It's 9:00 p.m., Friday. A woman, probably in her early twenties, unties the bun that her hair had been in since this morning, letting the pale feathers cascade down her shoulders. Winter sighs as she logs into an online match site where she had been frequenting for the last few months. It was all anonymous, of course. But the information on herself was real, and she pursed her lips at the thought of not getting any hits once again. Once she was in, the older Schnee was surprised to hear the sound that she had been waiting for all these months. There, sitting prettily, was a single notification that someone had hit her up. Her stoic expression didn't show it, but her azure eyes betrayed the fact the she was quite literally overjoyed at the fact that someone had proposed to meet. She anxiously scrolled over the sender's information: tall, with dark hair and a penchant for over sized weapons. Winter narrowed her eyes as a character that she did rather not think about appeared in her mind, but she shook it off as being impossible. Hurriedly, a reply was composed, detailing the time and place of the meeting tomorrow. Finally, thought Winter as she pondered over her choice of clothing for tomorrow.

Dressed in a simple ice-blue bustier with her hair down, Winter entered the quiet restaurant and sat at the appointed table. A wine waiter came and took her orders while she silently scanned the restaurant. The waiter went away and her eyes came to rest on a familiar looking silhouette far off in the corner. He was sitting with his back to her, with several bottles of chartreuse beside him. As usual, he was slumped over on the table as his fingers toyed with the glass. She scowled at the sight, wondering what the dusty character was doing here. No matter, not even that idiot will ruin my night, I am finally meeting someone, Winter thought as she tried to reject the creeping suspicions that were slowly pervading her mind.

Perhaps I have been stood-up, mused the older Schnee as she sipped at her wine. It's been a good thirty minutes. Suddenly, the drunken man at the corner table staggered upright. A waiter came over to assist him, only to be pushed aside. The man slicked back his unkempt hair as he stumbled over to Winter's table. He collapsed into a chair opposite hers and gave her an uppity look.

"What...are you doing here?!" hissed Winter as she recoiled from the pungent smelling man.

"Lookin' good, Ice Queen," stuttered Qrow, "Those earrings really bring out your eyes."

"A-are you the one who sent me the message?" tensed Winter as she awaited for the terrifying answer.

"Message? Oh, I see, even a specialist like you needs help sometimes. What, do I fit the description? Am I your type, Miss Schnee?" smirked Qrow.

"No! Why you-" Winter hesitated for a moment and reached for her wine glass to fling at the self-satisfied looking drunkard.

Qrow leaned forward and gripped her wrist. "Cool it. I wasn't the one. And besides, you wouldn't want to make a scene here, huh?" Winter looked around and, aware that her sudden outburst had drawn the curiosity of a few pairs of eyes, settled the glass back down.

"If it wasn't you, who was it?" she asked tersely while narrowing her eyes.

Qrow grabbed the unfinished wine and chugged it down while shrugging his shoulders.

"Winter? Was it you who responded? Are you Turquoise Dreams?" said a smooth baritone behind her.

Winter turned around to see none other than Ironwood dressed in a dinner jacket.

"Sorry for being late. Military emergency, as you would understand. And what, is he doing here?" pointed Ironwood at a sniggering Qrow.

"Ah, I was just leaving anyway. Have a good night, you two, " Qrow said as he got up and left the table. Ironwood furrowed his brow and decided not to question any further, taking his place where the alcoholic sat.

Winter watched as the figure swaggered to the door with his hands in his pockets. She couldn't help but suppress the weird feeling that came with finding out that her date wasn't Mr. Branwen, after all.