The room was dark, save for a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. It was much like the one she'd questioned Ruby in all those months ago, but this interrogation would undoubtedly prove less fortuitous.

"It's been a long time, Calanthe," she said as she sat down, "or would you rather be called Cinder?"

The woman's eyes, despite their fiery color, were cold. "How far you've fallen."

"Funny. I was just going to say the same thing." Glynda folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Never took you for a terrorist."

"I prefer to think of myself as a...revolutionary." The dark-haired woman smirked. "What was it that Ozpin used to say? 'Even those we see as heroes today may have once been considered terrorists'?"

"Those he spoke of never intended to hurt civilians, and they would never have allowed innocents to be caught in the crosshairs." Glynda suppressed a wince. How many innocents had been hurt during her crusade against the fal'Cie all those years ago?

"Every war has its collateral damage. Isn't that right, General?"

"Cut the crap. We've already gotten a confession out of one of your teammates—"

Fiery eyes narrowed. "Did you now?"

"Oh, yes." A small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "They were very eager to share your plan to trick Yang and Pyrrha into injuring or destroying their opponents and use the resulting chaos to unleash Grimm onto the school."

A scowl marred the dark-haired woman's face, but it cleared quickly. "That is unfortunate."

"In fact, the only unanswered question is why." Glynda leaned forward against the table. "So, Miss Foth, why did you plot to destroy us?"

"You have grown arrogant in your old age." Calanthe's smile returned. "You're so quick to assume that our agenda was against you."

Glynda's eyes narrowed. "Then do enlighten me."

"Haven't you ever just reveled in anarchy? Delighted in watching the world burn?" She leaned back. "At least, that is what my benefactor wants. I have a more….straightforward plan."

"Revenge?"

Calanthe's smirk was answer enough.

"But why?" the blonde stressed. She shifted in her seat. "We caught the woman who kidnapped you. She was found guilty and has been in jail for years, so you have no…" She faltered. "Unless it's not her you want."

Flames engulfed the table, spreading to the floor. Glynda's form flickered and disappeared as Calanthe rose from the table and strode to the door. It burst open, flying off the hinges. The dark-haired woman's eyes blazed with the Fall Maiden's power.

White foam blasted her from behind, making her stumble. She turned, just in time for a red metal canister to collide with her face.

Glynda approached cautiously, fire extinguisher hovering closely. She tapped the comm in her ear. "You were right. Again. Cinder tried to escape. She's detained for now, but I'm going to need some backup— and a medic."

"Are you all right?" Ozpin asked quickly.

"I'm fine. Your hologram plan worked perfectly. The medic is for Cinder— she'll likely have a concussion with the hit she just took."

"Mother of Grimm, what did you do now?"

~:~

The elevator doors opened, and Glynda emerged, scroll in hand. "Cinder's in a holding cell with her magic sealed. Tell the Council that they can try her whenever they're ready." She kept her eyes on her to-do list. "Now that that fiasco is over, we need to debug our systems and prepare for the incoming students."

"All work and no play, huh?" Qrow shook his head in mock despair and leaned against the window. "Time to stage an intervention, Ozpin."

The headmaster's mouth quirked into a grin."Qrow is right, Glynda, We've won the battle, if not the war. We can afford to take the night off." He nodded toward the tournament livestream on his desk.

"You just want to avoid your paperwork." She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Move over."

On screen, knives flew. A young redheaded girl danced around Pyrrha Nikos.

"Is this the next match then?"

"Fall candidate versus one of Ironwood's kids." Branwen smirked. "You gonna bet on this one?"

"No," Glynda deadpanned, "because it is illegal for staff to bet on tournament matches. That being said, I'll bet that the Atlas girl wins."

"I'll take that. Whoever loses has to…" Qrow thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Winner decides."

"It can be anything?"

"Sure."

"Good. I just won." She grinned. "So, Qrow, do you remember the 'butter suit' from Bye Bye Birdie?"

"Oh, no," he groaned. "We agreed never to speak of that again!"

"Go get it, go wear it, and let us take pictures to post on every single social media site. Then we'll talk."

The scythe-wielder cringed and dragged himself to the elevator. "I'm never betting with her ever again!"

"That's what you said the last time!" Ozpin shook his head in amusement, but his smile quickly faded. "Are you all right, Glynda?"

"I'm fine. I just need some normality after that interrogation." She rubbed her temples tiredly. "I think Cinder wanted revenge against us for...for not protecting her or something."

"She was kidnapped and had dust infused into her skin. I wouldn't be surprised if she went a bit crazy after that."

"Yes, but…" Glynda shook her head. "Never mind. Let's just figure out how to remove the Maiden's power out of her so we can put this entire thing behind us. We probably should have waited to tell her about them."

"Yeah. Bad move on your part."

"My part? I thought you told her!"

"No, Lucian was still running Gallus Niv back then, and he definitely didn't tell her."

"Then how…?"

The elevator dinged, and Qrow emerged in a shiny gold-colored suit. "I swear, Glynda…" Red dusted his cheeks. "I haven't worn this since I was nineteen."

"We love you, Branwen. Oh, yes, we do! We love you, Branwen, and we'll be true!"

"Please don't."

"Say, Conrad. You still drinkin' a lot?"

"I hate you both. You're supposed to be the sane one, Ozpin! ...Ah! Don't take my picture!"

A/N: In case you're confused about the ending or "the butter suit," I had this idea that team STRQ had been in the musical Bye Bye Birdie and Qrow had been Conrad Birdie (think Elvis-ripoff). The "butter suit" is referencing the gold suit Birdie wears (in the production I saw, and everyone joked about it being made of butter). We Love You, Branwen is a cheap parody of We Love You, Conrad (which you should look up to get the full effect).