328 My OC Stash #28 - Professor Arc II: Headmaster Arc by Coeur Al'Aran (RWBY)

-Coeur is just an absolute unit of an author, I've greatly enjoyed the humor and Jaune's growth in almost all of his stories. From a Professor Arc to Headmaster Arc~ Also it's because of him I ship Neo and Jaune/ PLS MAN

Synopsis: He didn't know the first thing about running a school, nor fixing a political disaster spanning all of Remnant. Hell, he didn't even know how to deal with the world-ending conspiracy in the background, let alone a former-headmaster-possessed child. Yet here he was, leading Beacon Academy into a new age of glory. Or ruin. Definitely a fair chance of the latter…

Rated: T

Words: 431K

Posted on: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13220830/1/Professor-Arc-II-Headmaster-Arc (Coeur Al'Aran)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1-2 (exceptional)

Jaune Arc, eighteen years old and already headmaster of Beacon Academy, yawned into his hand and signed an important document, placing it in the `out` tray for Glynda to pick up later. A stiff breeze caught it the second he let go and the paperwork swept away, flying out of his reach before he could catch it, slipping out the window and escaping to freedom.

With a groan, Jaune stood and made his way across his office. The window was jammed, but with a solid pull he managed to close it.

The wall the window had been attached to fell inwards.

The other walls shook a little as well, what little integrity there was giving way as wind whistled through the huge holes. He didn't have a ceiling. He had a great big hole where one used to be, which looked up into the morning sun peeking over the horizon. Ozpin's once great clock face was shattered, though there was the minute hand stabbed into the floor like some giant spear.

As if to mock him further, the rest of the paperwork on the desk fluttered away and out another hole in the wall, scattering to the four corners of Remnant.

"The office has seen better days," Peter Port admitted.

"The whole school has seen better days, Peter. I've seen better days." Jaune sagged back at Ozpin's desk, at least pleased that the giant chair was heavy enough not to be blown away. His staff, his teachers, sat across the desk, all looking prim and proper despite the wind whipping at their hair, or the fact they were sat upon a ruined tower with no wall or roof.

Except for Roman, obviously. He was smoking.

"You should not smoke in the school building!" Glynda hissed.

"Hey. I opened a window." Roman grinned and indicated the ceiling, which he had, technically speaking, been involved in destroying. "Besides, you're the ones who wanted to hold this here. We could have done this in a warmer room."

"It's tradition." Glynda clutched her arms and shivered a little. "Jaune's original office was destroyed, and we're low on space as it is. I'm currently living in an empty student dorm. I did not sign up for that."

"I didn't sign up for the job at all," Jaune said, though he received no sympathy and instead a fierce glare. "Alright, alright, I get it. We need to get on with the rebuilding."

"Preferably before winter sets in," Oobleck said. "Though the student dorms still stand, the administration buildings are ruined, not to mention most of the classrooms. The cafeteria is completely lost. Buried under rock since Glynda used the ceiling as-" Oobleck cut off as Glynda coughed loudly and threateningly. "Since Adam Taurus was causing such a ruckus there and damaged the ceiling," he amended. "Necessitating Glynda to use said ceiling as a projectile weapon…"

"It was unavoidable," Glynda managed to say with a straight face.

Jaune sighed. "Couldn't you have limited the damage just a little?"

"I don't want to hear that from the man who crashed a battleship into the tower."

Jaune flushed and looked away.

"Speaking of," Roman said, "I got a letter from Atlas demanding we return their property. They also included a letter suggesting we gift-tie Jaune to it, followed with a third offering Glynda a job in Atlas."

"That's what, the fourth this week?"

Jaune sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wished he could have some coffee, but the supplies had been hit by the White Fang, who had apparently run off with all the coffee. Bastards. Bastards all of them.

As for Atlas' demands, there wasn't much to do. The ruined battleship was practically a part of Beacon now, buried half into the ground from the impact and, in some weird way, holding up sections of the school it had crashed into. It was kind of like a knife wound; you didn't want to pull it out for fear of how much more damage that would do.

"Let me know if I'm wrong," Jaune said, raising a hand. "But Atlas already hates our guts, right? Hypothetically speaking, we couldn't make it much worse than this."

"I wouldn't want to ask on James' part," Glynda said, "But yes, that's accurate. Atlas could not invade Vale because we're independent of Vale, and they cannot actually attack us because it would endanger Vale, which remains its ally." Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "You're about to suggest something reckless, aren't you? Something that will give me a migraine."

"Probably." He shrugged. "Roman, I want you to gut that battleship of any weapons and sell them on for profit. Since it's Atlas tech, Vale might be happy to buy it on the down low and reverse engineer it. Peter, Bart, how hard would it be to turn the battleship into part of the school?"

"Um." Oobleck scratched his cheek. "You mean to strip it for material?"

"Nope. I mean incorporate it into the school building. It's a big ass ship designed to transport hundreds of men, with barracks, rooms and storage facilities. I figure we can get some classrooms, offices and maybe a small cafeteria out of it."

Glynda groaned. "James is going to go ballistic…"

"Diplomacy aside, it could work," Oobleck mused. "We'd want to disarm it first, but the ship was designed to withstand an impact and much of it remains in good condition."

"Ho ho ho! I could think of a few students who would jump at the chance to have a dorm in an Atlas battleship."

"By any chance, Peter, are you among them?" Glynda asked snidely.

"Absolutely! I claim the Captain's Quarters."

"You can't just-"

"I claim," Peter said seriously, moustache twitching, "-the captain's quarters…"

"You are so immature…" Glynda sighed. "Fine. We still have issues of finance, however. Repairs cost money and unless I'm mistaken, we're very low on that. We've already had to import fresh food for the students and commission repairs on water, power and the heating systems. The budget wasn't designed for this."

"Well, there's still Roman's idea…"

"And I am still not comfortable with the idea of hiring students out as mercenaries! It sends the wrong message."

"So does going bankrupt."

"You may be fine with our students being told to risk their life for profit, but I am not." Glynda snatched the cigar from Roman's mouth with her Semblance and crushing it. "And I told you not to smoke in front of me! You're setting a bad image for the students!"

Roman cocked one eyebrow. "Says the woman who slept with a seventeen-year-old?"

It took the combined efforts of Peter and Bart to hold Glynda back from tearing Roman's eyes out with her bare hands.

"Do you have to bait her?" Jaune asked, hand on his face. Those two had never been the best of friends and being asked to work together hadn't helped. If a day went by without a fight of some kind, it usually meant one had happened out of sight.

"Honestly, I think I do. It's like a physiological need."

"Glynda, ignore him," Jaune said. "It's what I do and it's what Neo does."

"Harsh…"

"I despise him," Glynda said, face red and hair frazzled. "That man is a menace."

"I'm right here, you know."

"I will not indulge him with my attention." Glynda huffed and looked away. "Be sure to inform him that if he wishes to speak to me, he can leave a written message with you and you will deliver it to me."

"Seriously, woman? How childish can you be?"

"I shall inform him," Jaune said, avoiding the argument. "Now, Roman. Business. You're our finance officer. What's the situation?"

Roman pulled out a little black book and started to flick through it. "I've managed to balance the books so that we're nominally making a profit, but that's not going to last. Not with the kind of repairs we're looking at."

"How the hell did you end up with us making a profit? We just got invaded and spent everything we have on keeping this place running? What, did Ozpin have a billion lien hidden down the back of the sofa or something!?"

"Creative bookkeeping," their new Head of Finance replied. "Very creative bookkeeping. I wouldn't look at it too closely or it'll fall to pieces. Much like the school. Anyway, selling some Atlas weaponry will help prop us up a bit, but it's a stop-gap at best. We're broke ladies and gentlemen. Completely and utterly broke. You either let the kiddies earn us some cash, or you start turning tricks on the street corner yourself."

Glynda shuffled nervously.

"Or we sell Jaune to Atlas. They do have a rather big reward on his head."

To Jaune's irritation, it took Glynda, Oobleck and Peter a few seconds to decide that was a bad idea.

"We're all going to have to make sacrifices," Jaune said. "We'll be careful with the mercenary aspect and make sure we don't charge poor villages who can't afford it or ignore people in danger because they can't pay. Make it a voluntary thing, but strongly imply we'll be more likely to send experienced teams based on how charitable they are."

"Open up a protection racket," Roman said, ticking it off. "On it."

"That's not what I said!"

"It… kind of is," Oobleck admitted.

Jaune groaned. "Just… Just go teach some classes or something. I need to find a new office and re-do all my paperwork."

/-/

It wasn't the same without Weiss.

That was the first thought to cross Yang's mind as the morning insanity happened as usual, with Ruby running to claim the bathroom first and Blake making a half-hearted, sleepy, protest. Normally, it would have been Mount Weiss to erupt about how she had claimed it first, then bang on the door until Ruby turned the shower on and drowned her out.

The room felt empty without all of that.

Even Zwei couldn't get into the mood. The poor thing was snuggled up on Weiss' pillow looking dejected about the loss of his greatest fan and best back-scratcher. The little corgi let out a mournful whine.

"I know, boy." Yang sat on Weiss' bed and rubbed Zwei's head. "I miss her too."

"Hm. Me too." Blake yawned. "You think she's doing okay?"

"Hey. It's Weiss. I think she'll be doing fine, and probably making Ironwood's life hell in the process. I pity the poor bastards who try and replace us. Besides, she has Penny on her side."

