Summary

The one time Ozpin fixed something for Glynda Goodwitch.
Sequel to "Five Times Glynda Goodwitch Fixed Something" .

Characters
Ozpin, Glynda G.

Genre
Romance, Hurt / Comfort

Rating
Rated T for an attempt at romance.

And the One Time Ozpin Fixed Something Instead

The Headmaster of Beacon was well aware- more aware than most people, in fact- that his Headmistress, Glynda Goodwitch, was extremely powerful in her own right. Her Semblance was one not to be trifled with, not one to be underestimated; the raw, unaltered power and the ease in which she controlled it and herself- astounding, really- simply awe-inspiring. Whenever he saw her in action, whether it be throwing their enemies around like ragdolls in battle or fitting broken shards back to form a single whole again, he always felt something stir inside of him, something he didn't quite understand.

"It's nothing," She'd say, whenever he complimented her, "It's fine. You're welcome."

But it wasn't nothing, and it wasn't fine.

Perhaps he was welcome, but whenever she fixed something for him, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was somehow taking advantage of her.
He wanted to give her something in return. Anything to show her that he appreciated her-
Anything to show her, once and for all, that he loved her.

Ozpin found his chance, quite accidentally, too, on a very special evening.

Shortly after midnight, soldiers had brought him and his Headmistress to his own office, only to find General James Ironwood waiting for them. James had then explained, furiously, that there had been a lapse in security during the duration of the dance that night in Beacon, and that it had cost he and his men an internal, radiolength security infastructure that would take weeks, perhaps even months, to rebuild and resecure.

After arguing back and forth for several hours about the matter and what it meant for Beacon, for James, and for Remnant, and tossing out half-baked ideas to whom may be responsible for such a happenstance, Ozpin had finally had enough. He was tired, and he knew that Glynda, who had been very vocal about this entire thing, too, had to be as well. So he spoke up, cutting across the General.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it has been a very long night. I am sure we are each very tired. We should retire to our quarters, and you each should return to yours, for the evening. We may continue this discussion later this morning, perhaps, after a good, long rest."

He could tell that his words weren't quite appreciated, but he shooed them away like flies, regardless. With a final bid of good night to James- who ignored him and his attempt to be friendly, rudely yet not surprisingly enough- he and Glynda were alone at long last, after his elevator took their less-than-welcome guests away into the night.

"Dust, they are all idiots," She muttered under her breath, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Who was responsible- honestly, if they can't figure that out, they are even more hopeless than I thought- "

"Glynda," Ozpin interrupts, halfway amused, "Please."

Glynda was unamused.
"I know, I know- "

"No, not that," He interrupted her once again, earning a tight glare of annoyance from her. Ignoring that, though, he continued on, "You are right. Absolutely right. But now we've got ourselves a bigger problem now, haven't we?"

He watched as her vivid, beautiful green eyes narrowed slightly, and was startled at the clear venom in her voice as she spoke again- "I know," She repeats, "The breach. We were too lax, and- "

"Stop beating the proverbial dead horse-"

"Stop interrupting me-"
"Stop saying obvious things- "
"Ozpin- "
"Glynda-
"What?"

Ozpin paused. She looks far too tired, far too weary. A far cry from the strong, hard-headed, stubborn woman he has come to know- and has come to love, too. He watches her in growing concern as her posture changes from tight and formal- her normal posture, the one she kept up in front of the eyes of the world- to weary and shoulder-bent. He was well-aware that he was one of the only people, of not the only person, to ever see this change for what it was.

He steps forward- "I can tell something is wrong. What is it?"

Glynda hesitates- "It's nothing."

"It doesn't seem like nothing."
"Ozpin..."
"Do you trust me?"
"What? Of course I- "
"Take my hand."

Glynda hesitates again, but this time, she reaches over and takes his outstretched hand in her own. Her hand was warm, soft, and yet her grip was firm and strong. After a moment, he pulls her towards him, and in a very lovely display of strength and wit of his own, twists her into a graceful circle. When he finishes, she drops her hand, and takes a step away, looking much too startled.

"Ozpin- what in the world- ?"

"A dance, Glynda. Dance with me, won't you?"

The blond woman has no idea what to make of his actions. He could see the confusion in her vivid green eyes, feel it rolling off of her in waves- and he could only smile, which only served to confuse her further. But, he noticed, she doesn't pull away from him, for which he is glad.

There was a point to his madness, after all.

"Dance with me," He urged, "Dance."

Hesitantly, confusedly, Glynda eventually gave in to him, and slowly but surely, Ozpin led her in a dance. He also began to hum, hum a tune that was once hummed to him, many, many years ago now. Haunting, but soft and sweet, it carried them for several long minutes, as they gazed endlessly into each other's eyes.

In hers, he saw strength, the fierce, brute power of a Huntress who would mercilessly slaughter any who found themselves at the wrong end of her sword. In hers, he saw beauty, but also a certain kind of fragility that he doubted any but he could really see within her. In hers, he saw something he had yet to see repeated in any other. And, lastly, in hers, he saw more than just kindness, more than just caring for him- he saw love.

What she saw in his- he didn't know, and he would never ask; but whatever it was she saw within him, those light chocolate brown eyes that so reminded him of his heritage, of his first home among the brown-and-green forest trees- she found reason to never truly looked away.

And that was all the reason he ever needed to gently, softly, press his lips against hers after the tune had long since ended. She was startled, of course- who wouldn't be? He wasn't one to suddenly kiss other people; not one to show such expressions of emotion. But, he noted, Glynda again, never pushed him away.

"I never danced with you tonight," He explained, softly. He watched as those lovely, vivid green eyes he continously lost himself in lit up with surprise.

"I didn't blame you," She responds, just as gently, "We aren't the same people alone as we are in public."

"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"Glynda- "
"Ozpin, please. It's okay. You've more than made up for that, with this."
"You don't mind? Me, kissing you? You don't mind at all?"

The Headmaster watches in fasination as she throws back her golden-blond head and laughs-

"Of course not. Oz, I've been waiting for you to kiss me for almost twenty years now. I would have waited another twenty, another forty- I would have waited forever, for you. I know how you are; you wait for things to be broken before you ask for them to be fixed; but I don't think you realized just yet that you shouldn't try to fix what isn't broken already."

Ozpin's answer was to kiss her again, and just like that-

With his touch, his dance and his kiss-

Everything was just right again.