A/N: And here we have chapter 6 / Epilogue!

Thank a bunch to everyone who Favorited/followed/commented on how I did. It really means a lot, and I hope this short story was entertaining, in its own way. As I said previously, its not perfect - far from it - but it remains one of my favorite short stories.

Please enjoy the final chapter, which is also the Epilogue.

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The Odd Couple

Part 6 / Epilogue

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Though I wouldn't tell her until much later, I first saw Weiss Schnee when I was fifteen years old.

I had gotten started in film when I was twelve years old. Scouted by a friend of my sister's, they told me that they needed someone to fill in for their usual star who had called in sick, and I fit the basic look and age they wanted. It was, in retrospect, a simple job; a small commercial promoting a relatively famous milk product, there wasn't much opportunity to mess up. It was also the one and only time I would ever be on television… so I admit I may have hammed it up a little.

I grinned like a loon, chattering away like the pre-teen I was, and practically vibrated with energy during the whole shoot. It was a wonder I even was able to remember the lines, short though they were. Yang, who was watching the whole thing from offset, just held her face in her hands, shaking her head in exasperation the whole time. When it was all over I was thanked for my time and assistance by the cast and crew.

I never expected to be contacted again for another commercial.

And then another. And another.

Soon, sooner than I ever would have imagined, I was a star. I was popular; at school, on television and magazines, and boy-oh-boy was I busy. I barely had time to do my homework and see my friends with how often I was contracted for shoots and exclusives. My parents were very supportive, of course, as was Yang. As the person who effectively got me my start into television, it was the least she could do to be helpful and stick by me as my school friends slowly started trickling away as I became busier and busier.

As I did more contracts and learned more, I only seemed to bet better. Ever since I was a girl I had a knack for facial expressions, and it only seemed to bleed into my acting. When the scene called for happy and giddy, I was there. When a more somber, serious approach was necessary, I was on point. When I needed tears, or a quick peel of laughter or a sneer and condescending quip, I never missed a mark.

They called me the Girl with One-Thousand Faces, and it was fitting considering how many expressions I filtered through on a regular basis. Even in my daily life; at home, out with Yang, or in school, I would change my expressions on the fly, just because I could.

Practice, you know?

Even with how busy I was, with school, with different television, movie and magazine contracts, I still had my interests that kept me busy. I liked reading, playing video games, writing small stories on occasion… I had many things to keep me occupied in my infrequent free time. However, it was the theater that drew me most often.

I never really got a chance to participate in theater, unfortunately, what with my early start behind the silver screen. But I had always had a keen interest in stage. Musicals, plays, comedies, dramas… live theater. It was all so artistic in ways that television could never quite reach. Movies and TV was artistic too, don't get me wrong. It was just different. There was just something about the feeling of going to a live show, one that the actors and actresses spent weeks, sometimes months, preparing for, only to perform a handful of times, and then tear it all down and start preparing for the next show.

It was almost hypnotic, how theater worked.

I never really had a preference of what theater I would frequent. Professional plays, university productions, even the local high school shows I would see – as long as I had the time to, of course. Not only that, but I had always been a fan of the international productions, as opposed to the local ones. That's not to say the traditional shows weren't as good as, say, the ones written by Shakespeare or Arthur Miller or Franklin Lacey. They had their own charm that famous writers didn't have. But for some reason I took a liking to the messages, bawdy humor and tones of 'Footloose' much more than something smaller and traditional.

So I would often keep my ear to the ground for any and all international plays going on and, if time permitted, I would join the audience for an evening. In disguise, of course.

I was fifteen when I first saw Weiss perform on stage.

I had heard about a local high school production on a classical comedy, 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. It was translated and altered slightly for the local community, but more or less held the original's themes and humor when it was first written by William Shakespeare. I had seen it a year before, of course, when my family took me to see a professional production of the classic, but as I had enjoyed the first time I wanted to see if a group of high school students could do it justice.

I can still remember, to this day, sitting on the left side of the House and watching as Weiss strutted on stage as Hermia, and her indignant expression as both Lysander and Demetrius fall in love with Helena due to her short stature as opposed to Helena's height. It wasn't Weiss' looks, or her costume that drew my eye - her uncommonly snow-white hair notwithstanding. It was how she carried herself. It was how she stood up against the other actress and actresses playing fairies, gods and nymphs. It was how she spoke – her tone and the lilt in her voice as she matched the mood of the play. Her sheer focus on the words, the dialogue and the banter. With anyone else, I would have scoffed and been reminded of the many actors and actresses that found my particular… style… of performing off putting.