"Which does not inspire me with confidence as to the state of Weiss' sanity."

"Heh. Penny is alright. Sort of. In small doses."

"I'll take your word for it." Blake began to collect her uniform for the day, laying it out on the bed while Yang played with Zwei and tickled his tummy.

There hadn't been any communication send back to them from Weiss, but that made sense, what with her being watched. The news had commented on Weiss Schnee's return to Atlas, however, so Yang was fairly sure they'd have heard if anything bad happened to her. The only thing they could do was support her from a distance.

For now, that was. They were totally going to hatch a plan to get their teammate back.

"You got another late-night session with the prof?" Yang asked.

"You mean the headmaster. And yes."

"Lucky…"

"No. Not lucky at all." Blake rounded on her, eyes ablaze. "Whatever debauched things you're imaging we get up to, you can stop. I spent more time signing and filling in paperwork than anything. I don't even know why I'm still stuck doing this. It was months ago that I ran off. Haven't I been punished enough?"

Yang rolled her eyes. "Spending the odd night with the youngest and hottest teacher in Beacon is not punishment."

"You… I…" Blake rubbed her temples. "There is so much wrong about what you just said that I cannot begin to process the level of stupid. You're a moron." Turning away, she shook her head. "And frankly, I'm beginning to think I'm just an unpaid intern being used as slave labour. I joined a terrorist organisation to escape this the first time."

"And we all saw how that went~"

"Yang… shut up."

"Heh. Fine, sour-puss." Yang grinned at Blake's evil glare. "You think we'll get lessons outside again?"

"Unless they repaired the school overnight, yes."

"It's fine with me. A little sun, a little wind. It's way better than a stuffy classroom."

"We'll see if you change your mind when winter sets in. I'm not sure how the school is going to cope. The numbers don't look good."

"Numbers…?"

"Financial records," Blake explained. "I look over them occasionally."

Sheesh. Blake got to hang with prof Jaune in his office on her own, just the two of them, and she was spending her time reading through accounting. Lame. If it were me, I'd have cracked that sexy bastard already. Hell yeah.

"You're thinking something stupid again. I can tell."

"Meh," she waved it off. "So we're a little low on cash. It's fine. We'll do that volunteer thing that's being mentioned."

"The mercenary thing?"

"Sure. Sounds fun."

"Team Raven would disagree. The last mission they went on turned into some zombie apocalypse with a body-horror mad doctor."

"Yeah." Yang sighed. "Those guys get all the fun…"

Once the showers were all done and Zwei was fed and taken out for a potty break, the three members of Team RWBY – who refused to call it anything but that – made their way down to the gardens outside Beacon, which had been turned into a buffet and BBQ style affair, with numerous tables laden with food and a collection of cooks working on fresh eggs, bacon, sausages and the like.

It was weird have to eat on plastic plates sat across the grass, but not uncomfortable. The weather was still warm, though there was a crispness to it that hinted of winter, and while there were a lot of students, the gardens were big enough to host all of them. Some people even sat upon the edges of craters left in the ground, using them as impromptu benches.

In the melee of chatting students and fast food, Yang spotted Team RVNN and yelled a greeting, leading Ruby, Blake and Zwei over.

"Yang!" Nora said, cheering as if they'd not seen one another for days instead of hours. The bubbly girl patted an empty spot next to her, which Yang took. Nora then cuddled Zwei under her bosom, rubbing the dog's stomach and making his leg kick happily.

"Morning," Ren said, more serene.

Pyrrha and Velvet gave their own greetings.

"Morning!" Ruby said, sitting next to Pyrrha. Blake took the spot on her other side, between Ruby and Ren.

Strange to think that only a week prior, the school had been the sight of an invasion. It still looked it, obviously. The craters aside, the fountain was now a wreck, the tower of Beacon was a stump, and there was a big battleship poking out the side of the main building. But they'd all just sort of got used to that, as if they were temporary additions. No one batted an eye as they skirted around rubble on the way to lessons or opened a door only to have it fall off its hinges.

Beacon was their school. Their home. That it was in a state of disrepair – if one were feeling particularly generous in saying it – didn't really bother them. It was Beacon. That was the only thing that mattered.

"Have you heard the rumours?" Velvet asked.

Bacon clutched between her teeth, Yang asked, "Whmfl rmmrs…?"

"Cardin and his team were out training earlier and saw the teachers and some builders looking over the Atlas battleship. They weren't taking it down, either. They were actually carrying benches and chairs into it."

"Oh my God, do you think they're going to make it a new dorm?" Ruby's legs kicked excitedly. "I want the captain's quarters!"

In the distance, a loud voice screamed, "NEVER!"

"Cool it, sis. We already have a dorm, remember?"

"Lucky you," Ren replied. "There are still some teams bunking in shared accommodation. Velvet's old team lost their room altogether. We've been letting hem borrow our shower in the morning, so they don't have to queue up with a hundred other people."

Yang grimaced at the thought. It was a little too reminiscent of their first night crammed in the auditorium. That had been fun, but only in a `looking back` kind of way. At the time, it sucked balls.

"How are they going to stop Atlas from freaking out if we re-purpose their military hardware into a dorm?" Blake wondered. "You can't just paint it the same colour as the school and claim it's a part of the architecture."

"I dunno…" Yang watched awkwardly as Oobleck and Port walked by with buckets of paint in hand.

"Maybe they just don't care," Pyrrha said. "What can Atlas do?"

"Put more pressure on us?"

"They've already maxed that out," Velvet snorted. "If the headmaster even enters the city, Vale has to make an attempt to arrest him to avoid political backlash from Atlas. There are sanctions on what can and can't be brought into Beacon by us students, and I don't know about you, but I think a trade embargo on coffee beans, cigars and ice-cream might just be targeted at some people Atlas doesn't like very much. Just saying."

"Huh. That'd explain why Mr Torchwick offered me an A on my next exam if I smuggled some cigars in for him," Nora said.

"Nora…" Ren said. "You didn't…"

"An automatic A, Renny! What was I supposed to say?"

"No!" Ruby, Ren, Pyrrha and Blake all said at once.

"He's a criminal, Nora!" Blake added angrily. Out of everyone, Blake despised Torchwick the most. Ironically, it was Ruby who was the least bothered by his new position in the school, despite that Ruby had fought him the most. "He can't be trusted, and I have no idea why Headmaster Arc chose to take him on in the school. He doesn't fit here."

A dry chuckle sounded from behind Blake. "Nice to hear your thoughts, kitty-cat. That'll be a detention by the way."

Roman Torchwick stood in his usual white coat, though it had seen better days and was frayed and burned at the edges, with black splotches all over it. His bowler hat was nowhere to be seen, the one true tragic loss of the battleship's impact with the school.

Well, that and the giant lemur statue.

"Also, good work on stocking me up, Nora." Roman lit a cigar and puffed happily. "You're a good student."

Nora giggled. "Thanks, Mr Torchwick!"

"No! Don't thank him!" Blake growled and would have risen to her feet if not for Ruby holding her down. "You're a crook, Torchwick. A criminal. I don't know why Beacon was willing to give you a second chance after what you did-"

"Like it did you, sweetheart?"

"Erk." Blake's face froze. "That… I… well, that's different. And you can't give me a detention for sharing my thoughts."

"Course I can. I'm a teacher and you are a student. Ergo, I can punish you. I'd like to see you walk past Miss Goodbitch and call her names. No, seriously. Try it and I'll revoke the detention. It'll be worth it just to see what she does."

Blake wisely chose not to take that offer.

"No? Cool. Don't worry, I won't make you write lines or sit in a corner. I hear you're pretty handy with paperwork, and I've got a lot of that." Turning away, Roman waved over one shoulder. "See you tomorrow night, kitty-cat."

Blake fell onto her hands and knees, eyes wide.

"There, there," Ruby said, rubbing her shoulder. "It's not that bad…"

"M-More paperwork… no… no more… Is this my life? Why…? What did I do…?"

Yang sighed and rolled her eyes.

It was going to be another one of those days…

/-/

"You seem lost."

Jaune glanced up from his new desk set in the bridge of the Atlas battleship. Or what was left of the bridge. It was all a little complicated since the ship had fallen nose down, which meant the floor he stood on was actually the wall, while the wall itself had metal chairs and terminals sticking horizontally out of it.

It was like one of those paintings designed to confuse your eyes and give you a headache. It was still better than the ruins of Ozpin's once proud office.

"Qrow?"

"I thought it was Bran," the man said, stepping into the room and then stumbling a little.

"Watch that first step. The floor isn't exactly even."

"Y-Yeah, I can tell." Qrow caught himself on a sideways chair and looked down to the hand-railing he'd tripped over. Those were on the floor now, along with windows, panels and the occasional storage cupboard. All were metal and almost impossible to remove, now forming the obstacle course that was Jaune's new office. "This place is giving me a headache just looking at it, and you want to work here?"

"Why not? All the work Ozpin left behind is giving me a headache anyway. It can't get any worse." Jaune slapped the final piece of paperwork into his drawer. The final piece for today, anyway. He still had a million and one other things to do.

Speaking of…

"Have you had any luck getting in contact with Ozpin? Or the boy he's possessing?"

