Part Twenty-Seven
Yang came down from her room and looked for Blake in the main area of the ski lodge. She was gone, as were the other Belladonna's. Yang sighed, somewhere between frustrated and glad. For three weeks they had avoided each other in school, and Yang didn't know what to do. Her hands were shaking more, and she was irritable, easy to get mad. She knew she was taking it out on the wrong people, Ruby had talked to her twice, and it wasn't that Yang wasn't trying - but when she did seek out Blake in school… she couldn't find the words.
A lot of people found reasons to talk to Blake for the month of December - Velvet and Cocoa had asked to see her during lunch and they spent the entire time huddled in a corner of the cafeteria. When Blake came back… she just glared at Yang and didn't say a word. More than a few people found a way to catch Blake and ask if she was okay, and she shut them down every time, saying she was fine when it was obvious she wasn't fine. Yang in turn was stuck - she wanted to help so much, but she couldn't figure out how, and the last time she did she'd made everything worse.
Frowning, she sat on the couch and pulled her hair up into a tail. She was in such a mood.
"Ah! There you are!"
Yang looked up. Her dad was there, wrapped up in his brown winter coat and a knit hat with a pompom of thread on top. He carried two sets of snowshoes.
"Daddy-Daughter Day!" he said brightly, tossing her one of the pairs. "You and I are going snowshoeing."
"... what?"
"Well," he said brightly, "it's either that or sit around here moping, and I know how much you hate that."
He… wasn't wrong. Grudgingly, Yang got up to get her coat.
The snowshoe trail had a few other people, but they were pretty spread out, and the weight of the snow kept sound small, local, hard to carry. Yang put one foot in front of the other, the cold air crisping her lungs, and her father kept pace, half racing her, until they hit the halfway marker. Yang was breathing heavily through her nose by then, Dad the same, and they stopped a moment. Honestly Yang could have kept going, she liked the thought of pushing herself, but Dad was old and wanted a break.
"Say that again and I remind you who refurbished the kitchen - by himself - when you were in seventh grade."
Yang rolled her eyes. "It was three years ago, Dad," she said, crossing her arms.
"Oh, and three years is all it takes to make me old?" he asked brightly. "Sounds to me like you broke some brain cells when I wasn't looking."
"Get over yourself."
"No, get over yourself," Dad said, lightly punching her shoulder. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to say? Use all my Big Dad Energy to get you to talk to Blake?"
"Oh, my god, is that why we're out here?" Yang asked, instantaneously frustrated. "So you can ambush me over my telling the school about the assault?"
"No," Tai said, "I'm ambushing you so you can figure out what to say to apologize."
Yang turned bright red, and she crossed her arms and turned around. "I'm not a kid anymore," she said hotly. "I can figure it out for myself."
"Then why haven't you?"
"Because."
Dad smirked. "Because why?"
"Because," Yang insisted, frustrated. Dad put a hand on her shoulder though, she could feel it through the coat, and she sighed. "... I'm scared," she admitted. She looked up to her dad, and all he did was smile, softly, and nod. "I just… she was so mad. All I was doing was trying to help her and…"
Dad nodded again, and he squeezed her shoulder. "It hurt," he said, "Dragging the intervention up. None of us were at our best that day, and reliving it sucks."
Yang shook her head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I want to help her so bad, but it's like she won't let me."
"Then don't help her."
"Dad, how can I not?"
"Oh, Yang," he said, "You're so off balance."
"What? No I'm not!"
"Okay then: how about predictable? Or stubborn? Or boneheaded?"
"... how is this supposed to help me to talk to Blake?" Yang asked, defensive.
"Because if you don't see what you're doing," Dad said, "you're going to make the same mistake all over again. And next time it might do even more damage." He gestured, and they started walking the trail again. "Here's the thing, little dragon, you have your mom's stubbornness."
Yang froze to hear the sentence. "My mom's…"
"Kali pointed it out the other night," Dad said. "Even after so much therapy we don't really talk about the stuff before Summer, and I think maybe it's time we should. Here's the thing about Raven: she was great, in so many ways: her strength, her ambition, she was so fierce when it came to the people she cared about, and you have all those qualities."
Yang shook her head as she moved through the snow. "But isn't that a bad thing?" she asked. "Mom didn't really care about anyone - she never wrote from jail, she dumped me as soon as she had me, she… she did those things to the Poledinas." She couldn't say it yet, even after two years of coming to terms with it. She couldn't say out loud that her mother was...
