Both my other RWBY stories in Remnant have Jaune entering Beacon... but what if he didn't? This has been ispired by Service with a Smile by Coeur Al'Aran, that is a very remarkable story indeed. I can't wait for it to continue, and in the meantime... I write!

Respectable Mr Arc,

In response to Your application to the Huntsmen Academy of Beacon, in Vale, we are sorry to inform You that Your transcripts have been judged insufficient for attending our Academy. Thereafter we regret to inform You that Your application has been rejected, and that unfortunately You won't be attending our school this year, although we fervently hope to hear from You again next year.

We wish You our best regards,

Professor Glynda Goodwitch.

The letter had been left in his pocket since the moment he'd first read it aloud to his sister, and thus almost an hour before. Rejected... not that he had gotten his hopes too high. He would've been more surprised to have been accepted into Beacon with his current combat training... that was honestly nil. He was good at brawls with other civilians thanks to his troublesome older sisters, who had always dragged him along to pubs and similar only for him to have to fight on their side against some guys, and he had had a very basic training for sword and shield, but Huntsmen needed to be just exceptional at combat.

He sighed and dropped his head on the table. Who was he kidding? It was clear as day he was upset by the rejection, although the fact it was expected was also true. Strangely, he wasn't angry. Professor Goodwitch was just doing her job, and the Headmaster was, too. They hadn't done it out of malice or just to spite him. They didn't even know him. They'd given him the same respect they had given to every other applier, and it just so happened he wasn't good enough. He was sad, and partly angry at himself for even trying attending an Academy, something he knew he couldn't do. And now Crocea Mors hung uselessly from his hip, and the family armour Crocea Vitae -his father had agreed for him to take it all, and not just the chestplate- he was wearing weighed him down even more than usual.

He had told his twin sister Joan, with who he had been sharing an apartment for the last few months, as soon as the letter had arrived. They had opened it together... although the result had been less surprising and more saddening than they'd expected. His sister had insisted for him to distract himself from moping around, and she had pushed him into a club they knew and were familiar with. Her boyfriend had tried to complain for being left alone by her on a date night, but Joan had simply told him that brothers came before boyfriends. When he had tried to reply, she had abruptly broken up with him on the phone, in a brutal and efficient manner she had been taught by the eldest Arc sister. Jaune had felt guilty for forcing his sister to break up with her boyfriend, but deep inside he was happy: that guy had always been a little too much for him to bear. Too forward with his sister, too cocky, too smartass... Fortunately now it was over.

Except it was over because he had a problem. Joan had always told him that the best to do when you want to drown your sorrows in alcohol was to go into a pub, order something non-alcoholic and make conversation. Drunks had the time to get drunk because they didn't speak much before getting drunk, but after. And so there they were, at Junior's, drinking one of the best sodas in Vale and in the worst mood for it, too. Joan had opted for something simple, but she had also decided for a friendly company.

"How're you faring, kid?", asked Junior as he cleaned one of the glasses on the counter. "I knew how much you wanted to enter Beacon... I'm sorry they are too dickheads to realize your potential".

"It's fine, Junior, I'm just a bit down right now", he shrugged, taking a sip from his soda. Junior had adamantly refused to let them pay for it, saying that if it could help him, then it was well spent. "Besides, you don't have to lie. I know what they wrote it's true: I'm not qualified to be a Huntsman".

"Not right now, Jaune, but maybe you'll be in the future", replied Miltia, frowning. "Or you could just leave it be. After all, you're far too nice to be a Huntsman. I bet you'd have your conscience stop you killing a Beowolf just because it looks pathetic when you're going to kill it".

Jaune arched an eyebrow. "Wow, that's a lot of trust", he remarked dryly. "Thanks Miltia".

"It's just about right, though", she continued. "Not because of conscience, but I think you would have problems against a Beowolf... I think".

"Really, guys, it's not such a big deal", he snorted. "I'm just a bit down today. It'll get better... eventually".

"Hey, kid, if you ever need help or advice, just come here", offered Junior, putting down the glass he was cleaning and picking up another one. "And remember that I still have that job ready for you, if you want it".