"I managed to get a call through. It's not easy. He's in a kid that doesn't have a scroll, so it was more him getting in touch with me. He's not safe in Mistral, either, so he's moving about a lot."

"He'd be safe here."

"I know." Qrow carefully made his way around the office and sat on a wooden chair propped up over a window. The huntsman didn't seem to feel comfortable that his chair leg could go through it and spill him outside at any moment.

"Those are reinforced. It's fine."

"Still feels weird. Offices shouldn't have glass bottoms. Or glass ceilings." Qrow shuddered. "Anyway, Ozpin says he's going to head to Haven – Mistral's version of Beacon – and that we can contact him there. His old friend is the headmaster and knows about Ozpin's little condition."

"Great. We'll meet up and drag him back to Beacon," Jaune said, slamming a hand down. "And then…" He laughed. "Then, Ozpin can take this blasted position back again!" Jaune rocked back in his seat and laughed maniacally at the ceiling-wall.

"Yeah," Qrow said nervously, "About that…"

"I find myself not liking your tone, Bran…"

"Eheh… well… I talked to Oz as you know. And… well, he seemed to think he wasn't coming back to Beacon."

Jaune's mug cracked in his hand.

"Excuse me? Did you just suggest that Ozpin thinks he can get away with dumping me with this job while Beacon is literally falling to pieces so that he can gallivant around in the body of a pubescent child?"

"I think the kid is a little older than that…"

"Don't change the subject, Qrow."

"And to be fair, he didn't wander off and leave you the job. He died. He was murdered. That kinda wasn't a conscious choice on his part, and I doubt he got himself killed to inconvenience you."

"Most people die when they're killed. Ozpin is very much not dead. Ergo, technically, he is still the headmaster of Beacon, and I'm just filling in as his substitute." Jaune leaned across the table and glared at Qrow. "And I want him back! I want him here, chained to a desk and filling in his own damned paperwork for once! He created this situation-"

"Technically, you did. You're the one who helped Cinder into Beacon."

Jaune winced. "She'd have just found another way if I hadn't. Probably posing as a student and organising things from under Ozpin's nose."

"Jaune, Ozpin isn't that dense. He'd have noticed if a student was plotting an attack like that."

"I think you greatly overestimate him."

"Ozpin wants to stay in Mistral to deal with Salem," Qrow finally said. "I've told you all there is to know about her, and you know how dangerous she is. She makes Cinder look like a little puppy."

"And she wants to collect all the Relics," Jaune said.

"Yes."

"Which can only be opened by the four Maidens."

"Yes."

"Of which, we have one here – Pyrrha Nikos."

"Uh. Yeah…"

"And we also have one of the Relics hidden here somewhere, though neither you nor I know where and only Ozpin does."

"True…"

"Meaning," Jaune said, leaning forward, "That Salem can't do a damn thing at all as long as Beacon stands. Hence, why she tried to bring it down. Probably for the exact purpose of putting Ozpin in a vulnerable situation where he can be captured and tortured to give up information on where the Relic here is hidden."

Qrow's mouth fell open. "I… did not think of that…"

"Damn it." Jaune groaned and massaged his forehead. "What was Ozpin's idea, Qrow? Tell me."

"Uh…" Qrow's hesitation suggested he wouldn't like it.

"Qrow…"

"Just saying, it's his idea, not mine."

"QROW!"

"He wanted us to send Team RWBY to Mistral to personally help him in collecting the Relics," Qrow rattled off quickly. "I'd go with them to keep them safe and we'd move as a party of six across all the Kingdoms collecting the Relics until we could find a way to defeat Salem once and for all. Meanwhile, you would stay here and keep Beacon running until Ozpin needs you."

/-/

"It's fine, Bart," Peter said. "We'll just ask the young lad if we can set aside some budget to reward students who smuggle coffee into the school. I'm sure he'll-"

"ARGHHH!"

Peter Port's words were cut off as an almighty smash echoed from within the ship's bridge, which was followed by a wooden chair crashing through the glass window and exploding on the floor outside. It had come from within Jaune's new office.

Oobleck and Peter exchanged looks.

"On second thought, we could ask him later. Looks like he's busy."

"Good idea, old friend. Good idea."

/-/

"NO!" Jaune roared. "Absolutely not! That is the worst idea I have ever heard, and this is coming from someone who thought becoming a professor with zero qualifications and not even an unlocked aura was a good idea!"

"But-"

"I mean, what the hell, Qrow!? Team RWBY is three people right now. Three teenage girls who, while strong, are hardly Cinder Fall, Hazel Rainart and Tyrian Callows strong, let alone Salem strong! And collecting the Relics? WHY!? They're locked away. This seems to me a good thing. What would possess you to collect them in one spot where she could conveniently get all of them at once?"

"Well, I mean… Ozpin would protect them."

"Ozpin was murdered by Cinder! If he couldn't protect himself in a fully-grown body in the middle of his school surrounded by huntsmen loyal to him, and with the back-up of the Atlas military, then I very much doubt child-Ozpin and three-quarters of a team can do better!"

"No," Jaune said, trying to sit and then realising he'd thrown his chair away in a fit of anger. He stood instead. "You want to know how we're going to stop Salem and her people from destroying the world? We're going to do it by leaving the Relics where they are, keeping Pyrrha safe so that the Relic of Knowledge can never be retrieved, and re-building Beacon into a fortress."

"A fortress?"

"Sure. Why not? I mean, my office currently has the capability to fire lasers and missiles." Jaune patted the, disarmed, terminal poking out behind him.

"Huh. Touché…" Qrow leaned back and crossed his arms. "I guess that does make sense. If Salem sent her people to bring down Beacon first, it must have been for a reason. Both to get the Fall Maiden and to cut away Ozpin's support base. Fall Maiden opens the door to the Relic of Knowledge, which she could use to find the location of the other three Relics. And without the Fall Maiden's powers, that door won't be opening."

"Exactly. We keep Pyrrha safe and Beacon standing and we're pretty much set. Which means that Team RWBY doesn't have to wander around risking their life for no good reason and Ozpin can come back and save me from this waking nightmare."

"I don't think he's going to like his plan being usurped, though."

"Obviously." Jaune rolled his eyes. Ozpin was probably revelling in being free from this bureaucratic nonsense. He would be if the positions were reversed. "We won't tell him. Simple. Next time he calls you, tell him we'll meet at Haven as planned. Except that Glynda and I will be coming with you, and we'll explain to Ozpin the new plan and drag him back."

"Works for me. To be fair, I didn't want to set Ruby and Yang off on something like this either." Qrow laughed nervously. "He'll be pissed, but I guess he'll understand if we explain."

"If there's something I'm missing, I'll listen to him," Jaune said. It wouldn't do to dismiss Salem entirely. "But if there is, and Ozpin really does need people to help him, it's going to be professionals. Not students. Throwing Team RWBY to the Beowolves is just stupid."

"Won't find me disagreeing. Alright, I'll keep quiet for now. What about the kid?" Qrow asked. "The kid he's possessing."

"What about him? I feel bad for the poor guy – I mean, he has Ozpin in his head, and Ozpin hasn't had his special coffee for weeks. That has to be the worst fate imaginable. I'm not sure what I can do about it, though."

"Not that. I mean, he's fourteen, maybe fifteen. He can't exactly become headmaster at that age."

Good point.

Frightening point.

Jaune saw his dream spiralling down the drain. Desperately, he clung onto it.

"He can still do paperwork. I don't mind being a figurehead, but Ozpin isn't leaving me to navigate this mess on my own. I've got Ironwood trying to tear my head off, the Council of Vale alternating between half-hearted attempts to arrest me and attempts to get me to attend Council meetings at the same time. Apparently, I hold a seat because of my position."

Never mind the question of how he could attend without being arrested, or how they were going to do either of those things in the first place. It wasn't even like he could sneak in since he was the number one person of interest to every media outlet on the planet right now. There were more paparazzi in the forest than Grimm.

Not to mention paparazzi corpses.

A whole load of those…

"Meanwhile, our budget is a black hole, the White Fang are still out there – except now I have them suggesting we meet. Some Sienna Kahn, and yes, she looks as terrifying as she sounds."

"She hot?"

"I'm not going to answer that. Apparently, she says the White Fang did not, and would not, organise an attack on a huntsman academy, and that the rumours that the White Fang did, are all fraudulent."

"Which is pretty hilarious," Qrow commented, "Considering all the video footage we have."

"Yes. And I've also got to watch out for Cinder, who, if I'm not being cynical here, probably wants to tear out my entrails and roast them over an open fire."

"Fair assessment."

"And finally, I have Jacques Schnee inviting me to a formal charity dinner in honour of Beacon and to help with the repair efforts."

Qrow perked up. "That's good!"

"In Atlas."

"Less… good…"

"Attended by Ironwood."

Qrow winced. "You're not�� uh… going, are you?"

"Roman thinks it'll send the wrong message if I don't, and we do need the money. Badly. Also, it'll be a grave offence if I send someone else and don't attend myself."

"Shit… That… That sounds bad."

"Thanks for the analysis. So, you can probably see why I'm a little stressed." Jaune crossed his arms and sat on the edge of his desk. "Ozpin is coming back to help with this if I have to swim to Mistral myself, stuff him into a canon and fire him back!"

"You've… not had any coffee today, have you?"

