A/N: Hello all and welcome to chapter 12. It has been awhile since I have bothered to actually write anything and for that I do apologize. But here we are.

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.

*Dirty Win*

Joan knew that fighting in Goodwitch's class was usually a contest to see who was currently the worst fighter in their year. Most of the time, it was her due to a lack of having any sort of training and not even having her semblance unlocked. For Oum's sake, she didn't even have her aura unlocked until Pyrrha helped her do it in the Emerald Forest. She really didn't know how the hell she survived for as long as she had.

The blonde let out a dejected groan as Glynda spotted her instantly and began to stalk towards her like a Beowolf. 'Oh great. Probably going to yell at me for being late to class even though Qrow was the one who held us back a bit after the bell. Goddammit.'

"Alright, let's get this over with," she said with a sigh. "Let me guess, it's my fault my team showed up late even though Qrow held us after the bell?"

"That's Professor Branwen to you." Glynda scowled. "Watch yourself."

'I can call him whatever I feel like; he's my husband.' Joan bit her tongue to prevent herself from spitting that out. She didn't need that scandal getting out to the rest of their year. It was bad enough that RWBY knew.

"Fine. Professor Branwen then." She rolled her eyes. "Is that it then?"

"No. It's about your lack of progress. It's been nearly a full semester and you've shown little improvements," Glynda reprimanded. "We only accept the best of the best into our academy, so if you want to stay in your current position then I suggest you be more attentive. You don't pay attention to your aura, you haven't come up with any strategies, and…are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, I am. I get it." Joan folded her arms with a huff. "In fact, I want a match right now. Pair me with someone." She was going to volunteer for a fight just to spite the witch. Glynda never liked her from day one and now was a chance to put her lessons from Qrow to the test to see how they'd work out. 'Be petty. Win a match out of spite because I'm tired of constantly being put down. I know I'm not the strongest in my year; I've already made peace with it. But that doesn't mean I can't fight if push comes to punch.'

"Is that so?" The blonde professor scowled and pushed her glasses up, looking at the class. The classroom was dead quiet watching the whole affair between the two and she issued out her challenge. "You heard her. Miss Arc wants a match. Who'd like to volunteer?"

Cardin was of course the first to put his fist in the air. No doubt he was still pissed off about Qrow's remark earlier about how shit he was and wanted a rematch against the blonde. Though this time, he wouldn't be expecting her to fight dirty. "I'll do it."

"Very well. Mr. Winchester, come to the front." Glynda stood to the side, giving Joan one final glare. "You know the rules. When one combatant's aura dips into the red, the fight is called. Are you ready?"

Both Joan and Cardin nodded, their glares burning holes into the other. If looks could kill, the academy would be a pile of smoking rubble by now. The two of them had a rivalry since their initiation, both constantly fighting each other.

There was also the time Cardin accidentally touched her ass when he was trying to push her shield to make it get stuck in the door, but she didn't talk about that. Pyrrha already bloodied his nose for it.

"Begin."

Cardin took the first swing and Jon let it soar over her head. His follow through hit her shield and she grimaced, pushing him back. 'Yeah, no.'

It was time to make him taste his own medicine for once and she knew where to start.

"Hey, Cardin, I think I know why you use a big weapon like that." She gestured at his mace, moving her head out of the way of a hit that may have concussed her. "Is it because you're compensating for something a little down south?"

That brought out a few snickers from the crowd and Cardin glared at her. "V-very funny." Ha. He couldn't take shit talk. Luckily for her, she was trained by the goddamn master of sass.

"Oh so it is true." Joan smirked. "That certainly explains why you haven't been on a date this year. No one wants to go out with Micro-Penis Man. Though that would be an entertaining name for a super hero."

"Shut up!" Cardin's face was turning redder and redder. The snickers turned into outright howls of laughter, mostly from his own team. When he failed to hit her he let out a roar of frustration. "Goddammit! Stay still!"

"Okay." Joan stayed perfectly still and punched him as hard as she could squarely in the stomach. He doubled over and she tapped her foot.

"That looked like it hurt," she observed helpfully. "Do you want a kiss to make it feel better?" When he took another swing at her she jumped back. "Geez, you could have said no. My face doesn't need reconstructive surgery, though thanks for the generous offer."

Cardin yanked his mace from the ground and clashed it with her shield again, using his raw strength to overpower her. Joan let her foot slide back, kneeling down to gather a bit of dust on her fingers. It wasn't a large clump of dirt like she would have preferred, but it would do the trick.

"Hey, Cardin? Here's a present." She blew it into his face and boy was the result priceless. He yelled out in rage, temporarily blinded, and she punched him again. His aura took the hit but he still felt it.

"What the hell was that!?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, was I supposed to only hit with my weapon?" she asked mockingly. "I don't recall it being in the guidebook. And your attacks feel like silk. You know where silk comes from, right?"

"Shut up!"

"It comes from the ass of a worm."

Hook, line, and sinker. She baited him into fighting reckless by playing dirty. She couldn't be too smug about it for Qrow was the one who taught her, but she could be proud that she had successfully baited someone. It was nice not being the butt of a joke for once.

Qrow would be wiping tears of approval from his eyes if he was watching this and cheering her on. Because he was an asshole like that. Yes, he was an asshole that she married, but an asshole nonetheless.

