"What kind?"
"What kinds do you have?"
"Well, we've got fifty individual blends and beans, and that's not including the different ways I can make it. If you have a favourite brand or flavour, I can…" Jaune paused. "Um, sir…? Are you okay?"
"Don't mind me," the man wheezed. His eyes were shut, his face pointed to the side. A tear ran down his cheek. "I was simply overwhelmed by emotion for a moment."
"Okaaay…"
"Do you have Mistral Mountain-Top?"
"I do."
"Vacuo Golden Sands?"
"Some arrived this morning."
"Atlesian Black?"
Jaune paused. "I don't have that."
"Why not?"
"Well…" Jaune broke off and tried to think of a good excuse. In the end, he decided to be honest. "No offence, but it tastes awful. It's possibly the worst blend of coffee I've ever had the misfortune to taste. I'd not serve it to my worst enemies."
"Young man, I believe this is the beginning of a wonderful relationship."
"Ozpin," the woman hissed, kicking him under the table. Jaune was instantly reminded of Team RWBY. She looked to him, and managed to look just as exasperated as Weiss usually did. "Ignore him, please. I'll have a mocha."
"A treble espresso," the green-haired man asked. "And a little less water than usual, please."
Less water in a triple espresso…? Jaune nodded, but winced internally at the thought of it. That would be so strong, he felt ill just thinking about it. Well, if the guy wanted to peel the lining off his own mouth, who was he to argue?
That was what insurance was for.
"I'll take a latte, lad," the moustached man called.
"And I shall have a fifty-fifty blend of Golden Sands and Vale Red Bean. I'd also appreciate it if you could bring the milk out to me." Ozpin added. "I have rather specific requirements on it."
"You're such an embarrassment," the woman groaned.
Jaune laughed and jotted it down. In truth, he didn't think it was all that odd. He got a lot of people who really liked their coffee (as did his Mom), and everyone did it a little different. If it would make a customer happier to handle the milk themselves, then he would go along with it. Where was the harm?
"I'll be back with your orders shortly," he said.
/-/
Glynda watched the young man go. He hadn't complained about Ozpin's mannerisms, nor even looked upset to hear them. She wasn't sure if she should feel pleased at that, or upset that Ozpin would take it as encouragement. In the end, she went with the easier option, and glared at the man in question instead.
"What?" Ozpin asked innocently. "He's a barista. Would you criticise me for giving specific instructions to a barber?"
No, but there was a marked difference there, and the poor boy looked like he was running the entire place on his own. With everything else he probably had on his plate, she felt guilty throwing Ozpin's OCD's at him as well.
"I've heard nothing but good things from various students about this place," Oobleck mused, looking around. "I have to say, it's actually quite nice."
"Yes, I approve of the room especially," Ozpin said, and Glynda could only agree there. "The view is rather pleasant as well. It's peaceful here."
"It's off the main street, so it's not as busy," she pointed out. "That probably doesn't help him gather much custom, but it does mean it's blessedly quiet. No screaming children bring dragged about by their parents for a change."
Ozpin chuckled. "You know, for a woman who teacheschildren, you have surprisingly little patience for them."
"I teach children to kill things. I do not deal with toddlers."
Their conversation broke off as the waiter returned once more, balancing a tray between his hands. He set it down on the table next to theirs, then brought across the drinks individually. Glynda accepted hers with a nod of thanks and set it down.
"Is there anything else you'd like?" he asked.
"Well, I wouldn't say no to a cake," Peter said, laughing as though he'd told some particularly hilarious jest. "The problem is there are so many on the menu! How is a man to ever choose?"
Ah, and there was the other embarrassing male she had to spend her time with. Glynda buried her emotions with practised ease, which was probably for the best since she wanted to reach across the table and throttle Peter with his own moustache.
Why had teaching ever seemed like a good career move?
"What would you suggest, lad?" Peter asked. "I can't choose, so make one for me. I'll trust in your expertise."
"Huh, me?" The young man looked a little nervous. "W-Well, I could, but they're all different prices. Wouldn't it be a little unfair if I chose?"
"We'll all have some cakes between us," Ozpin said, coming to his now favourite person's rescue. "Don't worry about the cost. So long as it's not ridiculous, I'm sure it will be fine. Today is a business meeting regardless, so it's technically on expenses."
Glynda gritted her teeth and counted to twenty.
She couldn't kill Ozpin.
That would be bad.
The waiter nodded and left to fulfil the strange order, and Glynda comforted herself in the thought that he'd at least make some good lien off of them. Even so, she rolled her eyes at Ozpin. "We're here to work? Really… that's the first I'd heard."
"It's close enough, Glynda," he chuckled. "Though I didn't mention it before, I thought we might discuss the upcoming field trip to Forever Fall."
"Is there something wrong with it?" Glynda's eyes narrowed. "I've taken all the necessary precautions and arranged everything as best I'm able. If there is a problem, I'd like you to say it."
"No, no – there's nothing wrong. There's no need to get defensive-"
"I'm not defensive."
"I simply meant to discuss the students," Ozpin said, dodging the dangerous topic with easy grace. "It's not the trip itself that concerns me, but several of our teams have shown… less than stellar teamwork thus far. I'm simply concerned they might be problematic for you on the trip."
The mood at the table dropped quickly, and she let out a long sigh as she realised what he meant. While some teams had gotten on famously, Team RWBY being an example, others were struggling to the point of infighting, and that was never a good thing.
"I've never questioned your methods of assigning teams before," Glynda said. "But it really hasn't worked out well this time, Ozpin."
Oobleck tapped his chin. "And come to think of it, we really should have questioned your methods before. Eye-contact is not exactly a full proof means to good relations."
"Well, it's easy for you all to condemn me now, isn't it?" the headmaster groused. It looked like he might argue more, but he sipped his drink and all the tension melted from his face. "But maybe you're right. We'll have to think more on it next year."
Glynda stared at him like he'd grown another head. No argument? That was odd, especially from Ozpin. She sipped her own mocha, and breathed a sigh of relief at the rich, chocolaty taste. So bad for her, so unhealthy, yet so sinfully sweet… chocolate was for children, but coffee was for refined adults, so this always felt like a concession she could make.
"Team Crimson could stand to work together a little more," Oobleck said. "Why, just the other day, Mr Winchester expressed the most disgusting views in class."
"Racism?" Ozpin guessed. "His father fought in the faunus wars and never did let that go…"