"It's been trade embargoed," Jaune said, voice filled with despair. "Ironwood's sanctions have hit us hard. There's only so many bags Roman's contacts can smuggle in. Glynda offered her herbal tea, but…" A tear ran down his cheek. "It's just not the same…"

"Riiight." Qrow uncorked his hip flask and took a swig. "Times like this I'm glad I chose a safer thing to get addicted to. What's the plan, then?"

"I'll let you know when we figure it out. Glynda is currently agonising over how to both attend this dinner, not start a war and come out with funding. Short of poisoning Ironwood ahead of time so he gets diarrhoea and can't attend, I'm out of ideas." Jaune shrugged. "I figure we'll just show up and wing it. How hard can it be?"

"Incredibly…?"

"Still not harder than getting rid of Cinder and saving Beacon."

"True," Qrow admitted, "But you did that by crashing a battleship into the school you were protecting and causing untold collateral damage. I don't think we want that to happen at the Schnee manor. It might not endear you to the richest man alive."

"As long as Ironwood keeps his battleships away from me, that won't be a problem."

At least he'd have a chance to catch up with Weiss and see how she was doing. Now, he just had to figure out how to tell Team RWBY they wouldn't be coming to the gala. Something he was sure would cause quite a few complaints.

"Would it be so bad if you stayed headmaster?" Qrow asked.

"I'm not sure how you can ask that with a straight face. You know the truth, Qrow. I'm no teacher and no huntsman. I'm a kid. I'm Yang's age. I should be trying to ask girls out and making an ass of myself, not plotting how to handle several political, military and terrorist organisations at the same time, while running a school which is currently crumbling down around our ears."

"Eh. But you're doing a good job."

"It's been a weak. Give it time…"

/-/

Although his room had been totalled, he'd found another; a disused student dorm that only had one bed, the others removed and used to help those students without rooms at all. While it felt unfair to have a room to himself when others didn't, Glynda pointed out that appearances were important. With his workload, he couldn't afford to not get a good night's sleep.

Unlocking it with his scroll, Jaune stepped inside.

The loss of a kitchenette hurt – not because he was a good cook, but because it meant his alcohol cupboard had been lost. The room could fit four students comfortably, but somehow seemed cramped on his own.

Not that he was. He could easily see the shape asleep in his bed.

"You don't waste time, do you?"

Neo didn't answer, not that she could have if she wanted to.

Unlike Roman, Neo hadn't been granted an official position in Beacon. But then, what could they give her, and why bother? Neo was a law unto herself and went wherever she pleased. It didn't surprise him to see she'd bundled herself up in his bed any more than it did to see she hadn't left him any blanket space, having wrapped it all around her small body and stacked all his pillows under her.

Even asleep, she was a complete bitch.

Don't be fooled by the cute, he thought, looking away from her slumbering face. Or the sexy, he thought again, trying not to think on how her lips had felt on his. Grumbling, he opened up a cupboard nearby and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket. Coming back to the bed, he laid them down on his side.

Neo immediately rolled over, collected the hew blanket and rolled back, wrapping it up around herself until she was a cocoon of blankets with her head poking out.

All without waking up.

"Son of a bitch…"

With a sigh, he placed his pillow down and laid back on it before she could steal it, claiming his side of the bed and laying there with his hands hooked behind him. Somehow sensing his heat through all the blankets, the Neo-roll rolled over against him and began to silently snore. Jaune stared at the ceiling, at least grateful for the fixed heating that meant the room would be warm enough without blankets.

Amazing how even if some things changed, so many more remained the same.

"Zwei, no! Stop!"

"Get that mutt off my bed!"

"Stop yelling!"

Jaune sighed and clenched his eyes shut.

Also, amazing – and fortunate – that Team RWBY hadn't realised he'd taken the room directly next to theirs. He dreaded to imagine what their reaction would be if they did. Yang would probably try and climb out her window and sneak in. Or worse, Zwei. The stupid assassin-dog still had it in for him. Nervously, he checked the drawn curtains, even if he could hear Yang laughing through the wall behind him.

"So, did you get up to anything fun with Jaune in counselling?" Yang asked.

"Yang!"

"What? You saying he didn't bend you over his desk? Boring. If I were you, I'd wear sexy lingerie and let him catch a little glimpse. Tease him until he snaps and pushes me down."

"Yaaaang, stop," Ruby whined. "It's embarrassing."

"What? Not like he'll ever hear me say it."

Closing his eyes and ignoring his embarrassment, and his red cheeks, Jaune stifled a groan and prepared for a couple of long nights. Frankly, if this were going to continue, Ozpin couldn't be dragged back soon enough.

Neo's face twitched at the noise and she rolled over, rolling directly on top of his stomach and chest and somehow finding that comfortable. Of course, she didn't care that her multicoloured hair had fallen across his face, or that it tickled his skin and her body had his hands pinned to his side. To wake her up was to suffer. To leave her was to suffer a worse pain.

"Fuck my life…"

Hoo boy. It's been a while since I wrote Professor Arc. This chapter was as much me reminding myself of the scene as it was reminding everyone else. A lot of "setting up" for this opening chapter. As you might remember, I said I'd have to place it on hiatus while I waited to see what RWBY canon would bring us. And, ironically, after seeing Seasons 4-6… I've decided not to use them at all.

Not because of any hate for the direction and everything, but because it just wouldn't work.

The magic of Professor Arc very much involved Beacon as the setting. The story only worked because of the school, the threats to it and the interactions between the various members of the faculty – often comedic, usually silly, but always heartfelt.

Professor Arc 2 wouldn't work if they left Beacon and went on an adventure to stop Salem, so I decided that I couldn't use any of canon in this. Or rather, I couldn't use the canon plot. Salem and her lot still exist, but Beacon didn't fall, which means their attack on the school isn't done. As such, we'll be staying here in Beacon.

Chapter 2

"Long night?" Peter asked.

"You might say that." Jaune rubbed his eye and yawned. To look at them, you'd have thought Team RWBY a sweet and adorable teem of lovely young girls and their cute puppy. The reality was so much different it hurt. "How was sleeping in the battleship?"

"Capital! Absolutely capital!"

"Good for you." The smug bastard. "What's on the itinerary for today? Actually, scratch that. Where's Glynda?" Jaune looked around, but there was only him, Peter and Bart in attendance. "I think this is the first time I've ever made it to a meeting before her."

"You might want to notice who else is missing," Bart said.

"Roman…" Jaune groaned. "What have they done this time?"

"It appears they had a disagreement on the lawns this morning…"

"As always…"

"And that their verbal sparring may have turned into actual sparring. They're both currently recovering in the infirmary from a few minor injuries and some severe aura depletion. They should be fine. In an hour or so."

"Well, at least I won't have to come up with a punishment if Tsune is looking after them. Men, we have a problem."

"Question," Oobleck said, hand raised.

"Yes?"

"Is this a problem best handled by the three of us? Not to sound like I'm shirking work, but our record of solving problem without Glynda is… ah… not the best." Oobleck scratched his cheek awkwardly.

"That… is a good point." A sad point. A mournful point. "Fine, I'll discuss it with Glynda later. On a slightly lesser problem, we now have no teacher for combat class in fifteen minutes. Ideas?"

"Tell the children to help with construction and frame it as conditioning training. The act of carrying heavy equipment like wounded huntsmen." Peter suggested. "Or that it'll help them in the field if they ever have to repair a village that has been attacked."

"I like it. Let's go with that."

"You think the children will believe it?" Oobleck asked.

"They'd have to be very cynical not to."

/-/

"And that is why you will be assisting with the construction efforts today," the headmaster said. "Remember that in the field we do more than just fight the Grimm. If you ever save a village or town, there may be people in desperate need of assistance."

The headmaster's expression was deadly serious and his words, as ever, captivated the audience sat out on the grassy field of the outdoor training grounds. There were several members of the construction crew hired to rebuild Beacon beside him, ready to offer help in directing the students.

"Here at Beacon, we have taught you how to fight. How to survive. You've been through more than you ought to so far, but you all rose to the challenge when we were attacked. Look around you," he said, indicating the ruined field and the crumbling building. "This is what so many see after the Grimm have been defeated. Homes destroyed, families torn asunder and you, standing as heroes, but unable to do anything to help now that the Grimm are gone."

"That changes today. Knowing how to rebuild is just as important, if not more so, than knowing how to destroy, and this specialised lesson will assist with that." Smiling, Headmaster Arc looked out over his students. "Any questions?"

A hand went up.

"Yes, Mr Winchester."

"Does this have anything to do with Mr Torchwick and Miss Goodwitch being carried to the infirmary earlier?"

"Um. No." The headmaster laughed. "That is all just a coincidence, I assure you."

"it's just that Miss Goodwitch had already made plans for what we were going to do today."

"Plans change, Mr Winchester. After thought and consideration, we, with Glynda's input, came up with this new opportunity. It's a shame she didn't have the chance to tell you herself, but it was only decided yesterday."

"Oh." Cardin looked confused. "Because Miss Goodwitch told my team this morning that we'd be sparring with Team RVNN."

A bead of sweat ran down the headmaster's cheek. "Did she? My, how forgetful of her. Well, if questions are over, I'll leave you all to your lessons." He leapt down off the dais and power-walked away before anyone could as more.

Nora leaned in towards Pyrrha, "Hundred lien says lessons got cancelled because of the fight."

"That's a fool's bet, Nora."