"Here's the thing about people," Dad said, still walking. "They're a lot of things. Sometimes they're all the things, and all the time, or they're some of the things some of the time, or none of the things. Raven was complicated, the same way Uncle Qrow is complicated. Qrow got the help he needed - and you're the one who gave that to him, with your intervention."
Yang winced, the memory still hard.
"Like everybody, Raven had her faults. It wasn't even that she had faults, I would say, so much as she didn't learn from them. And those faults tore the four of us apart, and it hurt our family. Raven was determined to be strong in the face of everything, and she was so focused on that, that she never learned the value of being soft, and she never learned how to handle someone who was soft. She wasn't abusive because she got mad or had a warped view of the world - Uncle Qrow does too but I let you see him all the time. The thing that made her abusive was that she didn't change, she didn't learn from her mistakes, and instead of facing them she ran away."
"Dad, I don't want to run away," Yang insisted, shaking her head. "I just… I don't know what to say."
"But that's what I'm trying to tell you, Yang," Dad said, reaching over and giving her a side hug. "You and Raven both act like the easiest way to tackle a problem is through it. You staged your intervention with Uncle Qrow, you ran your bike over that Adam Taurus kid, and you shouted to anyone who'd listen that Blake-"
"Don't say it," Yang said, wincing.
Dad nodded, letting go of the side hug so he could walk easier in the snow. "You want to fix the problem, Yang," Dad said. "And it's a statement of how big your heart is that you do. I love you for it. You know what the hardest thing for me to learn in therapy was? It was that sometimes it's not up to you to fix a problem."
Yang frowned, thinking back to her dusty memories of therapy. "When…?"
"Before the intervention," Dad said, "So you might not remember. I'd already found Clover, and so many nights I would go out looking for Uncle Qrow and try and drag him home. We got into more than one fight, because he wanted to keep drinking. I was sick with worry, but Clover had to tell me: getting help wasn't up to me. It was up to Qrow."
"I don't understand," Yang said.
Dad nodded, exhaling a plume of vapor and looking at his daughter. "Look at it this way," he said, "What kind of help did Raven want? None. What kind of help did Uncle Qrow want? None, at first. It wasn't until you and Ruby pointed out that he had a problem that he was willing to ask for help. Even then, Clover had to come over and do some really fast talking to pull him back from the edge. Did I need help? Yes, but how long did it take for me to realize I needed help?" His face soured, and he looked away. "I'll always regret how much was put on you back then," he said softly, the cold air struggling to carry the sentence. Yang reached out, touched her dad's arm. He side hugged her again, and he missed his next step and toppled into the snow, dragging Yang with him.
They both sat in the snow, staring at each other, before they chuckled and moved to get up, dusting the snow off their outerwear.
"The most important thing in helping someone," Dad continued, "is that they are okay with you helping them. Uncle Qrow and I both had to figure out that we needed help first before we could ask for it. Weiss had to figure out something was wrong before she asked for help. Blake is trying to figure out more things than anyone her age should be asked to figure out - and unlike Uncle Qrow and me she knows something has to be done. She doesn't always make the right decisions - but neither did me and Uncle Qrow. Blake has a whole army of people who want to help her: her parents, her counselor, you and Ruby and Weiss, Uncle Qrow and me and the professor. She's choosing how to get the help she needs."
"But what if she chooses wrong?" Yang said. "She was perfectly fine with letting the whole school think she was some kind of slut instead of letting them know-"
Dad held up a hand. "But that was her decision. She had to take the time to even process that a picture was leaked before she could figure out what to do. And now we'll never know what she would have done, because you decided for her. You saw a problem and you jumped in to fix it without asking Blake how or if she wanted it fixed. Helping her isn't taking the problem away, helping her is listening to her - really listening to her, and asking her what she needs."
The rest of the trail was without comment, Yang processing everything her Dad said. Back at the lodge she saw Blake, in an oversized purple sweater and one of her cat-ear headbands, reading a book.
"Hey, Kali! Ghira!"
"Tai, how was the snowshoe trail?"
"Heavy for reasons that have nothing to do with snow. Wanna see what's on the menu for lunch?"
"Of course, Ghira, come on. It will take all three of us."
"Wait, it will? Honey what…?"