But with Weiss, and how my entire attention fell on her whenever she exploded on stage, I was simply enchanted. I had never seen anything like it.

After the play ended, it took nearly all of my willpower to keep from approaching the girl as she accepted congratulations and friendly words with the audience in the lobby of the theater. I desperately wanted to introduce myself, and tell her how impressed I was with her; her performance, her interpretation of the character, and how she carried herself on stage. But that would be breaking my number one rule that I set for myself upon attending these shows.

I could never reveal who I really was. Modesty aside, I was popular, and more often than not people easily recognized me on the street. If I were to show myself without a hat or glasses, then I would more than likely upstage the performers who had worked so hard on putting on their show.

So I just settled for watching the girl for a few minutes as she accepted her congratulations with a polite smile, and I left, snatching a program on the way out. After I got home I examined the little two-page pamphlet for the girl playing Hermia.

Hermia – Weiss Schnee.

I felt my lips curl into a smile as I read the name. It was then that I resolved to do everything I could to find out more about this girl.

Unfortunately, I could find out very little. I knew what school she went to, and that she was sixteen years old and part of the drama club. Aside from that, she was simply a regular sixteen year old girl, and I couldn't really find out anything else. It wasn't as though she was everywhere online or in magazines, like I was. The only thing I knew was that she would likely participate in the next play from that high school. So, if I wanted to see her again, the best way would be to go see the next one.

And, smiling widely, I resolved to do just that.

As luck would have it, Weiss' school's next production was a musical; The Sound of Music. A simple, albeit traditional musical by Rogers and Hammerstein that many countries fielded, most famous for coining the song "Do-Re-Mi". I had actually been a part of a movie adaption a while ago, so I was more than familiar with it and bought my ticket with a happy grin.

Weiss was, slightly surprising, cast as the very same character I had been – Louisa Von Trapp. It was a simple enough roll, and didn't call for much in the way of standing out. But as Weiss took to the stage at the Boatswain's call, dressed in her uniform and her chin held high, I inwardly swooned. As she sang along with Maria Rainer about the sounds that made up Music, I could feel her energy and her determination to be the best Louisa she could be, to live up to all the other Louisas before her, and even better, if possible.

It was even better than her Hermia.

Again, after the show, I waffled around for a while, as if weighing the pros and cons of introducing myself to her. As I watched her audience crowd around her, I felt my shoulders deflate a little. As much as I wanted to speak to the girl that had me so enthralled while on stage, I knew it just wasn't a good idea. So, instead, I simply took another program to add to my slowly growing collection, and went home.

It went on in this fashion for a while. Weiss' high school would take a few months to prepare for a new play or musical, and then I would slip into the audience once opening night came. I would, once again, watch Weiss as she commanded the stage, weaving her own style and flair to each role she took on, all the while complementing her co-actors and actresses perfectly. It was everything I hoped an actress would be, and admired her more and more with each performance I saw.

And each time, I would flounder around the lobby, waiting for the perfect time to shed my glasses and hat, and tell her how I felt about her; her skills, the way she walked, the way she talked, and the way she just was.

After a particularly dramatic rendition of Arthur Miller's 'The Crucible', in which Weiss played an exceedingly vicious Abigail Williams, I stood just on the outskirts of her throng of audience members, watching as she accepted well wishes and congratulations with grace and politeness. I watched as her face shifted from person to person, her lips curling into pleased smiles. I watched as her eyes widened and narrowed as comments were made, and I watched how the skin around her eyes crinkled as she laughed shortly, and her hands worked in front of her as she described parts of the play to the others.

It was then that I realized I had a crush on her.

My eyes widened so much that I'm surprised they didn't fall out of my face. My glasses slid down my nose and off my head, clattering soundlessly on the carpet of the lobby. I could feel things – odd, new things, sliding around in my head as if I'm suddenly understanding things for the first time.

Holy. Shit.

I had a crush… on a girl. I liked Weiss. Like that. Like that-that.

Shaking like a leaf, I bent down to retrieve my glasses and left, barely remembering to grab my program on the way out.

I missed Weiss' next play, four months later.

I graduated early when I was seventeen, and after I finished shooting my most recent movie I received an offer from my agent for a new slew of contracts overseas. It seemed as though agencies abroad caught wind of my films and series' and wanted to use me as well. It should have been exciting, and I would have accepted right away.