"Hm. Fine. Hundred lien says Mr Torchwick won the fight."

Pyrrha glanced back. "Done."

"Construction," Yang groaned – loudly. "Come ooooonnn, that's so boring."

"I think it's a great idea," Ruby said defensively. "Jaune is right. I'd feel bad if I couldn't help a village rebuild after a Grimm attack. Teaching us this is going to help us save more lives than just by fighting."

"You sure you're not just defending your precious crush?"

"N-No!" Ruby flushed bright red. "That's not it at all!"

"Oh, you're adorable."

"Stop teasing her," Pyrrha said, pulling Ruby over to her side. "Whatever her motives, she's not wrong. We know how to fight. Learning a few other skills won't be bad for us, and even if this is just a ruse, it's still good exercise."

Ruby stuck her tongue out at Yang from under Pyrrha's arm.

"Yeah, yeah." Yang rolled her eyes. "Fine, mom."

Rising with the other students, the two teams joined Team CRDL and followed one of the construction foremen to the cafeteria. It was in a sorry state to say the least, its roof caved in and yellow tape strapped all over it to try and stop students wandering in – as if any were blind or dumb enough not to realise it was a death trap. Their job wasn't to rebuild, but to help in breaking up the rubble and carrying it out.

For Blake, it was a personal problem because she knew Adam had been a part of this. Had been, and still was – remaining at large and having escaped Beacon with the remnants of the White Fang. He'd want revenge, that much was certain.

It was hard to resist the call to find and deal with him.

At least until she imagined how much longer her punishment would be extended to if she did. She'd run off once to the docks and been stuck on paperwork duty for what felt like a year. If she did it again, she had a feeling the headmaster would keep her as his assistant until retirement age.

"I don't like the look on your face," Yang said.

"What?"

"That's a `I'm going to look for the White Fang` expression."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"No, it is," Ruby said, lugging a much smaller piece of debris out the cafeteria. "I think Weiss had the chart on her scroll, but that's a `Blake being Bad expression number three` I think."

Blake glared at them. "You did not categorise my expressions."

"Nope."

"Good."

"Weiss did."

Blake growled.

"And for good reason," Yang added. "I mean, you were running off all the time back then. Level with me, kitty-cat. You're not going to do the same again, are you?"

"Don't call me that."

"What? You never had a problem with me calling you it before."

"That was before Torchwick took it as his nickname for me," she hissed. "But no, I'm not going to go chasing after the White Fang. I don't think it's necessary now."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Blake sighed and wiped some sweat from her brow. "The main reason I wanted to before was because I didn't think anyone was taking the matter seriously. I could see a plot coming into action, but no one was doing anything to stop it. Now? Everyone knows what they're capable of. I'd be surprised if the police aren't scouring Vale for them."

"When they're not trying to arrest the prof, you mean."

Blake rolled her eyes. "Do they even try at that? It's just to appease Atlas."

"I'm not sure Jaune has actually left Beacon since the attack."

"He hasn't," Blake confirmed. As his indebted-assistant she would have known if he had. "To be fair, there's too much to do here as it is, and I don't think there's anything he would need in Vale. He'd also be swamped by people asking him questions."

"Tell me about it. I got swamped by journalists just for being a Beacon student…"

"I know," Blake hissed. "Because you tripped and threw me at them as a distraction so you could escape!"

"Yeah." Yang smiled fondly. "Good times."

One of the foremen caught them dawdling and shouted for them to get back to work. There was only eleven of them at the cafeteria, so three hanging around talking was noticeable. Grumbling, the girls got back to it, Yang smashing a larger rock into pieces and then smaller ones so that Blake, Ruby and her could carry them out.

"Weiss should be – huff – glad to miss this. Ugh." Yang dropped a boulder that had been just a little too big for her. "Hell. Pyrrha wasn't wrong. This is some intense exercise…"

"Yeah…" Ruby panted and massaged her shoulder after bringing another. "Though I wouldn't say no to her glyphs right now. Or just Weiss in general…"

"I know, sis. I know. We all want her back."

"Speaking of," Blake said, her voice lowering to a whisper. "I did a little looking through the headmaster's paperwork last night…"

Yang, sensing the tone, leaned in. "You could get in trouble for that."

"Please, I'm the one he gives it to. Not my fault if he accidentally left something in there I'm not supposed to see, and I'm pretty sure he didn't want me to see this one."

"What makes you so certain?"

"There was a little note on the top in red saying `Don't let Team RWBY know`."

Yang and Ruby blinked. "Yeah, I… guess that would be some strong evidence. What did it say?"

"There's a charity dinner the teachers have all been invited to, along with a few students. It's to the Schnee manor in Atlas, hosted by Jacques Schnee. It's supposed to raise money toward repairs for Beacon."

"Why would the SDC care about Beacon?" Yang asked, lifting some more rubble. "I thought they were a soulless company that only cared about profit."

"Oh, they are," Blake said with the easy certainty of the totally unbiased. "But the academies are still important. It's why I was so amazed the White Fang would actually attack Beacon. Huntsmen protect everyone from the Grimm. With the SDC, even though they're in Atlas, Grimm overtaking Vale is bad for business. Vale buys a lot of their dust."

"Makes sense. So, they're going to raise money for repairs. Sounds good. Why wouldn't the prof want us to know about it?"

"Because Weiss is going to be singing there."

Ruby dropped her rock immediately.

Yang howled, clutched her foot and topped like a felled tree.

"Weiss is!?" Ruby gasped. "We have to go there!"

"Shh, shh!" Blake covered Ruby's mouth with one hand, release her own piece of rubble.

Yang howled again.

"I know, I know. That's why I read through it all." Looking around to make sure they hadn't been heard, Blake whispered, "The invite said it was for the teachers and a set of students, anywhere from four to eight. There weren't any mentioned by name, so it's probably the teachers who get to decide."

"Mmmbl umblll…" Ruby said past her hand.

Blake let go.

"How do we get picked?"

"I'm not sure. The note pretty much says the teachers aren't going to pick us, and for good reason. They know we'd want to bring Weiss back. I don't think we're going to get to go even if we become exemplary students. We'll need to be sneakier. Make it so that the headmaster has to take us along."

"How… agh." Yang rolled some rubble off her foot and clutched it with both hands. "How the hell are we supposed to do that? By making it so that no one else wants to go? Breaking the legs of everyone who gets picked until no one is left?" At their silence, Yang added, "That was a joke. We're not `Nora`-ing this."

"No, I wasn't about to suggest it, just…" Blake looked around nervously. "I might have an idea, but I don't think the teachers will like it. We might get in trouble. No, we'll definitely get in trouble. The question is whether it's worth it."

"If we get to see Weiss again, I think it is." Yang said. "Ruby?"

"I'll accept any punishment to make sure she's okay…"

"Looks like we're in. You gonna tell us this plan of yours, Blake?"

"Fine. It's risky and is going to require a lot of things to go just right. I'll actually need your help to set the stage for this, Yang. I need you to do something."

"Yeah?"

"Be yourself."

Yang crossed her arms. "Meaning…?"

"Be yourself around headmaster Arc, but…" Blake sighed and wondered if she's be going to hell for this. "Crank it up to eleven."

Her partner's eyes glinted maliciously.

"Ooh. Yang likey."

/-/

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes. Thanks for coming, Glynda."

"No problem." The deputy headmistress, and the woman he'd been dating for a while (though that was up in the air now) stepped easily around the unusual protrusions coming out the floor of his battleship office and took a seat opposite his desk.

It was hard not to mention her black eye.

Very, very hard.

Her glare said it would be the last mistake he ever made. And, to be fair, he'd seen Roman limping around earlier with a split lip.

"I wanted your opinion on this," he said, pushing a latter across the desk.

Glynda took and read through it. Her eyebrows rose above the letter as she did, her entire body leaning back in her chair as if she didn't know what it was she had in her hands. When she was done, the slapped it down.

"This has to be a joke…"

"That was what I thought at first, but she wants to set up a meeting."

"Sienna Kahn is the leader of the White Fang. The same terrorist group that attacked Beacon. You cannot be thinking of meeting with her. You've made a number of ridiculous decisions in the past, but this takes and cake and I-"

"What ridiculous decisions…?" Jaune asked, hurt.

Glynda froze, then coughed into her fist and settled down. "Sorry. I forgot myself there and thought you were Ozpin."

"Ah. All forgiven."

"Quite." Coughing again, she adjusted her glasses. "So, you want my opinion? That's a good start. Ozpin would just bullishly drive ahead with whatever asinine idea he had. Like tossing the students off a cliff instead of, say, using the Bullheads we have to deliver them safely to the bottom. It's a miracle we avoided a lawsuit that day…"

"I thought Beacon was covered if students died?"

"In Grimm-related incidents or as part of training accidents where there is no negligence. People accept a certain amount of danger. Using catapults to launch people off a cliff? I dare say that doesn't count. Anyway, this isn't about initiation. Sienna claims she had nothing to do with the attack. What do you think of that?"

"I don't know what to think," he admitted. "On the one hand, it was a small group of the White Fang who attacked, and we know Cinder manipulated them like she did me and Roman. On the other, Sienna is still a wanted terrorist. It kind of doesn't matter if she meant to attack Beacon or not."