"Thank you Junior, but becoming a lap dancer isn't exactly how I envisioned my future", he laughed heartily. "Besides, I think my parents might murder the five of us if they were to hear what you just said".

Junior's face went a little paler than usual. "Oh dear", was all he said.

Joan laughed aloud at his sudden nervousness and punched him on the arm. "Don't worry, Big J, we're not gonna say a word to our parents about this. As far as they know, Jaune just got rejected. Nothing more". Her mirth tuned down. "Although that's not something little to deal with...".

"Joan, don't worry, people fail all the time. On my first try, was I expected to be the best Huntsman ever? Hell, I didn't even expect the Headmaster to actually read my transcripts". He laughed, and it wasn't as hollow as he thought it sounded. "Come on, Joan. Junior, if you may set on the music, I'd like to dance a bit".

Everyone smiled at that. Well, actually Joan smiled, because she knew how good at dancing her brother was. Junior, Melanie and Miltia grinned as wide as they could, because they knew Jaune's skills would only get them more tips and more orders all thorough the evening. Especially because when Jaune decided to dance, it was usually impossible to get him to stop before a good hour or two, and once Junior had seen him wear out five partners in a row before stopping for a break. Inwardly, he sighed: the boy was incredible, really, and his skillset was unbelievably vast, but he just wasn't cut out to be a Huntsman. Or at least his skills weren't the right ones to be a Hunstman.

Jaune stood up and finished his soda with a last sip, too fast for him to choke on it, before offering a hand to Joan. "It's been a while since last time, sis. Are you still good in the dancing field, or has your journalist-ness taken that away?".

"I'm still good", she replied, and then shrugged when Junior raised an eyebrow. "Not as good as Jaune, but I'm good".

"Hard to beat him when you work all day", nodded Melanie, and then seemed to perk up a little. "Wait, speaking of dancing... weren't you going on a date night with Victor, today?".

"Broke up with him", she responded nonchalantly. "He tried to put himself between two Arcs, and he found out he wasn't strong enough".

Junior winced at the thought. "Did you beat him up?".

"I had more important things to do. I broke up on the phone", she replied with a light huff. "Let's see if I can hold my own on the dance floor. Shall we?".

Jaune offered her a crooked smile and nodded.

The two of them danced for a good while together before parting and searching for companions. Like usual, Jaune danced with Melanie and Miltia, at the same time of course, a feat he'd practised during the months he had been frequenting the pub. Joan preferred to dance with some of Junior's employees, a couple of which were even good at dancing, before offering Junior a dance. Leaving the counter to one of his men, the man accepted with an amused smirk. After Melanie, Miltia and Junior had left the two Arcs alone, they returned to dance with each other until they stopped, almost at midnight. They had been dancing for two hours straight.

"Jaune, are you alright?".

"I am, why?".

"Because it took you an hour more than usual to stop dancing", she replied with worry. "Either you were thinking, or you were musing over your rejection. Do you want us to go home?".

"I think it would be better, since you have work tomorrow, and I...", he hesitated, before steeling himself and nodding to no one. "Yeah, I can do this. I have something to do tomorrow, too, so please let's go home".

Joan frowned at him, but she let him be. He had never pried too much -keywords being too much- in her personal business, and she had returned the action with just as fervour. They could keep secrets from each other safely and comfortably... although since they were twins, their secrets rarely lasted more than a couple of days.

Just as they exited the pub, Jaune stopped and seemed to think about something before calling out. "Junior, could I borrow your motorbike, in a couple of weeks? I'll let you know the date, if you can".

"Usual price?".

"Usual price".

"Let me know".

#####

As he guided the motorbike through Beacon's courtyard, he felt somewhat awkward. He had his armour and weapons on, so he looked like a regular Hunstman or student of Beacon, but his seemingly chivalrous appearance was completely shattered by the black and white badass motorbike he was driving. Idly, he took a note to never again use Junior's bike to reach Beacon. He had done it so to avoid taking a dreaded Bullhead, but now he was stuck with a very badass motorbike and zero badassery himself, and that was almost worse than motion sickness.