If it wasn't for Weiss.

I was being tremendously stupid. I knew that. I was letting my feelings – my one-sided feelings – for a girl I had never even talked to before keep me from making the most important professional decision of my life. My parents told me whatever I did, they would be behind. They were happy as long as I was. But they didn't know about Weiss.

Yang knew, of course. She knew I had been frequenting every single one of a certain high school's plays every time they were staged, and she could deduce why. She was clever like that, though she would never criticize me for any of my decisions. She did, on the other hand, sympathize with me on my dilemma, however. As I cried on her shoulder about how conflicted and how stupid I was, she simply patted my shoulder, murmuring in my ear in her usual commiserating tone that only Yang did so well.

After a lot of ice cream and bad television – I wasn't starring in anything we watched, naturally – she sat me down and stared long and hard at me. She stared at me until I shifted, uncomfortably, under her steady gaze and finally broke down.

"I know, Yang!" I cried out, my face in my hands as if she couldn't see my cry, it wasn't happening. "I know I'm an idiot, and stupid, and completely overthinking this! I was offered the opportunity of a lifetime, and I'm risking it all by letting my weird feelings take over and I just don't know what to do!"

It there was one thing Yang was, cruel was not it. It shouldn't have surprised me that the was not bothered by my feelings for a girl - she had a steady girlfriend herself, after all. She simply took me in her arms, like she always did, and held me until I finished letting all my worries, my fears and my insecurities known to her. When I finally drew a long, shuddering breath, she released me and quietly handed me a handkerchief.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Rubes." She said, a sarcastic grin creeping onto her lips. "Though, you can let up a little on the shouting in my ear."

I snorted, mumbling an apology to the older girl, who simply shrugged it off, saying it was one of the many hazards of being my sister.

"I just… don't know what to do." I admitted bleakly, pulling my knees against my chest and squeezing them tightly. Yang hummed aloud from her place beside me on her couch. Her room was large – much larger than mine was, and much better decorated. Whenever we had the time to spend together, we usually opted to invade her room and talk. Not like she really minded, anyway.

"I mean, I want to go abroad." I added fervently. "It's my dream to go to see other countries and act, after all." Yang silently nodded at that, already knowing that this was true. "And it's a great opportunity to expand my career and skills and experience as an actress. I've already graduated school, so it should be a no-brainer, right?"

"Right." Yang agreed softly, though her lilac eyes regarded me carefully, as if sensing I was speaking something much different than I was feeling. In a way, I supposed I was. "So, the problem is this Weiss Schnee."

I sighed heavily, my forehead hitting my knees. "I don't think I can leave Weiss. I know I never even talked to her before… and don't even know what she's really like. All I have ever seen are her characters, and the personas she's taken on for a show… and that isn't enough to say you 'like' or 'love' someone. But…" I sucked in a deep breath, and released it. "But somehow, deep down in my heart, I know it's enough. I know what kind of person she really is. I can see it in her face, in her body and her gait, I can hear it when she talks, and I can see it when she smiles." I chocked back a hideous sounding sob. "Fuck, I am so messed up!"

As I sobbed incoherently, I could make out Yang's voice as she whispered softly, comfortingly in my ear about how I was not messed up, how I was lovely and smart, and caring, and any girl or guy would be lucky to have me, and if I was so serious about Weiss to just woman up – her words – and tell her so. Damn the consequences.

"You… you really think I should just tell her?" I sniffled unattractively, much to her horror at my unladylike display.

"I think you should." Yang said resolutely. "If you don't, then you will regret it later. You will go to abroad always wondering what would have happened if you had, and there will always be that lingering question about 'what if?'"

I blinked slowly. It sounded like something from a movie – and trust me, I knew movies – but at the same time, I knew it was likely true. "And if she… says no? What if she wants nothing to do with me?"

Yang shrugged, reaching out to ruffle my hair like she always did. "Then at least you will take the next step of your life without any doubts, Rubes. It may hurt, but at least you will know for certain." She smiled softly. "You'd have done the best you can do."

As I nodded in understanding, I knew that she spoke the truth. I may be confused, and scared, and excited all rolled into one bundle of hormones, but I knew that if I did nothing, I would regret it for years. Maybe even my whole life.

I made sure to attend the next play of Weiss'. I bought a bouquet of flowers to give to her after the end of the show, and settled in to watch her interpretation of Missy, the promiscuous French maid in the relatively recent farce, 'What the Bellhop Saw'.