Yang rolled her eyes, they weren't exactly subtle, but she took a deep breath as she pulled off her hat and coat, stamping the snow out of her shoes. Pulling her hair loose and letting it cascade down, she moved over to Blake, and sat on the chair next to her.
"Hey," she said softly.
Blake closed her book. "Hey," she said.
"... did your parents talk to you?"
"Yeah. Your dad?"
"... yeah."
Silence.
"... I'm sorry," Blake said, looking down. "You told me about the intervention in confidence. I shouldn't have thrown it in your face like that."
Yang fumbled, not expecting Blake to apologize so fast. Guess Dad wasn't the only one throwing advice around. "I'm… sorry, too," she said, looking down at her hands. They were starting to shake again, and she fisted them, tried to make them stop. "Dad was telling me, a lot of people are around to help you, and you have to choose how and when you'll take the help. I just… I saw you hurting so much, and I wanted it to stop…"
"I know," Blake said, worrying her hands, still not looking at Yang. "Professor Ozpin talked to me. A lot of people have been talking to me…"
"...must be hard," Yang offered, staring at the arm of her chair.
"Sometimes yes, sometimes no," Blake said. "It depends on who it is, I guess. Weiss listens. So does Mom. Dad kind of wants something from you when you talk to him, you can tell he's staging. It makes him a great speaker at protests but… Professor Ozpin - he's funny. He has this way of talking that makes you think at the same time, and he doesn't keep hitting you with the point. He just says his peace and doesn't bother you again. My counselor - I have to talk to him, and he listens really well, but he's supposed to, too, and that makes it hard sometimes."
Yang squirmed in her seat, conspicuously aware that she hadn't been mentioned. "I want to listen. You know… if you want…"
Blake finally looked up, her eyes a little wide, surprised. She smiled, and a pool burned deep in Yang, and she bit down on the change, turning red in the face.
"It's been hard," Blake said, running a hand through her hair. "I kind of understand Adam better, and the more I do the more I'm mad. That's good… I think?" She shook her head. "I don't want him to manipulate me again. I know that. And I don't want to fall for his games. But if I don't play his games then I have to pay a price with those pictures. All I can think about is the 'more where this came from.' I keep thinking back to that night to see if I can remember him taking the pictures but…"
She shuddered.
Yang reached out and grabbed her hand. Blake… didn't pull away.
"The worst part of that night," Yang said, staring at their hands. "Was when I found you. I heard you screaming… and it was dark but I could see all this blood… and I just snapped. All I wanted to do was protect you…" Her hands started to shake again, and she took a breath. "At the hospital, there was that accident on the highway, and nobody was there for anything. I had all this time to sit there alone - they tried to get Dad in to see me but it was hours before they finally got him in - and I was just sitting there, with no idea if you'd…"
Her vision blurred, and a hand covered the one she had one Blake. She sniffed, looked over, saw that Blake was holding her hand just as much as she was holding hers. Yang wiped her eyes.
"All I can see is how much you're hurting," she admitted, and her voice was watery. "And Adam isn't here for me to run over with my bike again, and I don't know how to make it stop…"
"You can't stop it," Blake said. "Nobody can stop it except me. I have to be the one to stop hurting, and sometimes I worry that I never will. But… I swore to myself that I wouldn't run away anymore." Her hands squeezed Yang, and she looked up, meeting Yang's eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm so tired of running away, of letting all the fear take over. Being angry, it helps. I feel like I can stand my ground better."
"Getting angry helps me, too," Yang admitted. "It gives me focus, but my dad reminded me - sometimes I don't always think through my decisions. I was perfectly okay with running away to the court to see my Mom, and I wasn't thinking about what I was doing to Ruby. I yelled at Uncle Qrow during the intervention, and things got really, really bad. Even with… even with Adam, I didn't even think. I just…"
"Yang…"
"I did it again with the picture," Yang admitted, and her cheeks got wet with the confession. "I just wanted you to stop hurting, and instead…"
"... you wouldn't have had to, if I didn't keep shutting you out," Blake said, and her head dipped down. "I just… I didn't know how to react to any of it. Adam had my head all turned around, I still think my parents won't understand and then they do and… I used to love participating in class, I loved raising my hands, and I never had a problem talking to people; but now I hardly recognize myself, and every time I get close to being my old self, he texts me. I just want him out of my life…"
A tear pipped onto the arm of the sofa. Yang adjusted her seat, leaning forward and taking their cluster of hands with her free hand.