He left it in one of the parking lots outside the courtyard, and awkwardly walked inside, his eyes darting around and widening in panic. He had chosen the day of the student's arrival to "blend in" and pass unnoticed, but he sure as Hell wasn't exactly comfortable with pretending to be what he had failed to become. His guts stirred in a tiny pang of sadness, but he squashed it and waited for the landing of the Bullhead, sitting on one of the many benches disseminated through the entire school grounds. The airborn monster was quickly and efficiently docking, and the mere sight of it made his stomach flip in disgust. When he was aboard, it was sickness. When he was on the ground... it was disgust for the deathtraps those planes were.

The doors of the passenger area opened and immediately a huge mass of Huntsmen-and-Huntresses-to-be flowed out of the plane into the courtyard. He fought back a grimace. Had he been a little better, he would've been with them, and even his hatred for Bullheads was nothing if compared to his desire to attend Beacon. As they walked past him, he stood up and began wandering towards the atrium, or wherever they were heading to. Before he could go too far, he heard an explosion resounding right behind him. Unsure of what to do, he turned and saw a girl in red standing with an apologetic expression in front of a girl in grey... no wait, a girl in white covered in ashes and smoking slightly.

He cocked an eyebrow at their bickering, and his eyebrow went even further up his forehead when he noticed the small crater at the girl-in-white feet. When a girl in black stepped in, only to anger White more, a grin slowly made his way to his face. It was better than at theatre, and free of costs. After Black evidently said something offensive towards White, White turned and stormed off, chin up and outrage written all over her face. Red called after her, but when she didn't respond, she sighed and turned to Black to try and speak to her, only to find out that Black had sauntered off as well, leaving her alone in the courtyard. With a defeated sigh, Red slumped and let herself fall on the ground, muttering something terribly similar to a sarcastic "Welcome to Beacon".

Jaune felt pity for the poor girl. She hadn't done anything to be so down. Also, he had the creepy sensation that he would've messed up much worse, had he been admitted into Beacon in the first place. Fighting down a grimace at the thought, he walked up to the girl.

"Hi. I'm Jaune", he said. Inwardly, he cringed at how tired and awkward he had sounded. He had to control his rejection better.

"I'm Ruby", she said with a little, awkward laugh, as she accepted the hand he was offering her and got up. "I... don't think I saw you on the ship. Were you on the Bullhead?".

'Lielielielielie', his brain said. His mouth disagreed, though. "No, I wasn't. I have motion sickness, so those are kind of deathtraps for me".

"Oh. So...", she looked around, trying to see a bus or something. "How did you get here?".

"I borrowed a motorbike from a friend of mine", he shrugged. "Shouldn't you get going? You should be at the atrium soon".

'Strange', she thought. 'He's nice, but it's almost like he's trying to get rid of me'.

"I have no idea of where to go", she lied shamelessly.

"Fortunately, all the other students here do", he replied, and she was caught. "Let's just follow the stream".

She nodded as she walked beside him. "So... why did you help me up?", she asked.

"You looked down. The same friend who lent me the bike is always there for me when I'm down. It's actually how I met him in the first place". He shrugged. "And besides, like my mother likes to say, strangers are just friends you haven't met yet".

Ruby blinked. That was a very good piece of advice... even if Weiss seemed to be the exception.

"So...", she shuffled on her feet, awkwardly. Then she got the right idea and pulled out Crescent Rose from her back and unfolded it into full scythe form. Jaune startled and leapt back. "I got this thing...".

"Is that a scythe?", he asked, a bit nervous at being alone in the courtyard with a girl who had just exploded, and who was wielding a scythe twice her size and at least matching in weight.

"It's also a customizable high-impact sniper rifle", she replied.

"Uhh...". She had lost him. He had caught the general meaning of what it was, and so a very precise rifle with very big bullets, but he didn't know exactly what that meant. He wasn't a weapon expert, after all.

"It's also a gun", she said as she loaded a shell, coming to his rescue. Then she cheered up and smiled. "What have you got?".