"My thoughts exactly. Although…"

"What?" he asked. "You can't be suggesting this is a good idea. Ironwood will flip." Jaune paused. "Again! More than usual! He'll go absolutely insane if I meet with the leader of the White Fang. He'll literally froth at the mouth and ride a missile to my door personally."

"All true, I'll admit, but this does produce something of an opportunity. It's a dangerous one, I'll admit, but this hints at a schism in the White Fang." Glynda tapped the signed missive. "If Sienna Kahn had no input in the attack and condemns it, that might mean that the White Fang is not entirely in league with Cinder and Salem. Yet."

Jaune winced. "Yet…"

"If we ignore this, there's no telling what will happen. It might be Salem's plan to force us into a confrontation. With this attack, the White Fang are essentially at war with all of Remnant. If we do the obvious thing – which is to do nothing – then Sienna might be forced to work with Cinder, if only to keep her people alive."

"Ugh." Jaune groaned and dropped his head onto the table. Against the wood, he mumbled, "Which means the correct thing to do is to meet with her and try to bring a ceasefire, letting the White Fang go back to just being terrorists."

"Better terrorists than working directly with Salem, yes. Although better neither, obviously. That's not going to happen, though."

"Great. So, I need to meet with her."

"It would be both a wise and unwise decision. I'm sorry I can't offer more. My only advice would be for it to be in a neutral location and with as many of us with you as can reasonably be allowed. They attacked us, so you should be fine to make a few demands of them."

"You think she'll come to Beacon?"

"No. And I don't think it wise to invite her here, either. If the media got wind of it…"

"It would seem like I was legitimising her. Got it. That does leave Mistral as a possible meeting spot, and we'll be going there once Ozpin reaches it."

"Picking up Ozpin and meeting with Sienna Kahn?" Glynda's ill look made it clear what she thought of that. "I suppose it would be best to get it out the way as quickly as possible. Before Cinder can make a move to finalise the White Fang's allegiance." She groaned. "It's as good a time as any. I shall make arrangements and speak with Leonardo Lionheart to arrange for use of his facilities. I shall reply to this `Sienna` as well," she said, taking the letter. "It would show more respect than she deserves if you were to respond to her directly."

"Sure." He smiled and let her go. "Thanks for your help on this, Glynda. I mean it."

"No thanks necessary. And thank you for bringing it to my attention and not rushing off into something foolish." Glynda opened the door and almost bumped into another blonde. "Miss Xiao-Long? What are you doing here?"

"I needed to ask the headmaster something. Oh wow, is that a black eye?"

Yang's question never got answered as the girl suddenly tripped over the same hand railing Qrow had, tumbling to the floor.

"Watch your step, Miss Xiao-Long. The floor isn't even."

The door closed.

"B-But I didn't even take a step forward. Something pushed me." Brushing some dust off her arm, Yang shrugged. "Eh, whatever. Hey prof~"

"Yang." Jaune leaned back as if he were dealing with some venomous snake. With Yang, it wasn't far off. "Or Miss Xiao-Long…"

"Call me Yang."

"That would be inappropriate."

"Why? You call Ruby and Blake by their names."

Yes, but they don't scare and entice me in equal measure.

It had been particularly bad today for some reason. He hadn't been able to walk in the same corridor as her without her brushing up against him, jumping in front of him or just shaking her hair in his direction, making her soft locks brush against his arm.

Yang knew what she was doing. The problem was that she was too damn good at it, and that she had no qualms about pushing her limits whatsoever. Probably helped that despite him being a teacher, he was still her age. At best, she thought him two years older.

"I was just Yanging around having some fun, and I thought; hey, why don't I see how the prof is doing?"

"The Prof is doing busy." he lied. "Lots of paperwork."

"Yeah, Blake told me. You sure you're not using her for unpaid labour?"

"The only thing I'm sure of is that I have no idea what you mean."

"Riiiight." Yang winked at him. "I'll buy it. You know, if you wanted someone to help you with work, you could ask me."

"I've a feeling I wouldn't get much work done if I did."

"Oh?" Yang's expression said he'd made a mistake in admitting it. "Really now," she cooed. "I wonder why that is?" She stepped forward, swinging her hips – and was it his imagination or was she wearing her skirt a little higher than usual?

As a teenage man, he noticed these things.

"Is something about me distracting you…?"

"No," he lied. "What did you want with me, Miss- Yang?"

"I came for counselling."

"I'm no longer the school counsellor. Sorry, but there just isn't the time anymore, even if people probably need it now more than ever. I'm looking for someone else to fill the role, but it's not going as well as I'd like."

The options were painfully limited. Really, it came down to Glynda, who scared people. Port, who scared people for a very different reason and would probably talk over them. Oobleck, who was just a little too hyper and a little too busy to do it. Roman, who… well, enough said. Tsune… no student deserved that.

And Neo…

No.

Just no.

"It's up in the air. The moment I find someone suitable, you'll be the first to know."

"Poo." Yang hopped up onto his desk, sitting on the corner of it. Her thigh was perilously close to his face and he couldn't look away from it. Why did she wear stockings that stopped mid-thigh? It couldn't be comfortable, and the tempting expanse of skin always drew his attention.

Oh wait, that was the reason wasn't it?

He tore his eyes up.

Yang's grin said she'd noticed him noticing and liked it.

"That's my desk," he said.

"Yeah. A very sturdy desk. Easily handles my weight."

Jaune's cheeks heated up. "You're being… surprisingly forward today."

"Eh. What's the point in beating around the bush? I like you and you know I like you. I could be a shy and reserved maiden about it, but I'd rather not lie to your face like that. Besides, I'm up against some stiff competition, so I figured I should up my game."

"Oh Gods…" And he'd thought Sienna Kahn wanting a meeting was the real bad news for the day. Now he couldn't stand up without poking Yang with his `not-so-little problem` under the desk. "I really think you should go back to your dorm, Yang."

"Will you come with me?"

"No. Absolutely not. That would be…" A host of positive adjectives came to mind. "A bad idea," he said weakly. "A very, very bad idea."

"Laaame. All work and no play, prof."

"I'm your headmaster!"

"So? You won't be forever, and I'm not interested in a one-time encounter." Yang winked and blew a kiss onto her fingers, then pressed it against his cheek. "Give it a few years and I'll be a huntress. What you going to say when you can't hide behind the teacher excuse?"

"Yes?"

Her eyes lit up. "That a promise?"

"I – I didn't mean that," he hissed, face flaming. Curse his stupid brain. "Y-You really have to go now. I have work to do and detention with Blake."

Leaning forward, Yang grinned. "You sure you don't want to give me detention, too? Like you said, I'm being way too forward. Am I not a nighty girl who needs to be punished?" Slowly, Yang liked her lips. "Are you going to punish me, sir?"

The door to his office opened.

Blake stood there, looking a little uncertain.

"Blake!" he gasped, more relieved than he cared to admit. "Hi, yes, perfect timing. Come in. Yang was just going." Sweat pouring down his face, he looked to his faunus student desperately. "Weren't you, Yang? Just going? Yes?"

He wasn't sure if it was mercy or privacy, but Yang laughed. "Yeah, sure. I was just on my way out.

As she passed by Blake, the blonde gave her partner a grin and a wink.

"Um." Blake looked as embarrassed as he felt. "Do I want to know what that was about?"

"No. No, you don't." Groaning, Jaune covered his red face with his hands. "Your desk is over there, as is the paperwork for the night. Do what you have to. I'm going to try and find us a counsellor before your teammate proves the death of me."

/-/

"Drink it. We paid for it."

"It tastes horrible."

"Stop speaking out loud. I'm in your head and you're making a scene. Drink it."

Oscar Pine grimaced and drew the white cup up to his lips, sipping on the tar-like substance. It was hot, thick and tasted like burnt food. Unrecognisable food. Horrible food. His eyes rolled back, and he shuddered, swallowing as quickly as he could to get it over with.

"Yesss," the voice in his head said. "That's it…"

This sounds far too much like grooming for my liking…

"And now my enjoyment is ruined," Ozpin sighed. "While I would equate a good cup of coffee to the act, I can assure you that – physical limitations aside – I have no interest in you."

But you do want my body.

He could feel Ozpin rolling his non-existent eyes.

"Honestly, if I had a choice over bodies, yours would be at the very bottom of the list. I'd have enjoyed being in Mr Arc, if I can be honest. Young, in a position of power, banging Glynda."

"Who?" he asked out loud.

"Trust the mention of sex to catch a teenage boy's attention. And you can stop looking at that waitress, Oscar. So long as I remain in your head and you remain underage, the closest you will come to a woman is within shouting distance."

Oscar's face flushed bright red and he hid it in another sip of coffee, mostly to shut Ozpin up. He was so embarrassing sometimes, and it felt like nothing was private. He couldn't so much as look at a pretty girl without Ozpin either commenting on his low odds, reminding him of their true mission or, worse, offering the woman a score out of ten.

Usually very poorly.

"A four at best. You really have no appreciation for mature women."

I'm fifteen!

"What fifteen-year-old boy does not look at older women?" Ozpin sighed in absolute disappointment. "For shame. To be locked in the head of such a person. Regardless, that is not important. We are on a mission of grave importance here."

Is that why you demanded I stop for a cup of coffee…?

"Yes. Coffee is fuel for the tired mind, so stop whining and drink some more." Oscar did. "Good. We're making decent progress towards Haven, but we're going to have to trek through the forest between it and Mistral."