"I'm sorry," Yang said. "I'm sorry I can't even do anything."
Blake sniffled, looking up and Yang saw her wet cheeks.
"Do… do you want a hug, or something?" Yang asked.
Blake nodded, and Yang leaned over, Blake doing the same. She buried her head in Yang's shoulder and Yang held on tight, squeezing for all she was worth, wanting to wring the sadness out of Blake. She didn't break into a sobbing mess - Yang had probably missed that phase with the silent treatment, and she felt guilty. In her rush to be there for Blake, she'd missed being there when Blake probably needed it most.
When Blake finally pulled back she laughed. "I am getting so sick of crying," she said, wiping her cheek.
"Well, if you need a shoulder, let me know," Yang said. "Or if you want me to punch someone, let me know. Or if you just wanna talk…"
"Yeah," Blake said. "I will." Her gaze blurred, looking off to the middle distance, and she adjusted her cat ears before looking to Yang. "My counselor told me, that picture will follow me for the rest of my life."
"... What?"
"He said, when I go to job interviews, or if I need a promotion, people will google me, and they'll see that picture."
Yang blinked, shocked at the idea. "But… that's not fair!"
"I'm a minor, so he thinks they will get rid of the picture, but he told me: once it's on the internet, it's there forever. He has clients in their forties who say guys walk up to them and ask if they're the girl in such-and-such photo. It's frightening."
"They said that at the assembly," Yang said, "that you should never text pics of yourself that you don't want the whole world to see."
"That's why I always posed with my clothes on," Blake said. "I thought I was being smart. But…"
Yang's hands were shaking again, she had all this energy and she didn't know what to do with it. She took Blake's hands in hers, leaned in, inches from her face. "I'll help you," she said, before hearing herself. Quickly, she added: "I'll do whatever you want me to do, to help you. Even if it's nothing."
Blake blinked, eyes wide, and that golden gaze looked down, to the shaking hands. She bent down and kissed the hands, and all at once fire burned through Yang, but Blake straightened, held Yang's gaze. "The same goes for me," she said. "If you're hurting, if you need something, I want you to come to me, too. I've been too self-centered, and helping people should help me. I need to tell Weiss that, and I need to tell Ruby that. But I'm telling you: I'm not running anymore, and I'm going to be there for you from now on."
"We'll be there for each other," Yang said.
They smiled, and the world seemed to fit back in place.
Blake had finished showering after spending all day on the slopes. The sun had been out and it was just warm enough that she'd started sweating under her snowsuit as she kept flying down the slopes. She and Yang had almost made it a competition, Blake on skis, Yang on her snowboard, and there was a lot of laughing, teasing, and… fun. There were still moments of awkward, but Blake felt like they'd gotten past the worst of it. Ruby was also competing with them, and there was no denying that she'd been the fastest.
After brushing out her hair, Blake decided to head down to the large fireplace by the lobby with her book. Her parents had that look in the eye again. She was pretty sure she'd be sleeping over with Weiss or Yang's family again tonight. (Really? Did her parents have to spend the whole vacation needing the room to themselves?) But some quality time with her book was looking ideal.
She was surprised, however, when she found Weiss sullenly drinking tea by the fire with her foot up. And an icepack on it.
"Weiss?"
"Hey, Blake," Weiss grumbled. "I twisted my ankle on the slopes today."
"Oh, that sucks."
"Yes."
Blake sat down next to her. "Need anything?"
"A functioning ankle."
"Not in my skill set."
"I know."
"Need a book?"
Weiss turned and gave a soft smile. "Actually, that sounds good. It's on the nightstand between my and Winter's beds."
Blake nodded, put her book down next to Weiss to hold her spot, and headed back upstairs.
"Blake!" Ruby was a red blur that tackled her. "Dad's taking me and Yang out into Wilmington for dinner. You and your parents are invited!"
Blake shook her head. "My parents have plans. We're staying in tonight."
"Are you sleeping with us or with Weiss?"
"Don't know."
Ruby nodded. "Let us know. I'm going to see if Weiss and Winter want to come!"
"I don't think they will," Blake said, knocking on Winter and Weiss's door. "Weiss twisted her ankle. I doubt she wants to walk much. Winter will probably want to stick around."