"Eh... I got the sword and the shield", he said as he patted at hand on Crocea Mors. "And I got the armour".

"Ohh... and what do they do?", she asked, her eyes bright with interest.

He frowned. "They do nothing... they're just a sword, a shield and a full plate", he replied. "My grand-grand-grandfather used them in the War... it's kind of a family heirloom. My father let me take it since I'm the first and only male among my siblings... and although I think that's kinda sexist, I can't say I would give it back".

He inwardly groaned at all his rambling, but Ruby seemed to lit up even more. "That's good... where is the atrium?". Her enthusiasm died almost immediately.

Mentally facepalming, Jaune looked around. "I don't know. I was following you".

Ruby shrugged and grabbed his wrist, sprinting towards the large building in the centre of the courtyard. Idly, he wondered where the rose petals came from, but any thought apart from holding on for dear life were banished as he realized that Ruby was probably running faster than a car. His eyes widened for a second before he was slammed into the crimsonette thanks to her stopping dead in her tracks. They both crashed to the ground, but Jaune managed to avoid falling on her. While she might've had Aura, it was also true that he was a healthy seventeen-year-old boy wearing full armour. Also, he had to save his backpack. If his plan was to work, he would have needed it later.

Eventually, he managed to lose her when they entered the atrium and a tall blonde called her. Sighing half in relief, half in regret of having to see her go, he began to move towards one of the walls or a corner, like a tall redhead had already done in the left corner, but then told himself that to pass unnoticed by the students, he had to act like a normal student. Luckily, there was no rule in Beacon banning the civilians from its grounds, and he had been allowed to walk around freely as long as he didn't disturb in class nor bother the students.

He listened only with a tenth of his mind to Ozpin's speech, and focused on the man. Studied him like a predator studied its prey. He seemed to like coffee, from what he could tell by the mug in his hands. Good. He also looked really authoritarian, and he didn't miss the intelligence in the back of his eyes. That was a man he should never challenge, combat or discussion, unless he wanted to receive the defeat of the millennium. After him came a young-looking woman with a very stern expression and a severe voice. He took a couple of mental notes on her, too.

As the students waved towards the ballroom, he separated from the main stream and walked straight past the ones hanging in the back, recognizing Black from the courtyard and the redhead from earlier in the atrium. They both looked at him with a slight frown, clearly puzzled as to why was he heading away. He responded with a nod and headed off, in the corridors, trying to remember the right way to the Headmaster's office. Eventually, he managed to get it right, and he found himself face-to-door with a very bland-looking elevator. He had read somewhere that the Headmaster's office was in the Tower, so he just shrugged and entered the elevator.

As it took him up to the office, Jaune idly wondered if he should've asked for an appointment, and quickly decided against it. Ozpin didn't have a secretary, so it meant he didn't want to have people asking for appointments. That meant he himself couldn't be blamed for not having an appointment. The Headmaster should've thought that people could have wanted to meet him, and meeting him by chance in the school, although common, wasn't enough for Jaune. As the doors of the elevator opened before him, he found himself in a large, spacious room with a beautiful view over Beacon. There was a large desk in the middle of the room, and a man was sitting behind it, his back to the window, regarding Jaune with a mildly amused and mildly surprised expression.

"Headmaster Ozpin", he said politely, bowing his head and stepping in the room. "I'd like a word with you".

"What's your name, young man?", asked Ozpin, frowning slightly. "My memory can be failing me, but I think to have seen you in the atrium today. Why aren't you with your companions? Glynda should be doing a tour of the school, right now".

"Although I may be dressed as a student, I'm not, sir", replied Jaune, making his frown increase. "I'm a civilian, as you would say. And I'd like a word".

"Who are you?".

"My name is Jaune Arc". He sighed as the Headmaster showed a tiniest hint of surprise. He probably remembered the letter. It hadn't been so long before, after all. "Yes, I applied to Beacon and I was rejected".

"I see", hummed Ozpin, his frown never leaving his face. "Do you... hold a grudge against me?".

