A/N: Hey all, welcome to chapter 10. Last time we left off on a big reveal and now we get to explore more of it.

An Unlucky Drunken Marriage

Summary: Qrow just wanted to relax after a long time away on a mission. Celebrating by hitting the new nightclub that opened up seemed good in his mind. Too bad he ended up drunkenly marrying a cute blonde knight in the process.

*Revelation*

Joan shook her head, unable to believe the words her husband had just said. "Wait, wait, wait. Hold the fuck up. You mean to tell me that Weiss Schnee, the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, is your freaking daughter!? How!?"

Qrow sighed and took a seat against the wall, patting his pockets for his flask. He found it and went to take a swig when he found it empty. He put it back with a scowl and slicked his bangs back. "Look Blondie, it isn't that simple to explain. But since we're stuck together it seems as though I ain't got much of a choice."

"I fucking asked her out goddammit!" Joan sank to her knees with a groan. She ignored the bark of laughter from her jackass of a husband and rubbed her head. "Oh god how am I gonna even look at her now!?"

"Well, staying off of the internet for awhile might be a good idea," Qrow offered helpfully. "Don't want you to get any ideas from those naughty sites that one emo kid on my nieces' team looks at."

"Qrow!" Joan scowled. "I'm serious!"

"…you really did ask out Weiss?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah I did. To the damn dance no less. Not my proudest moment," the blonde admitted. When Qrow didn't answer she looked up and puffed out her cheeks, feeling the heat rush to them. "Don't give me that look dammit! I would have thought Yang might have told you or something…" 'It wasn't that big of a secret. Hell even Ruby wasn't surprised when she found out about that.'

"She didn't," Qrow deadpanned. "But anyway, that's not important. You know who Willow Schnee is, right?"

"Yeah. Jacque Schnee's wife," she answered. Who the hell didn't know that? They had to be living under a goddamn rock to not know who the Schnee family was. Part of the reason she asked out Weiss to the dance was because she got to hear her sing a few times.

"Well, I was in Atlas for a few months on missions," Qrow explained. "While there, Willow and I got into a few…altercations, let's call it. I said some things to her that are best left unsaid, such as her being too much of a coward to stand up to her husband and fight his tyranny. Called her out on her drinking in front of their eldest daughter and being a shit parent. I didn't expect to ignite a fire in her."

"What did she do?"

"She slammed me onto the bed with her glyphs. I'll let your imagination do the rest," Qrow replied. "Easy there; I know you think I'm good looking and all but don't have a nosebleed."

"Shut up, Qrow." Joan huffed. "So. You had an affair with Willow Schnee. Are you sure Weiss is your kid?"

"Considering it was about eighteen years ago and my luck is literally the shittiest in the world?" Qrow asked rhetorically. "Yeah. I'm pretty damn sure. Jacque hates her even more than he does his wife and she's a little jackass. Though that last bit is just my good genetics. Wish she had the red eyes though."

"Flatter yourself some more why don't you." Joan rolled her eyes. "But seriously, have you even told Weiss about this? That you're her real dad?"

"Would you want to believe that?" Qrow asked. "Hell no she wouldn't. Besides…if I just go up to her and say, 'Hey Ice Queen, I'm your real dad', she's gonna have the good old General Ironwood arrest me and put me in an insane asylum for the rest of my life. Or file the world's largest restraining order." Okay, he might have had a point. Not the point in his pants. Bad brain. She definitely was not looking at the way his pants were slightly pitched. Nope. Though it did seem large to her untrained eye.

"Didn't I tell you to take a picture instead of just staring at it?" Qrow suggested with a wink. He laughed at the embarrassed squawk of protest and leaned over to boop her on the nose. "Gotcha."

"You did that on purpose, you jackass!" She swatted his hand away.

"Guilty as charged, Blondie." Qrow booped her nose again and took a sip from his flask.

"Would you quit calling me that dammit!?" Joan swatted his hand away. "My name isn't that hard to say! And really? You're getting drunk when you're supposed to be teaching?"

"I'm always drunk." Qrow shrugged. "Better than being sober."

"Care to enlighten me on that one, oh mysterious and brooding husband?" Joan rolled her eyes only to stop being a jackass back when she saw the somber look in his eyes. "Oh holy shit you're dead serious."

"Yeah I am." Qrow lowered his hand with a sigh, slicking his bangs back. "Being a huntsman for as long as I have, I've seen some things that I don't want you to ever have to see. Friends and family die in my arms. Being drunk takes away that pain and lets my mind be free of it for a short fleeting moment. I'm a shitty role model but a great drinking buddy. I wish I was the better role model."

"Well, you don't have to be a terrible one," Joan murmured. "Ruby and Yang look up to you a lot." So there was the reason he drank as much as he did. It was to numb his own mental pain. But regardless it was still a terrible way of coping.

"They do," he agreed. "For reasons beyond my comprehension."

"No it's because you're a good person." Joan stood up to him fully, even though she was shorter than him by a considerable margin. He was at least a half a foot taller than she was. To even attempt to look him in the eyes she would need a stepstool. "There's a good person in there." She briefly touched his chest.

"When the hell did you become my therapist?" Qrow cracked the faintest of smiles and ruffled her hair.

"When you drunkenly married me," Joan answered, smiling back. "Maybe you should get a dictionary and look up the word, 'wife'."