Weiss did not disappoint. She donned the persona of the nubile, celebrity-mad maid like a second skin and flitted around the play with her feather duster and maid costume, lilting her accent as to fall deeper into her role as if she were born into it. It was exciting, enthralling, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of her the entire one hour and twenty minutes.

By the time the play ended, my stomach had evolved into a roiling mass of discomfort, and it was all I could do to stand and wait my turn as everyone gathered around Weiss to talk to her. As she mingled I watched her, standing there still in her maid's outfit, a charming smile on her face as she talked.

It was then, as she smiled brightly and talked with her co-actors and well-wishers, that I was struck with what I was actually planning on doing.

Here I was, a veritable stranger with flowers, planning on approaching this girl out of the blue, and essentially confessing her attraction to her. If I were her, how would I interpret that?

Well, considering that fact that it had happened to me more than once… not very well. In fact, it must happen to me at least once per public event. Honestly, I had gotten pretty sick of it, but still made sure to politely decline each and every one. And I was about to accost Weiss the same exact way I had been, all because I felt pressured before deciding to go abroad.

I couldn't do that to her. I was better than that, and I respected her more than that.

Taking a slow, steady breath, I stepped away from the throng of people surrounding her and made my way to the usher's office. I dropped off the flowers for them to leave in her dressing room, simply saying that they were from 'a big fan', and left, making sure to grab a program on the way out.

I left the country shortly after that. I knew that if I lingered, waffling as I normally did in this case, I would have changed my mind and crawled helter-skelter back to Weiss and declare that I was head over heels for the girl. But I was old enough to know I was being stupid, insane even, and signed the contract to go abroad as soon as possible.

The next few years flew by. I did movies, television shows and interviews. I met famous actors and actresses at least twice my age, with three times my experience, and learned more than I ever would have had I stayed home. I traveled all over the world. I learned so much about myself, and how to be a better actress.

I soon gained a reputation of being someone that 'never follows the script'. Back home it had been easy – everyone just followed my lead and let me have my way. Internationally, people like me were labeled as 'rebels' and 'difficult to work with'. But, as my skills grew, I would find ways around that. My fellow actors and actresses, directors and crew, would work with me instead of caving to my whims, and I picked up on their ques with practice, and was able to incorporate my talent for improvisation into the script.

I dated, too. After the initial shock of having a crush on Weiss Schnee wore off and I realized that I preferred women to men, everything seemed to just fall into place. Finding women like me was simpler than I had thought at first, if you knew where to look and the questions to ask. It was nice that people like me were more common abroad than back home, but it still took me a while to gain the courage to approach girls. I was famous, and for some reason being gay just wasn't really expected of me. It was a hard pill to swallow at first, but I eventually I learned how to be subtle with balancing my relationships and my public persona.

By my fourth girlfriend, I realized that each of them had at least one thing in common with Weiss Schnee. Either her eyes, with how they would narrow or crinkle as she laughed. Or how she walked into a room and held herself in the face of people around her. Or how she talked, how she would change her voice to match a certain mood or humor. It was as though my heart wouldn't let me forget about the girl I never had a chance with and was forcing me to find her again, even the small, seemingly inconsequential parts of her that I was attracted to, in the other women in my life.

By the time I realized I was seeing girls because they reminded me of Weiss, I broke it off with my last girlfriend and withdrew from the dating scene completely, concentrating fully on my work.

By the time I was twenty-two I had made an almost permanent name for myself in the international film scene and was taking the cinema world by storm. At least, that's what the magazines said. It was a little weird, at times, to read about yourself that way, as if you were a different person and all these people were talking about how great you were. Or how sexy you looked in a bikini. Or how amazing she must be to be around. Or how she never has been seen with a guy – or girl – at public events and what must be wrong with her and how she is a bitch or a dyke…

Sometimes, all you needed to do was read the tabloids and get a good dose of humility to bring yourself from out of the clouds. Even if they were partially true.

Eventually, I began to miss home and I asked my agent about the possibility to return for a time – maybe do some smaller, local contracts and relax a little. After some cajoling and bribery, I was allowed to, provided I worked with a few more well-known directors and writers on their projects.

The first thing I did upon landing going home was call up Yang for some good food. There was nothing quite like sharing a meal with your sister – even if she was married now. We laughed, we reminisced, and we were still best friends.

And, perhaps most importantly, she put me into contact with a good director she knew 'for old times' sake'.