"I guess I'd want to, but I can't blame you for doing your job right. Even back when I sent the application, I knew my chances were more than slim. They were barely existing. My training is next to zero and I probably wouldn't have survived a month in this school". His voice held no anger nor judgement, but inside the familiar sadness was making itself known again. "I guess I should even thank you for avoiding me to die in such as stupid way".

"So you gave up?", asked Ozpin, and Jaune idly wondered how did they ended up talking about that when he wanted to talk about something else entirely. Still, he answered, even if just out of politeness.

"No, sir. I still want to be a Huntsman, and I will probably always want. But since this chance has failed, I can't just stand by and do nothing", he replied. "Besides, my second dream was to just enter Beacon, so I can say that has been fulfilled, at least. And this brings me to the matter I wanted to discuss with you".

"Fill me in, Mr Arc", said the Headmaster, who was now clearly more interested than before.

"Please, call me Jaune. I'm not a student, and if I everything goes alright, I won't be a stranger either. Spare "Mr Arc" for my father, thank you", he smiled weakly. "The reason I am here now is because, as I said, one of my dreams was to enter Beacon".

"And I guess you managed to make it come true, Mr... Jaune". He seemed to taste the word, as if to judge it better or worse than Mr Arc.

"Yes, I have. But as dreams always are, it's not enough. I want to be able to stay. And before you say anything, I don't mean as a student. I mean as an employee". Ozpin closed his mouth. That was interesting indeed. "I'm not a teacher, that much I think you guessed. But I've done some research, and I think I found something you clearly miss here at Beacon. One of the reasons for which students are always so happy to visit Vale whenever they can".

"And what would that be?", asked the Headmaster. 'He's not ready to be a Huntsman, but he has a Hell of a will. Seventeen, and ready to work. He kinda reminds me of myself'.

"I'm sorry if this displeases you, and I don't mean it to offend, but this school is boring its students to death with its choice of food and entertainment".

Ozpin's frown intensified, but not because he was angry, and not even because Jaune was wrong. It intensified because deep down, he knew he was right. "Go on".

"I've done some research, as I said, and many students here have reported Beacon's faults. One of the most common, apart from a normal share of bullism, is that the school is boring, outside its lessons. Everyone has to think of what to do by themselves, and most of the times this leads them to Vale in search of entertainment". Ozpin nodded. Sacred words... to anyone but Glynda. She had always said that a school was a school, not a playground. "You need to bring what they search in Vale here at Beacon. This will make your students relax, and your teachers too, and this will create a better atmosphere and probably better performance from both the student body and the teacher one".

Ozpin tilted his head sideways. "Jaune, I'm afraid that even though your words are nothing short of the truth, Miss Goodwitch won't allow it", he said. "She's... pretty strict and severe".

"Please, take a look at my curriculum", replied the boy, not without a hint of nervousness. 'Oh, so there is a person under all that business. And a very nervous person, too'. The thought amused the Headmaster. "It's nothing like my transcripts. And I fear I don't have much "real work" experience to back me up, but I'm ready to prove all those things to you, if I need to".

Ozpin sighed and took the Scroll he was offering him. He'd hate to turn him down again, but he doubted Glynda would let him just accept his offer, no matter how intriguing it could be.

Fairly experienced with mineralogy and crystallotherapy.

Highly proficient with a vast range of cooking, including normal cooking, desserts and exotic foods. Also a great learner, always ready to try and learn an unknown recipe, or to create a new one.

Very skilled dancer in many kind of dances, including lap dance, classic dance, breakdance, pole dance, paired dance, party dance and formal dance.

Exceptional brewer for drinks, teas or coffee.

Ozpin had stopped reading at the word "coffee", and handed the Scroll back to its owner. "A very impressive skillset, I must say, something I fear I still don't have the pleasure to have here at Beacon", he said as smoothly as water. "But as you said, you have next to nothing real work experience, so would it be a real trouble for you to prove your point to me?".

Jaune smiled. "Of course not, Headmaster".