"How the tables have turned." Qrow chuckled and gave her a hug. "You went from hating my guts to this. I wonder if I rubbed off on you enough." He stopped and gave her a look. "Don't you—"

"Bow chicka bow wow." Joan beat him to it and ducked under the playful swat. "Ha, missed old timer. Getting a little rusty there?"

"Oh that does it, you little shit." Qrow let out a playful growl and reached for his sword. "You ready to get your ass kicked?"

"Ha. Bring it on, you old man." Joan smirked and readied her shield. "I'm not going down that easily now."

"We'll see about that."

Qrow swung first in a powerful arc. Joan waited until impact before she moved, losing only a hair of aura in the process and rolling with the momentum. She sprung lightly on her feet and ducked under the follow through strike, slamming her shield into his ribs. He let out a grunt of surprise and his responding attack forced her to jump back. Not before she stepped hard on his foot though.

"Ah, I see you're into fighting dirty," Qrow grunted, rubbing the spot she whacked him. "Good shit." He threw a punch and caught her by surprise, making her double over winded. "But still a little slow sometimes."

"Oof!" Joan caught her breath back and glared at him. "You hit like a fly."

Qrow's response was to thump her again. Okay, that one definitely hurt. Stupid rings made it worse. They were going to leave a mark for sure, even with aura.

"Dunno, that didn't look as though it felt like silk," Qrow said with a smirk. "You know where silk comes from, right?"

"Oh do shut up," the blonde huffed, swinging at him again and leaping over the kick.

"It comes from the ass of a worm," her jackass of a husband continued.

"You could have cleaned that up a bit you know."

"Ha. Don't get me started on where eggs come from if it makes you blush that much."

"Hey, since you're a birdman, does that mean you've guarded a bird's nest?" she asked out of morbid curiosity. "I can see you doing it once or twice."

"Sober or intoxicated? Because I can safely say I've never done it sober." Qrow laughed and his sword met Joan's shield again. "Nice block." He moved his foot out of the way of hers. "Nice try. That trick won't work on me twice."

"Drunk. Those tend to be the more entertaining stories."

"…you're recording this for blackmail purposes aren't you?"

"Nope. Though that is a great suggestion. I wonder how many people would watch it if I put it on the internet." Joan smirked and jumped back from his strikes. "Too slow, old man."

"Oh I'll show you slow when I have you bent over Port's desk." Her husband waggled his finger with a shiteating grin. "Thigh highs on or off? I'm partial to them staying on."

"Ha. In your dreams." Joan fought back a blush at the thought of being in bed with him again and focused on her swordsmanship. Her longsword didn't have the same sort of reach as his claymore, meaning she would have to get closer to him in order to be effective. It would nullify his reach advantage and she could press on a counter attack, provided he didn't swat her away like an annoying fly. 'Think, Joan. He's stronger, taller, and has a huge advantage in skill. So I have to play dirty and smart.'

She bashed her shield against his sword in an attempt to stagger him and put him slightly off balance. His attack was disrupted and he stumbled a little, trying to regain composure. The handle of her sword hit him right in the stomach and he doubled over with a loud grunt.

"That looked like it hurt," she observed helpfully. "Does someone want a kiss to make it feel better?"

In response to her question, Qrow promptly scooped up a handful of dust and chucked it into her eyes. He liked fighting dirty too. Heh, get it? Fighting 'dirty'?

Okay, that pun was even worse than Yang's. Even she wouldn't stoop that low, right?

Actually, never mind. Yang would definitely stoop that low. If there was one thing the blonde brawler loved more than her hair, it was making the shittiest jokes known to humankind. Seriously, she had issues. It was enough to start the biggest food fight Joan ever had the pleasure of participating in. Getting thrown across the cafeteria by Ruby and smeared with food was well worth smacking Yang dead in the face with a pie. Preferably shaving cream.

"Ack! You goddamn jackass!" Joan was temporarily blinded by the cheap and dirty tactic, trying to rub it out of her eyes and swinging her sword around. She hit nothing but air and like before she landed on her ass.

"Not bad, Blondie. You're getting the hang of this." She felt herself get tugged up and she finished rubbing her eyes to see Qrow grinning broadly at her. "You did well. But this is just practice. I want to see how you utilize this in a real fight."

"…so you want me to throw dirt in someone's eyes in the middle of an actual match," Joan deadpanned. "Do you think Glynda will let me get away with that?"

"Yep." Qrow sounded so sure of himself. Joan wished she had half of his confidence. "She won't think twice about it. She puts up with me after all." He had a point there. Again, not the point in his pants. Stop looking.

Joan dusted herself off, wiping the sweat away. "Thanks, Qrow. I think I'll hit the showers before class starts."

"Can I come?" Qrow asked hopefully.

He let out a bark of laughter as she gave him the finger. "The only thing you do by giving me that dirty look is make me want to bend you over the desk."

"Oh do shut up before I kiss you." The blonde huffed indignantly, her cheeks puffed out.

"Make me." He stuck his tongue out childishly. Sometimes it was hard to believe he was in his damn thirties.

Joan stalked over to him, grabbed his smirking face by the cheeks, and yanked him to her height to kiss him. It was sloppy, it was messy, but for now it shut him up.

"…what's the occasion?" he mumbled.

"To keep you from running your mouth," she shot back.

She won this round. But that mischievous glint in his pale eyes was enough for her to know he'd settle the score.

A/N: So endeth this chapter. I have way too much fun with this pairing for how crack it is. Also, listening to Hollywood Undead while writing makes me do lewd things…

A Lovestruck A2#5371