"That's true," Winter said, opening the door. "I could hear you without the door even opening, Miss Rose. Do you know how to use an 'inside' voice?"
Ruby smiled unrepentantly, looking more like Qrow. "Nope!" she nearly shouted. "There's too much to enjoy to be quiet!"
Winter's lips twitched.
"Thanks, though," Ruby continued. "It was worth a shot. Dad's already got the reservations, so we'll be heading out shortly. Can we get you anything?"
"Peace and quiet," Winter muttered, and Blake held in a giggle. "That's quite alright. Run along."
"Kay!" and she ran off.
"Far too much energy…"
Blake did giggle. "Hello," she said. "Weiss was thinking of her book?"
"I'll retrieve it for you," Winter said, holding the door open and heading back for the book. "I'm looking up different restaurants for dinner myself. I don't care for delivery, but I don't even want Weiss walking to the dining room. Keep her stationary while I arrange for something to eat."
"Will do."
Book in hand, Blake went back downstairs.
"Thanks," Weiss said. She set aside her teacup.
Blake sat down, shucking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her. "How'd you twist your ankle anyway?"
Weiss scowled. "I can ice skate pretty well, and I thought that skis would be similar."
Blake smiled. "Of course you can ice skate. More grace and elegance."
"Father wouldn't have it any other way," Weiss said, twisting on the couch to better face her. "But I do enjoy it. You can feel the speed better on skates than you can on skis."
Blake shrugged. She'd never been skating. And… she was alone with Weiss. There were things she needed to say.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"It's not your fault I didn't know how to ski."
Blake shook her head. "That's not what I meant." She sipped her water to hide just a moment longer. "You've needed support and all my drama… has taken away from it."
Weiss let out a breath. "Look," Weiss said softly, "I'm not happy that I've felt very left alone this year, especially the last few months, but I've been to enough therapy that I know it's not your fault. That you've needed support just as much as me. I don't blame you. I have all of you, Winter, the counselor and therapist help also in keeping things in perspective. I'm not going to say that I've been thrilled, but… I understand."
Blake frowned. "You shouldn't let me off the hook like that," she said looking down. "My drama has just… been all-consuming and you're important, the same as everyone else is."
"Blake," Weiss sighed. "You have a counselor. I think you need a therapist as well. I get it. I've had times where my drama has been all-consuming. I know what that's like. I don't have to see my therapist as much now, but she's still there when I'm struggling. Your drama is just as important as my drama. We still support each other. It's okay."
She sighed. "I know," Blake said quietly. "I still feel like everything is my fault. I'm angry at Adam now. I can see the manipulation… But I still feel like I should have seen it."
"It's not like they teach us this in school," Weiss said flatly. "Generic 'don't talk to strangers' advise works and all, but then you never meet anyone new."
Blake chuckled. "If I didn't talk to strangers, I'd have never gotten to know all of you."
Weiss put on a haughty face. "And you'd have been poorer for it."
They both laughed.
Weiss looked to the fire. "I know that Ruby and Yang have had it hard. They lost their moms. But… I don't want either of them to suffer what you and I have."
"I know," Blake said, also looking to the fire. "If Ruby or Yang start dating anyone, I kinda want to interview the person to make sure they won't hurt either of them."
"I know what you mean," Weiss said. "Listen for any signs of manipulation or condescension, make sure both of them are treated right."
"Listen to us, we sound like parents."
Weiss turned with an evil grin. "We can both be Team Moms for them. Ruby and Yang haven't had a mother figure for years. I think we can mother them enough." Her grin widened. "Especially if they come back late and leave their poor moms worried about them."
Blake had a smile on as well. "Lecture them about the time, ground them, that sort of thing?"
"Make them grovel."
They caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing.
"Seriously," Blake said softly. "I don't want either of them to face what you and I have."
"Yeah, Ruby does act so innocent all the time," Weiss nodded. "You'd never have thought she's also seen heartache."
"I wonder how much she remembers. She never talks about it."
"I'm pretty sure I have some uncles and aunts on my Father's side, but I never see them," Weiss said. "I'm pretty sure that if one of them died, I'd be sad, but I don't really know them. You can't be sad to lose someone you don't know."
Blake nodded. "How's your foot?"
"Numb," Weiss replied. "The ice has officially numbed it."
"Time to take it off then." Blake hesitated, then offered, "I know Mom gave you some massages. Do you want me to give you a foot rub?"