"Then follow me", said the man, standing up and leaving both his cane and his mug in the room behind, something very few had seen him do. "We're going to the cafeteria. I'd like to test your coffee-making skills... Many students need coffee to help them through the morning haziness, and many teachers as well, to help them not to kill their students... although that's probably just one teacher".

"I understand, Professor", nodded Jaune, although he had an inkling that it wasn't the only reason for which he was being tested. "Although there are a few things I fear won't work if I work in the cafeteria".

"Which would be?", asked Ozpin, perfectly masking the alarm that had seized him.

"I'd like to work on my own, sir. My own business. That would be better for you, as you won't have to pay me as an employee", said Jaune, recalling what his mother used to say about business. She had always been the one with a head on her shoulders. His father was fine, but Jaune had the feeling that if the Arc capital were to be left to him, the Arcs would find themselves short of money in a very short time. "I'd like so to ask you if I could rent a local here at Beacon where to work and live. I'd be paying you for it, of course, and thus this would be an advantage for you... you all. You will be paid for it, and I guess you could spare some space. Am I right?".

"I'm afraid you aren't", a stern voice interrupted Ozpin before he could even speak. "Beacon is a school, not a pub or something fancy like that".

Both males turned, one with an alarmed frown and the other with a surprised look. Professor Goodwitch, now free from the students, was standing right in front of them, arms crossed and a glare on her face.

"Miss G-Goodwitch, I suppose", Jaune greeted her, his nervousness coming back twofold. "W-Would you please explain why would I be wrong?".

"This is a school, sir, not a playground. I can't have students laze around just because of some pub that has opened here in Beacon", replied Goodwitch, although her tone softened a tiny bit when she saw that the would-be owner of the pub was just a boy, no older than the ones she had just escorted to the ballroom. "I fear we wouldn't be able to have their attention if they skip classes to visit your pub".

"W-We can arrange that!", exclaimed Jaune, trying to save something. "I wouldn't have stayed open during classes just the same, because of exactly what you said, so it should be fine!".

Help came in the form of a very serious Headmaster, who put a hand on his shoulder. "Glynda, you are judging a coffee without even tasting it... that means, you're judging this young man without even knowing about his skills", he said, earning a raised eyebrow from both Jaune and Goodwitch for the metaphor. "Let him brew a coffee. You know much do we need a good coffee-maker".

Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright. One try. And I'm surely not in favour of this, but I guess I can give him at least a chance".

Inwardly, both Jaune and Ozpin grinned their asses off and cheered, but outwardly they both nodded with light smiles on their lips and an identical glint in their eyes.

"Perfect! Now, Jaune, if you would...". He didn't even have to finish the sentence, as the boy had already walked into the cafeteria, followed by the two adults, earning several confused glances and more than a glare for being a teenager in a working place. He ignored them all and politely asked for where could he make a coffee without disturbing the others. As soon as he was given a place, he smiled and unpacked his backpack. Ozpin could only watch in something terribly similar to awe as he pulled out several types of coffee for several types of brew.

"Will you trust me on this one, Professor?", Jaune asked, although the poor man could only nod in approval. He watched the boy intently, trying to memorize his movements and the types of coffee just in case Glynda managed to turn him down, but it was useless. He never had a good mind for recipes, not even for his beloved coffee. After several minutes, Jaune returned with a mug of steaming coffee and offered it to Ozpin.

"Would you like some, too, Professor Goodwitch?", he asked as the Headmaster took a sip of coffee. The woman glared at her boss and shook her head rigidly.

"No thanks, I'm more a tea type".

"Don't worry, Professor, I have teas too", replied Jaune, before turning to Ozpin, who had the widest grin ever stamped on his face. His eyes held a maniacal light that scared him slightly, but then he looked at the mug of coffee -that Ozpin was currently holding like it was a treasure- and smiled.

"Was it of your liking?", he asked politely.

The Headmaster managed to fight off his grin and nodded. Then he turned to Glynda with a most serious tone. "Glynda, I'd like a word with you. I think it will regard your future career here at Beacon", he said, his voice plain and calm.

Glynda blanched. Never to step between Ozpin and his coffee.