor purple textbook with white knuckles. The pages are actually tearing under the pressure.

"The hunger." Yang whispers, turning her head towards me. Her eyes are blank. "The hunger." I can only assume that there's a lack of sustenance in her stomach.

Scoffing, I role my eyes and turn back to my calculus. "You're a teenager in a first world country."

She whines, "Sooo?"

"You'll live."

"Mrrgh." She groans, "I want Blue Cow."

I sigh. "No, Yang. Blue Cow is bad for you."

"I want it." Pounding her fist next to her head, she grunts, "Want a truckload of Blue Cow."

"That's a big load of liquid suicide." I comment, turning off my graphing calculator. I'm clearly not going to get any work done until Yang gets more food in her stomach. We each got seventeen Sad-Square... squares. Dry cereal. We didn't even have Pumpkin Pete's.

My own stomach starts to growl. We usually don't run out of food before the weekly grocery run. Then again, Yang has never painted her naked body with tuna and had me lick it all off before. That was fun.

Not even looking up from her textbook, which is still suffering under her wrath, Weiss snidely remarks, "She's used to taking big loads."

THAT gets an eye twitch from me. I could give her a scar across her other eye.

"What's your deal?" Yang murmurs, head still flat against the table. Her eyes are closed now. She wouldn't fall back asleep, would she? Sweet lord, she'd bee out all day, and then she'd be awake all night. And not in the sexy way. In a hair-pulling, 'Yang, go to sleep.' way.

Weiss remains silent, continuing to hold her book in a deadlock.

"Perhaps we should all work on our assignments." I suggest in an attempt to keep the peace. "And then we can eat when Ruby comes back."

There it is again! Her aura keeps shooting up whenever someone mentions Ruby. Did the two have a fight? They went to bed on good terms and a kiss goodnight. They got along just fine for the entire day as well. They kept each other in line, melted into each other's company, and bounced their ideas off each other. Weiss even went on the assertive and showcased her girlfriend to the public with a few PDAs.

So what could she possibly be upset about?

"Blake?" She asks.

I look up. She continues to stare down at her text. "Yes?"

"Could you get my schedule out of my bag?" She requests, maintaining her posture. "I don't remember what I wrote for today." The last word is spoken with distinction. And Weiss never forgets what she writes.

Something is clearly not going according to plan. "Of course." I get up from my seat and stride towards the bed that she and Ruby share. Kneeling down to the floor, I lift a fold of the cover and remove Weiss's snow white book bag.

"Thank you." She snidely bites. "I'm just too engrossed with the language spoken by people who were slaughtered by enraged barbarians."

...Oddly specific.

"Oddly specific." Yang grunts, still slouched over the table.

I believe that's what some call "hive mind". Smirking at the thought, I open Weiss's book bag and remove the desired binder. "For today." I flip the pages until I arrive at the desired d-

Oh no.

Whoops. Sorry, calender. Didn't mean to drop you.

"Whatever is the matter, Blake?" Weiss sarcastically asks. She knows all too well what's the matter!

Oh, wow. Catch your breath, Blake. Breathe in, breathe out. Oh, oh, how could we have forgotten?

"Blake?" Yang asks with concern as she perks up. Eyeing me with caution, she inquires, "What's wrong?"

The door slams open. A red and black boot appears to be the culprit. Ruby Rose staggers in, carrying two massive brown bags, teeming with groceries. "Honey, I'm hooome!" She announces, completely unaware of what horrors await us.

Ruby pauses, taking in the scene. I'm sure it's quite a spectacle. Me, short of breath and panicked. Weiss, stoic and stone cold. Yang, well, Yang.

"Go on, Blake." Weiss commands, "What's today?"

Oh, boy. If I jumped out the window- no, it's three stories down. I'd break a leg. At least I could hobble away with a broken leg.

"It's Weiss's birthday."

Yang's eyes widen.

Ruby drops the bags.

Weiss scoffs. "Et tu, Ruby?"

"Erm- well, I knew that!" Ruby lies. She flat out lies. She weaves such a desperate web of woes in an equally desperate attempt to save her sex life. "In fact!" She snatches up one of the grocery bags. "It just so happens that I have your birthday gift right!" She rummages around. "Heeere!"

A red can of Lowz Baked Beans.

Weiss puts her book down and stands up.

The three of us watch in silence as she moves past Ruby, who still holds the can, albeit with faltering pride.

The locking of the door echoes as Weiss slides the bolt in place.

I stealthily move to the bed that Yang and I share. Reaching under the pillow, I withdraw Gambol Shroud. Everyone has a right to defend themselves against severe bodily harm.

"Aha, that's a joke." Ruby panics. "Your real gift is-" She looks to Yang for guidance.

Yang looks to me for a miracle. Not even the Flying Spaghetti Monster can save us now.

I look to the window. There's a single pigeon perched on the edge of the building. I REALLY wish I was that pigeon right now. I look back at Yang.

She looks back and forth between me and the window.

"Is outside the window?" Ruby whimpers. Weiss snatches the can out of her hand and drops it on the ground. "Please don't kill me?"

Yang leaps up from the foldout table, inadvertently flipping it in the process. "EVERY LESBIAN FOR HERSELF!" She bellows as she bolts for the window.

I pull the window open as Yang leaps over the wreckage in the middle of our dorm.

"Oh no you don't!"

Yang leaps towards the window, but she's pulled back. "ACK!"

I reel around and see that Weiss has grabbed onto the end of Yang's long, golden hair.

There's no time to waste. Sacrifices must be made if any of us are to survive the wrath of an unstoppable force. Lifting Gambol Shroud into the air, I bring it down on Yang's hair.

It is instantly cut in half.

Oh, Yang's hair is fine. It's my sword that's been cut in half.

The top half clangs against the floor.

I look up. Weiss slowly shakes her head, frowning.

Whelp, that's it. Game over, man; it's game over.

I drop the bottom half of my not-so-trusty-anymore weapon.

"Blake, what are you doing?!" Yang holds out her arms, fear plastered across her expression as I hop to the windowsill. "Blake?!"

I leap out the window.

"BLAAAAAAKE!"

Nice. I stuck the landing. The trick is to bend my legs as I hit the ground, so that I can absorb a large percentage of the kinetic energy that springs back.

Let's see, if I keep running, I should reach the parking garage in a few minutes. Then, I can hot wire Yang's motorcycle.

I can ride out, gather support for my cause, build an army, come back, and maybe save Yang.

This is all Yang's fault anyways. If she hadn't decided to do that sexy tuna foreplay, we wouldn't have run out of food, and Ruby wouldn't have had to leave for the grocery store, and then Weiss could have had her hissy fit when it was JUST a hissy fit!

It's all Yang's fault!

I am in no way responsible.

Confound it, Yang.

A/N: I wrote in a VERY elaborate joke. If anyone can figure it out, BEAN my guest.