Isn't that full of Grimm…?

"Yes, but not to worry, I was the headmaster of Beacon. I know a thing or two about fighting Grimm."

Yeah, but I don't, Oscar pointed out.

"You should have some of my muscle memory."

What use would that be? Apart from making no sense whatsoever, muscle memory wouldn't fix the fact that he had no muscle to speak of. He was a kid. A kid who had never trained to fight before. Even if Ozpin's memories could tell him how to do so, it wouldn't change the fact he wasn't strong, fast or fit enough to put up with such an ordeal for any amount of time.

"Yes, you do have a lot of deficiencies," Ozpin agreed. "We'll have to do something about that."

Well excuse me! It's not like I expected to become the host for someone like you!

"Poor planning on your part then."

What…? How…? That didn't even make sense! Oscar ground his teeth together and tried to think of calming thoughts. Ozpin over a burning fire. Ozpin over a burning fire. Ozpin being tortured in a vat of boiling coffee.

"Cute."

I hate you so much…

"I'm sure I'll break down in tears any moment now." He paused for sarcastic effect. "Ah. That's better. Now, you're going to need a weapon if we're to approach Haven. That means we'll need resources, and you're rather lacking when it comes to lien."

I'm fifteen!

"Have you ever worked a job before?"

I'M FIFTEEN!

"Lazy, too, by the sounds of it. Very well. We shall have to fashion a weapon from some supplies of our own. A solid branch ought to do."

Can't we just call your friend to help us? The Qrow guy? Or maybe even the headmaster of Haven, who you keep saying is on your side. If he runs the school then he can send a Bullhead to fetch us, can't he?

"That may well alert our enemies to our position."

Your enemies.

"Our enemies," Ozpin corrected. "While I trust Leonardo implicitly and am an excellent judge of character, there is always a chance he may trust someone who is not. Not everyone can be as perfect as me."

Oscar groaned.

"As such, we will make the journey on foot. Team RWBY should then arrive with Qrow, and we will embark on our journey."

Despite the risk and everything else involved, Oscar perked up. Team RWBY? That's the team of girls you told me about, right?

"Down boy. Down."

Oscar blushed. I wasn't thinking anything like that!

"Need I remind you that I share your mind? Anything you feel, I feel. That you are attempting to make me feel desire towards children is troubling enough. Could you pour some bleach into that coffee for me?"

I think that would kill me…

"Yes. And I'll get a chance to respawn in a new body. Preferably one that isn't going to pitch a tent at the first sign of underage women."

Ouch. They weren't underage for him, so that wasn't fair. He was a growing boy and huntresses were always like celebrities. Beautiful in an unattainable way. Being a farm boy, he'd never thought he might have a chance.

Having Ozpin in his head, he probably didn't.

"When you are eighteen, I will deign to consider the possibility."

Yeah, and you'll vet anyone I choose…

"Admittedly. Look on the bright side, you're infinitely more likely to actually be able to impress a woman thanks to my knowledge and experience."

Hey! I can talk to girls just fine.

"Oh yes, I believe it. I've seen your memories of you trying."

Oscar growled as Ozpin laughed in his head. It wasn't fair that Ozpin could read his thoughts and memories easily, while he was only beginning to get little glimpses of Ozpin's. Most of that came in distant and hazy feelings instead of memories. Rather than see an image of the past, he'd feel a distant emotion towards something.

Like the coffee. He physically hated the taste of it, but his hands would cup the mug with an almost familiar and fond motion. Similarly, when the woman behind the counter asked if he wanted Atlesian Black, he felt a rush of disgust and anger before Ozpin piped up.

"With good reason, Oscar. With good reason…"

If you say so… Oscar's eyes drifted around the little diner they'd stopped in. Even that wasn't a safe haven for him.

"Is that a Vale newspaper!? Quickly, grab it!"

Sighing, Oscar got up and collected the thing. It was a day or two old, but if it kept Ozpin distracted, that was fine. The good thing was that Ozpin could read through his eyes if he just kept them focused on the page. He didn't actually have to read the boring news himself.

"World news is not boring. And I want to find out how Beacon is doing in my absence. I don't imagine there should be any problems. Glynda and Jaune are both very good at what they do, and with the support of James they should-"

Ozpin trailed off.

Curious, Oscar looked down at the headline.

General Ironwood declares international arrest warrant for Jaune Arc. Atlas closes borders.

"Huh," Oscar said. "News is interesting."

"I'm dead for three weeks and this happens…" Ozpin groaned. "Damn it, James���"

/-/

"We need to strike now while he's distracted!"

"We all saw how that went the last time. Whatever happened to your little minions, Cinder? Oh yes, they were killed. And your attack on Beacon? How was it? Ah, I remember. A failure. A complete failure."

Cinder snarled at Watts, the motion tugging at the skin and making the scars bleed. She could hear Tyrian cackling from off to the side but could not see him because of the eye Jaune Arc had stolen from her. Her hands shook, fire swirling about her fingers as half the Fall Maiden's powers reacted to her temper.

"Calm yourself, Cinder," her mistress said. "And Watts, stop baiting her."

"Yes, my Queen."

"Yes, Salem," Cinder answered, sitting. She took a deep breath to compose herself. "I stand by my suggestion, however. Beacon is weak right now and time will only let them grow stronger."

"And what can we do?" Hazel asked, curious rather than dismissive. "We attacked in force with the White Fang beside us and were rebuffed. You killed Ozpin but were only able to gain half of the Maiden's powers. Something we did not know was possible. We don't even know if you can open the vault in Vale."

"Or where it is," Watts added, "Meaning that it's a waste either way. As for Beacon, the political pressure alone will keep them busy. It wouldn't be too hard to add to it."

"Sienna has made overtures towards Beacon," Hazel reported.

Watts frowned. "Then she will have to be dealt with."

"Cinder can direct Adam towards that," Salem said calmly. The unnaturally pale woman sat back in her chair, far more composed than any of her minions. "Make no mistake, Cinder. I am… troubled by the fact that Beacon still stands. Ozpin's death is good news, but it makes no difference if he is replaced by someone better than him." Her eyes narrowed. "You are sure of this boy? This Jaune Arc."

"He's a tactical mastermind," Cinder said. "How else could he have beaten all of us? He was outnumbered, outgunned and in the palm of my hand." Her hand clenched, as if she could crush him in it. "He played me. He played me for a fool from the start."

"Does that make him a tactical mastermind or you a colossal failure?" Watts wondered.

"I slew Ozpin. If my attack fooled the genius that is within him, then it was not reckless!"

"Cinder speaks truly," Salem said. "Ozpin is not one who trusts easily, yet this boy was able to fool both him and Cinder, and then turn aside an invasion which would have brought Vale to its knees. In doing so, he also turned one of Cinder's own agents against her." Salem's eyes narrowed. "This boy, this man, is not to be underestimated. He is a genius of the highest calibre and you will treat him as such."

"We're going to kill him then," Cinder said, trying to hide the pleasure in her voice.

"Perhaps."

"W-What?" Cinder roared.

Salem raised an eyebrow.

Cinder slumped down. "I-I am sorry, my Queen, I…"

"You are angry and emotional." Salem's eyes closed softly. "I will let it go this once."

"Thank you." Cinder bowed her head in clear subservience. "I will not let me anger get the better of me again. If I may ask… what reason would there be not to deal with him now? He is a clear threat to both us and our aims. His very existence makes Vale stronger than it has any right to be."

"That is the reason I am considering a cautious approach, my dear. In war, not every battle must be won. Unlike Ozpin, this Jaune Arc is not eternal. I may simply choose to save resources and wait for time to take care of the issue."

Cinder, Watts, Tyrian and Hazel all swallowed nervously. While it was certainly an option for Salem, it wasn't for them. Jaune Arc was younger than some of them by ten or twenty years. If Salem decided to wait, then it would be until after their lifetime. Cinder could feel the promise of power slipping away.

"S-Surely we can change your mind," she said.

"Yes," Watts agreed, for once coming to her aid now that his own ambitions were on the line. "As you said, my Queen, not every battle must be won in full. Though we failed at Beacon, the academy has been destabilised greatly, and Ozpin scattered to the winds. If we can reclaim him and continue to damage Beacon's attempts to regain its footing, we might yet prevail."

"Hn," Hazel agreed with a grunt.

Tyrian remained silent, though he was stabbing his steak with a knife, taking out his own rage on the innocent piece of cooked meat. None of them had taken defeat well. Individually, it might have been a source of mockery for one another, but here, with Salem suggesting a wait until the next generation, the four of them had become united.

"Hmmm." Salem regarded them. "Very well. If you are all willing to work together on the matter, I shall allow it. No more games, however. No more arguing amongst yourselves. Use whatever tools you have at your disposal to deal with this Jaune Arc once and for all. Kill the one who holds the other half of the maiden's powers, bring Beacon to its knees and I will continue with our plans in this generation. Fail me," she warned, "And I shall content myself to sit back and wait for this mastermind, this threat, to fade into memory."

Cinder swallowed and bowed low. "Yes, my Queen. I, we," she added with a look to the others. They all, even Tyrian, nodded back. "We will not fail you this time. Jaune Arc, and Beacon, will fall."

/-/

Approval for Roman's mercenary advertising; Signed.

Approval for structural integrity tests on battleship; Signed.

Approval for credit towards builders for the repair jobs; Signed.