"Do you know how to do what your mom does?"
"Not all of it, but you do pick up details after a while."
Weiss considered it. "No, I don't want anything to go wrong. If Father sees me limping…"
Blake scowled. "Yeah, I can see him using that against you and Winter. So, books?"
"Yes," Weiss said, though her eyes glimmered. "And maybe composing a proper lecture for Ruby and Yang?"
Blake smiled.
"... this, then, circles around back to the René Descartes quote from earlier: Je pense donc je suis, 'I think, therefore I am.' He and the other philosophers we've discussed all were asking questions of the self, trying to define what life even is, and yet when we speak of their lives we discuss their times, the influences on their ideas, events that occurred to and around them. This also, is a type of life, and it is in the distinction of the two that we can create a broader understanding of what life is, and what life means. Thank you."
The auditorium filled with the sounds of applause, and Ozpin took a long draw from his water after almost two hours of speaking. His leg was stiff but he was able to walk off stage with his cane. It had been quite a while since he had done the speaking circuit, and he belatedly realized his voice was out of practice. Hour long classes, even ones in auditoriums, had different requirements. The dean of philosophy had a few words for him, appreciation, and several people were backstage to have a word with him.
Several old colleagues came by: Glynda had just about crushed him in a hug for seeing him again and almost all of his old Berkley staff had arrived to see him again, and he realized he would be likely talking for the rest of the day.
Perhaps he shouldn't have brought Qrow and Oscar… he pulled out his phone to text them.
"It's so good to see you again!"
"I've been reading your papers as they get published, it's good to hear them in your voice again, you've always had a gift for speaking."
"Will you be speaking more often now?"
"No," Ozpin said smoothly, having expected that question. "I have a son to raise, so for now I'm staying close to home."
"Ah, I see. Still, now I know where to find you - you fell off the map so suddenly!"
"Of course," Ozpin said, nodding his head and trying to break away. He hadn't expected to see so many familiar faces - locked away at Beacon as he was - he hadn't realized how many people had worried about his proverbial disappearance, or missed him after the move. Oh, he still had the occasional email from an old colleague, they all knew where he had moved to, but seeing the outpouring was… he felt warm.
"So, you're the famous Ozpin Ozma!" Ozpin turned at the English accent, seeing a tall, lanky man with a developed moustache, briefcase in hand. "I must confess watching your old talks at Oxford doesn't do you justice, your audience was lapping up every word you said."
"You do me too much credit, Mr…"
"Doctor. Doctor Arthur Watts."
"Ah, well, hello, doctor. Professor Ozpin Ozma, though it seems you already knew that."
They both laughed. "I'm not a philosopher," Watts said, "but philosophy was a GRE and you were the only one that sounded interesting."
"That's only because I'm new," Oz said lightly. "Two hundred years from now and everything I've ever said will be forgotten, but thank you for your kind words. I confess I'm surprised to see you here if you aren't a student or a philosopher. Are you a guest?"
"Oh, no, I just saw the topic covered and thought it would be helpful to me."
"Really? What is it you do?"
"Research, mostly, though you likely inferred that from the title. Defining a life, as you put it, I thought would help me in my line of work, and I confess you did give me an idea or two."
"Well, I'm glad to have been of service," Ozpin said, leaning slightly on his cane. "If you'll excuse me."
"Before you go, I did have a question, Professor," Watts said, pulling out his phone to check it. "Rumor, you understand. As I was taking my seat there were several people who said you had virtually disappeared from the academic scene. Is that true? And what happened?"
"Oh, nothing so grandiose," Ozpin said lightly. "I required a change in location: I have a son to raise and I couldn't just fly to universities at the drop of a hat."
"That is a surprise," Watts said, eyebrows raised. "I would have thought the talking circuit to be more lucrative."
"Lucrative, perhaps," Oz said, shrugging his shoulders, "but there are drawbacks. Once my son was born I was less inclined to answer every invitation to speak - I wanted to see all the firsts. Do you have any children?"
"Confirmed bachelor, alas," Watts said, putting a hand to his chest. "Married only to my work."
"Were that life always that simple," Ozpin offered.
"I'm still confused," Watts said. "You were speaking up until a few years ago, but those Berkley people acted like you have completely disappeared."
