Qrow sneaks onto General Ironwood's ship to find something important to him

Qrow, strictly speaking, wasn't allowed onto Ironwood's ship. Well, the old General hadn't expressly forbidden him from entering the ship, but he doubted he would approve of Qrow stowing away on the cargo transport and sneaking onto the ship. Honestly, Qrow was surprised he had made it so far. It seemed Ironwood didn't put so much emphasis on security on his ship; he probably wasn't expecting trouble in Beacon. Which, again, Qrow thought was a dumb thing to do. Oh well. It suited him, so the greying huntsmen couldn't complain too much.

Qrow had a plan, sneaking onto the ship. But, stalking the halls silently, he couldn't remember for the life of him what it was exactly. He had a goal in mind, of course, which in of itself was terrible, but... Well, he was sure it would be worth it. Worth something, at least.

So, here Qrow was, walking down a hallway with his hands in his pockets, looking left and right for any sign or clue that would lead him towards his prize. It was important. It was very important, to both Qrow and Ironwood. One moreso than the other. So where would James Ironwood keep something important?

Somewhere important, Qrow concluded.

So where was the most important place on this ship to the General?

The war room. In fact, Qrow had an inkling that's exactly where his prize found itself, someway or another. He wrinkled his nose as he entered the mess hall. Scores of soldiers milled about, sitting on benches, eating and chatting. That would explain the lack of guards about. It was lunch.

Not that he would have a problem with the soldiers in the ship. Unless Ironwood had given his men express orders that Qrow was not to be on the ship, he could just easily lie and say he had a meeting with the General. Nobody would be any the wiser.

In fact, Qrow decided to employ this tactic right then. He walked up to a bench, hands still in his pockets, casual as you please. The soldiers looked up at him, almost in awe. Qrow smiled slightly. He knew the ways of Atlas. These kids were probably conscripted into the military at birth. The closest thing they would have to celebrities would be hunstmen like him. Qrow could use this to his advantage.

He hoped his prize wouldn't wait too long.

"Hey, fellas. Any of you know the way up to the war room?"

Silence met him. Strict Altlasian training had apparently not covered being star struck. He swore he could almost see stars in one of their eyes. Qrow scratched his stubble, still waiting.

Finally one of them, a doe eyed man with long black hair that just brushed his shoulders, spoke. "Y-yeah!" his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat as a bright red blush overtook his cheeks. Qrow almost laughed out loud. "I can take you there!" He stood up, grabbing his helmet. His friends just looked on, definitely in awe. This guy was certainly going to be Mr. Popular later.

The soldier led Qrow out the door, and down some hallways.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, sir," the soldier started, timidly. "I'm a huge fan of yours."

Qrow quirked an eyebrow at him as they rounded another corner. "That so?"

"Yeah! We're all big fans of your work! That time a few years back, when you took out that rogue huntsman," his voice grew in pitch. "That was awesome!"

Qrow smiled slightly. The kid must have been green as grass. He liked him, feverent fanboyism aside. Finally, they arrived at the elevator. Qrow entered, and looked at the kid.

"Thanks, kid," he winked. He could hear faint squeals as the elevator ascended. It stopped, and the metal doors slid open to reveal a large white room.

"General Ironwood, sir-"

Qrow smiled.

"Just me, Winter."

Winter Schnee frowned, her eyebrows furrowed. "What are you doing here, Qrow?" she asked, venom and ice dripping from her words. Qrow stepped out of the elevator, hands still in his pockets. After all, she was putting up an act, why wouldn't he? Winter locked eyes with him as he rounded the table she stood beside, stopping opposite her. She shot icy daggers with her glare and Qrow honestly relished in it.

He had never known the cold to be so electrifying, but here she was. And they'd only just started.

"I thought I'd take a tour of ol' Jimmy's ship," he shrugged. "Ain't bad. Think I've even got a few fans here."

Winter sighed. "Get back to Beacon, Qrow."

Qrow leaned on the table. "Drop the act, Winter."

Winter leaned on the table too, getting close to Qrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about, and I'd suggest you get off this ship before General Ironwood catches wind of this little stowaway."

Qrow leaned in closer. "I came here to see you, Winter," he said softly. Winter was taken aback. That was unexpected.

Not the fact that he snuck onto her boss' ship to see her, but the fact that he openly admitted it. If Winter was honest, she knew their little act was just that: an act, but she didn't expect it to break down to this so quickly. Usually it involved more venom, more banter, and... other stuff. Angry, hateful, amazing, other stuff.

Winter relaxed her body as Qrow tensed his.

"Qrow," she said, in a tone of voice Qrow had grown to recognize as 'let-you-down-easy'. "You know we can't."

"I know lots of things, Winter." he replied, blood-red eyes never leaving pale blue. "I know we can't. What I don't know is why not."

"Why won't you just give it up, Qrow?" Winter sighed again.

"Because I haven't felt the way I do with you since Summer was alive," he said, barely a whisper.

Winter swallowed hard. She could tell him, right then and there, that nobody had ever made her feel the way he did either. But she couldn't.

Winter couldn't, because she was a Specialist under the Atlasian military, which required her to be anywhere at any given time, to perform dangerous tasks. Winter couldn't, because she was a Schnee, and her father would disown her. Winter couldn't because...

Because she was afraid.

The word 'Love' could only apply to one person in her life: Weiss. She couldn't afford to let another in. The thought terrified her. The thought chilled her to the bone.

"Get out, Qrow," Winter spoke. Qrow could have sworn he saw something like tears in her eyes. But she blinked and it was gone. Qrow pulled away from the distance between the two. Winter was final in her decision. She always was. Qrow rounded the table, stopping right beside her. Slowly, he brushed a hand against hers. It was intoxicating. She was intoxicating. Better than any booze money could buy. But not his. Not for Qrow.

He stopped, pulling away again before he did something stupid. He entered the elevator, and got one last look at the older Schnee sister before the door closed. Maybe for good this time.