The director, Stephen Fenton, was putting together a new television sitcom of a famous comedic play by Neil Simon. I had seen 'The Odd Couple' a few times, when I had worked through the discomfort of going to see a live production even knowing that Weiss would not be in it, and had enjoyed the play. I agreed to be cast in the show, not really caring that my reputation 'may suffer' by doing such a small contract.

Yang had gone through the trouble, after all, and I wasn't going to put her out by passing up her offer.

The day of auditioning for my counterpart, Florence, arrived and I was nervous. I knew the part of Olivia, of course. As the female version of Oscar, it was easy enough to be slovenly, lazy and rude. It was my co-star of the show that would inherently put me on edge.

This would be the girl to match me in all things on the show. To dialogue with me, and to become friends with me, despite being complete opposites. We would live together, and eat together, and play together. We would hate each other at times, yes, but we would always come back to each other in the end, as friends always did.

It wasn't real. It was an act. I had spent almost half of my life acting… so why would something like this bother me? But as the hopeful girls shuffled in, ready their lines, and left, I just couldn't figure it out. Why did this bother me so much?

As I huffed silently and crossed my arms, Stephen signaled for the next girl to enter. The door opened behind me and I waited. As her shadow passed through my peripheral I turned my head to focus on her and and—

I blinked.

It was Weiss. Weiss Schnee.

There was no mistake. She was older, of course, as I was. But she still had the same blue eyes, the same lean face and way she walked. And her hair was still as while as fresh snow, as I remembered. She was visibly nervous, as opposed to how she projected herself on stage, but that was expected from time to time. I could still see the girl behind her anxious posture; her apprehensive visage. I could still make out the girl I realized I liked, even before I know I liked girls. I could still see her, and knew she was even prettier than years before.

She was gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.

I managed a small grin through my suddenly wild and thumping heart and was rewarded with an equally shy smile in response. Somewhere, deep inside me, I felt my stomach roil and shift in the realization that this smile, this wonderful perfect smile… was for me, and me alone.

"Um…" She finally murmured, standing there with her back ramrod straight. "I am number two-oh-nine, Weiss Schnee." She curtsied prettily and held it for a few seconds. When she straightened again, she was staring at me, and I smiled at her mainly to reassure her… and myself.

She fumbled a bit at the beginning, likely due to being nervous, but after the initial setback, she began to recite from the script.

As she read her lines, the nervous shadow that lingered around her shoulders disappeared, and the actress I remembered came out. Her shoulders straightened as her arms relaxed. Her legs loosened from her lock-kneed stance. And her face, which had been so tight I was afraid her expression would never change, loosened as she became Florence. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I remembered each and every role I saw her play, from Hermia all the way to Missy, and I knew from the moment – maybe even from my first time ever seeing her step onto a stage – that I wanted her to by my side.

In acting… in life… I didn't care which.

The moment she left the room, bowing her head respectfully low, and a final shy smile to me, I waiting until the door closed and turned to Stephen just as he was about to call out for the next actress.

"I want her."

The man blinked. Twice. "Um… what?"

"I want Weiss Schnee on the show with me." I said decidedly. I had made up my mind on this, and I would move Heaven and Earth to get my way.

Stephen blinked again, looking past me to gauge the reaction from the writer, who simply shrugged. "You're sure?" He finally asked me a few moments later.

"Absolutely."

He heaved a great sigh, but knew me well enough to know when he had pretty much been Ruby-steamrolled. "I'll make the call, then."

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End of Part 6 / Epilogue

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A/N: And there we have it. A fitting end to a short, but powerful, love story.

This fic is essentially finished, since it was intended to be a short story and cutting out the 'fat' that really wasn't needed, but would have been nice to flesh out the characters with more interactions.

That being said...

As I said before, this is one of my favorite stories, and despite issues with some parts of the characters themselves, and I happen to love what has become of this Ruby and Weiss. They are awesome characters to write, and I don't like to see them gone quite yet. The fic is done, yes, but that doesn't mean there wont be any *extra* chapters at a later time. Ficlets, or small chapters detailing their lives with each other or similar things. I would like to do that, and maybe plan to sometime. So, I would like you all, if you are interested, to shoot me any prompts that you'd like to see this Ruby and Weiss (or this Nora, Yang, etc) get up to post story. It can be anything! From fluffy romance to pure smut! I'm open. I love these characters and would also love to see more of them.

So, shoot me a line if you are interested in seeing more of them, and I will try to oblige!

See you all in the next fic (or continuation chapters~!)

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