It was ridiculous how much of this had to be signed even though he, and the ones submitting it, knew it was important work that had to be done, his approval or not. Glynda and Roman knew the builders were necessary and should have just paid them, but red tape held them back. They weren't allowed to sanction large expenditure without his signature.

On Roman's account, that was probably a good thing.

Invitation to attend a council meeting via video call?

"Huh. I wondered how they'd find a way around that." Annoyingly, it meant his handy excuse not to attend had worn dry. Damn. He'd have to attend this one since they'd bent over backwards to make it happen, and he didn't need Glynda to tell him he couldn't fob the Council off forever. "Ugh, what a pain."

They were going to ask how repairs were going, he just knew it.

But… they held the funding for Vale and all the tax money. Money that could really do a lot of good thrown in their direction. They were also the ones who ran Vale, and Beacon had enough political problems without pissing them off.

He wished he could send Glynda in his place. She was better than him in every regard, and yet sending an underling would be an insult, despite that it should have been the highest compliment for Beacon to send Glynda – fixes everything – Goodwitch to meet with them.

He was the insult.

Damn it all.

"Sir…?"

"Huh? Blake?" Shaking his head, Jaune looked up to his assistant, who really deserved to be paid for her work. Not that they had any money to pay her with. Most of the construction crews were being paid on credit, with Beacon basically pretending it had the money to cover the costs of a 60-day grace period.

More of Roman's creative accounting. Beacon had such a good reputation, and credit rating, that people didn't even bother to wonder if they had the money or not. Two months credit before payment? Yeah, sure. What's the worst that can happen?

"Sorry," he said, "What's up? And you can call me Jaune when we're in a counselling session."

"Counselling, yes, sure." Blake rolled her eyes. "I finished the paperwork you wanted me to go over, but they all need your signature." Blake laid several dossiers down, all with the bottom sticking out where the signature was necessary, so that he could just sign them all in one go.

"Thanks, Blake. You're a lifesaver."

He checked the first one and saw that Blake had filled it in perfectly. Beacon was her home as much as anyone else's, and she took her work – or punishment – seriously. It was an insurance form Roman wanted finishing so that Beacon could pay no tax this year due to catastrophic circumstances.

The irony was that despite Beacon's attack being all over the news everywhere on Remnant, the insurance companies were still trying to wriggle out of having to pay up. In their defence, Beacon had claimed for a lot more than it had ever had, thanks to Roman obviously, but, eh, it was for a good cause.

"Looks good." He signed the bottom.

"The next is an injuries report of students," Blake said, yawning. It was gone ten and they were both exhausted. "Nothing too bad, thankfully, but it's mostly assurances that Beacon will take them back once they're better and cover their hospital fees."

"Of course, of course." He signed both forms on it. "They were injured in the defence of Beacon. We'll not forget that." Yawning himself, he turned to the next one and groaned. "I guess we do need more security, but this new system seems so expensive…"

"It's not the school needing it," Blake explained, "More the insurance companies refusing to re-insure us unless we have the best security lien can buy. If we don't have insurance, we technically can't run a school."

"Right." Signed and signed.

Blake opened her mouth to explain the last one, but Jaune didn't pay attention. He ran through them, signing wherever he could. Between Sienna, Glynda, the council and Yang stalking him throughout the day, his focus was shot.

He just wanted to go to bed.

"Signed, signed and signed," he said, dotting the last one and yawning again.

"I'll take them," Blake said quickly, collecting all the documents before he could even touch them. "I'll see them taken to the right people, or posted out," she promised, smiling. "You can count on me, sir."

"Huh. Okay." It was unlike her to be so helpful, but he wasn't going to complain. "Then thanks. Take the rest of the night off I guess."

"Thank you, sir!" Blake bowed and hurried out, all the paperwork clutched to her chest.

/-/

Blake practically skipped out of the battleship – and literally did in one case, nearly tripping over a gun locker that was now on the floor of all places. Without guns obviously, but still with all the latches and pegs sticking up precariously.

She didn't even care when she dropped the hated paperwork.

In fact, she laughed.

There, among the signed forms, down at the bottom, was the one from Jacques Schnee of the SDC, stamped and marked with the snowflake emblem. On it, a well-written response in black pen.

-/-

Dear Jacques Schnee,

We would be honoured to attend this dinner in support of Beacon. Please find listed below the guests as listed:

Jaune Arc

Glynda Goodwitch

Roman Torchwick

Ruby Rose (Team RWBY)

Blake Belladonna (Team RWBY)

Yang Xiao-Long (Team RWBY)

Yours sincerely,

Jaune Arc

Headmaster

Beacon Academy

-/-

And below that, the ever-important signature. The headmaster had been so distracted after a long day's work and an even longer night's paperwork that he hadn't thought to check what he was signing, just as Blake knew he often didn't.

Once the letter was sent and the invitations from the SDC came back, the teachers wouldn't be able to stop them from coming. Mission complete, Blake whistled her way to the school's admin office, ready to post off the various forms.

Blake, you sneaky cat. You will be punished for this. The paperwork shall be immense.

Anyway, last chapter people were asking for omakes, and the truth is that I meant to write one, but just forgot! In the spirit of Professor Arc, the omakes shall return.

Omake: Coeur al'Aran

Weiss looked up as the door opened, a barb on the tip of her tongue and a lashing ready for whichever fool now thought it safe to intrude on her domain. If it were Winter or Ironwood again, she had a particularly vile set of insults ready.

To her relief, it was neither.

"Hello friend Weiss!" Penny said, closing the door behind her. "I hope I am welcome."

"Of course you are, Penny. Honestly, I'm glad to have someone to talk to." And never let it be said Weiss didn't see the irony there, considering her first reaction to the overly excitable girl. In Atlas, however, Penny was quite easily the only person on her side.

"There's no need for the frown, friend Weiss. I come bearing good news!" Penny looked around suddenly to make sure no one was watching. "I have made contact with the flower garden."

It took Weiss a good fifteen seconds to translate that.

"Ruby?"

"Flow garden sends its regards."

"Penny, we're alone. Code names are not only not required, but more suspicious than using names…"

"The Bumblebee also says hello."

"Okay, that one was less obnoxious, but only just." Despite herself, Weiss couldn't help but smile. "Did they… Were you able to smuggle anything in?"

"I was!" Penny said, full of pride. "My last three attempts met with failure due to the screening process." The girl slumped, disappointed with herself.

"It's okay, Penny. You tried your best. It's Ironwood who makes people look through any communique sent to me." She spat the name and shook her head. "But you said you managed to smuggle it past the censors? How?"

"By learning from the masters of smuggling; other humans!"

"I… don't understand."

"I watched a documentary on how people smuggle illicit contraband across the border."

"Oh. That makes sense." Learn from the masters indeed. "I can't say I'm an expert, but if they can get past security forces the world over, they can get past Atlas Academy's. Can I have whatever it was?"

"Yes."

Penny turned around and leaned forward.

Weiss waited.

Nothing.

"Um. Penny…?"

"I am waiting for you to take the contraband, friend Weiss."

"You… are…?" Weiss tilted her head to the side. "I think I need some context…"

"I understand, friend Weiss. One of the most common methods of smuggling contraband into other Kingdoms proved to be not upon, but within their person. The smugglers would keep the contraband in a sealed container and then insert it into themselves to be removed later."

Something about Penny's position, bent over in front of her, clicked.

"You can't mean…"

Reaching back, Penny pulled her trousers down. "Please remove the goods from my anal cavity."

Weiss had never backflipped over a chair faster. Hiding behind it, her face burned bright red and she pressed her forehead against the cool material. "PENNY!"

"What is it, friend Weiss?" With no regard for the fact she had pulled down her pants in front of her, Penny looked back. "Do not worry. The goods are perfectly safe. I simply need your help in removing them. Insertion has proven easier than withdrawal."

"T-I… Is that so…?"

"Yes. I was able to get them inside rather easily, but my hands do not fit inside quite so easily."

Weiss let out a desperate and pained sound. This… It was too much. And yet Penny had already done this, and she did need whatever it was, and she couldn't exactly just leave it inside of Penny like that. Plus, it was a way past the censors.

Mind breaking, Weiss dared to look up.

And see a mechanical compartment open where Penny's behind should have been, revealing a neat and metallic square box with a white envelope plainly leaning on the bottom half. Weiss all but collapsed in relief.

"Penny, when you said anal cavity…"

"Yes? My subdermal compartment functions as a cavity in the anal region. Was this not the correct term?"

"I… It's…" Weiss sighed and came forward, kneeling down and reaching inside. "Never mind. I'll explain in a moment."

The door opened.

"Weiss, I think we need to taaaaaaaallllkkkk…." Winter Schnee trailed off, eyes wide as she watched the scene of her little sister kneeling behind a girl who was bent over, her trousers down.

Penny looked up with a happy smile. "Hello Specialist Winter."

Weiss looked down to her arm, to Penny's backside, to the compartment, and then to where Winter stood, unable to see both the compartment and the contents, but with a marvellous view of what must have looked like her sister burying her arm in another woman up to her elbow.

"Wait, Winter! It's not what it looks like!"

Slowly, Winter backed away. "I can see that you're busy," she said, voice strained. "I�� I shall come and talk to you later."

The door clicked shut.

"I think that went well!" Penny declared.

Weiss could only weep.