"Nothing so disastrous." Oz replied, tapping his cane to his leg. "A lot happened, and I simply felt that a change of scenery would be more beneficial."
"Oz!"
"Dad!"
Ah, the best part of the day had arrived. Ozpin turned to see Qrow and Oscar moving up to them. He hugged his son automatically, and Qrow leaned in for a chaste kiss. Watts was staring, phone in hand, green eyes wide.
"Suddenly I understand why you have the opportunity to speak," the doctor said quickly, shaking his head. "Apologies, even after living in the states for as long as I have I sometimes forget how open you Americans can be. Doctor Arthur Watts." He offered a hand.
"Qrow Branwen," Qrow answered, shaking hands. "No title - at least none outside of home anyway. Hey, Oz, who was the hot blonde with the rack? All she needed was a riding crop and she could have-"
"Qrow," Ozpin said quickly before turning back to Watts. "You'll forgive me," he said cordially. "But now that my family is here…"
"Yes, of course. Thank you for talking to me."
"So like I was saying-"
"Qrow, Glynda Goodwitch is an old and dear friend, I'll not have you drooling over her while she joins us for lunch."
"For lunch?" Qrow asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Insufferable…!
"I kind of remember her," Oscar said as they continued walking. "Did she watch me or something?"
"Yes," Ozpin said, running a hand through Oscar's thick bob of hair. "I would take you to Berkley during the summer sessions, and sometimes she looked after you if I had a meeting."
"I remember she didn't smile a lot, but she kept candy in her drawer."
"Well, then, you can ask her if she still does."
"Can I ask-"
"No, Qrow, not if you don't want to sleep on the couch."
The face Qrow made was absolutely stricken, and he made the motion of zipping his lips and throwing away the key. Glynda was outside the auditorium, wrapped up in a tweed overcoat with purple lining. "Well," she said, "this is a treat. I can't remember the last time we had lunch together."
"Yes," Ozpin said brightly. "I hope you don't mind, but my family came to see me speak."
"Of course, I recognize young Oscar - though he's not young anymore - you've gotten so big. What grade are you in?"
"Freshman in high school," Oscar said proudly.
"Hmph. I must be getting old."
"Glynda, this is Qrow Branwen, my partner. Qrow, this is Professor Glynda Goodwitch, Head of Humanities at Berkeley." Please don't flirt, please don't flirt, please don't flirt…
"Pleasure, ma'am," Qrow said, shaking her hand and pulling at his red scarf. "Oz doesn't talk much about Berkeley, good to see he had some friends there." Oz silently sighed in relief; he glanced at his son and he smiled, nodding. "Does anybody know where we're eating?"
"That isn't campus food?" Glynda said with her trademark subtle-sneer. "There's a restaurant fifteen minutes from here I was thinking of. I certainly hope I get the full story of how you two met, Oz barely said anything in his emails."
Qrow gave a positively evil smile, and Ozpin realized he would be spending most of lunch with his hands on his temples. "Well, you see. Two years ago my nieces were in middle school…"
"Did you get the photos?"
"Yes. Are you certain?"
"I just heard him introduce the man as his partner. You didn't tell me the man - to coin a phrase - 'played for both teams.'"
"He didn't. That would be unnatural. Did you get a name?"
"Qrow Branwen. I'm already looking him up. He, I suspect, will have an address."
Author's Notes: Uh-oh. Uh-oh! That can't be good!
But again, this is a fluff chapter as everyone continues to mend their fences. Tai continues to be Best Supporting Character, helping out Yang work through her issues and recognize the best way to talk to Blake, and the two of them resolve their differences. It's a little fast, but once again this is a self-indulgence fic and everyone gets a happy ending here. Also more details from the PD of hell and what kind of long-term consequences these kinds of things bring.
Weiss and Blake have a lot in common, and the two of us can easily picture them looking out for others around them. The idea of them interviewing future dates to see if they're worthy of the Xiao Longs... it's just so funny. The pair even helped Nora in the first half of Season 8 - so... we predicted it? We kind of want the two of them to interact more in the show. Blake and Ruby, too, that would be an interesting pair.
Also Oz and Qrow being sweet together, a brief cameo of Glynda, and a hint at things to come.
Next chapter: Rapid switch to drama again: Weiss and Whitley talk, and Oz finally confesses his darkest moment of his Year of Hell.
Happy New Year everyone! May 2021 be dull, uneventful, and BORING.