Cardin's next series of strikes were much sloppier than his earlier ones and she easily evaded them, making sure to jam her elbow into his side whenever she passed him and stepping on his feet.

The blonde caught him in the jaw with the hilt of her sword and it made a sickening crack. His aura dropped and he collapsed in a heap, Joan sheathing her weapon. Game over.

Glynda was watching with wide eyes and she cleared her throat to get the attention of the class. "If one of you will be so kind as to try and wake up Mr. Winchester, that would be appreciated. In the meantime, Miss Arc and I will be having a short discussion about her…performance."

'Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me. I get my ass kicked, I get yelled at for not being good enough. Fight mean and dirty, I get chewed out for not playing by the rules. This never ends. I really wish Qrow was here to vouch for me on this one.' The blonde let out an exasperated sigh as she reluctantly followed Beacon's disciplinarian out of the class. She could tell the older woman was miffed judging by the way her riding crop was tightly grasped in her hand and the fact she used her semblance to slam the door shut behind them.

'Goddamn, take a chill pill. Or just get laid or something, sheesh.' Joan grimaced.

Yeah, she was fucked. And not in a good way.

"What the hell was that!?" Glynda demanded.

"Enlighten me. I won, what's the big deal?" Joan snapped back. "As far as I see it, there are no rules that say I can't do what I just did. It worked, didn't it?"

"You just taunted him and goaded him into it! Throwing dust into his eyes is not acceptable!"

"Since when the hell are there rules that say I'm not allowed to fight the way I want? You complain that I'm not good enough, yet when I find a way to compensate my lack of actual skill you just up and say it's not allowed? If so, then sod off. In fact, the way you act makes me think you just want me to fail at your methods so you have an excuse to get Ozpin to kick me out. Never once have you personally actually tried to encourage me to get better. Not once. The only people who have are my own team and one professor. ONE."

Normally Joan wouldn't snap out like this, but she was just sick and tired of the bullshit. "You want to know what my supposed fighting style is? It's called fighting mean. In real life, there are no rules on the battlefield. Our enemies, whoever they may be, are not going to play safe. They're out to kill us. So if elbowing them in the side or throwing dirt in their eyes keeps me alive, then I'll do it."

"Fighting mean? Who would…Qrow." Glynda's jaw tightened.

"Hole in fuckin' one. Write me up if you want, I don't care. I'm gonna do what is necessary for me to keep leading my team, and the dead make shit leaders." Joan scoffed.

"Glynda. I apologize for eavesdropping, but I'm afraid that Miss Arc is correct on this matter, her foul language notwithstanding," Ozpin gently chided, interrupting the two squabbling blondes. "These practices are kept safe by regulations. There are no such regulations in actual battle. In a sanctioned tournament, there are, but outside of these walls, playing by them is a sure way to end up dead. The last thing this world needs at the moment is dead huntsmen and huntresses."

"You call that playing by rules!?" Glynda screeched.

"I didn't kill him, so yes. He's just gonna have a hell of a headache when he wakes up," Joan deadpanned. "He's fine."

"He's unconscious!"

"I said he was fine, not good. Big difference."

Ozpin merely took a sip from his mug, looking at her curiously. "Well, I must say learning who your trainer has been for a little while certainly makes sense. Qrow has a unique way of teaching that doesn't always work, which is why he is so picky with those he took under his tutelage. For him to take an interest in you…it's certainly unusual."

"Yeah, I'm really thrilled about it." There was her newfound snark coming out again. Curse Qrow and his contagious sass. "Oh, sorry, professor. Dammit Qrow…"

"No worries. You'll find that unlike most, I can brag about not being affected by Qrow's unique affinity for inappropriate sassy remarks. After all, who do you think trained him to be like that?" Ozpin smirked.

"…you've got to be kidding me." Joan let out a groan. 'You know what? I suddenly don't hate my life. I hate other people's more. I wish they didn't have them.'

'…oh my god I'm even sounding like Qrow. Curse him and his charm.'

"While I will say that your unique style of combat is a welcome change, berating our staff is not allowed." There it was.

"You know, I kind of worked that one out myself."

"Joan." Ozpin's stare firmed a little.

"Sorry." She winced. It wasn't often that she saw the headmaster actually be annoyed. This was one of those rare times.

"You will have four days of detention. Glynda normally would be the one overseeing it but seeing as I would inevitably have to break up a war, Professor Branwen will be making sure you attend."

"If you'll excuse me, I'll go back to my class. I worry that they'll get up to no good." Glynda gave Joan one last dirty look before stomping back to class.

"Walk with me awhile," Ozpin invited. "I do apologize that we never had the opportunity to talk much. Running an academy as large as this does tend to make me a busy man."

"As long as it puts distance between me and her, I'm down." Joan shrugged, earning a soft chuckle from the headmaster.

"Joan, I know that you have a great burden on you, but letting your frustrations out like this is by no means the right way to go about it. And no, I'm not talking about your position as leader of Team JNPR." He tilted his glasses down knowingly.

"Oh so now you're going to talk about why you decided to marry me and someone almost twice my age?" Joan asked dryly. "And here I was beginning to think it was never going to happen and I'd have to haunt you or something to get an answer."

"Well, to be honest it wasn't my intentions," Ozpin confessed. "Truth be told, in my severely impaired state I do not recall even meeting you two. Life lesson: never drink anything that Professor Port offers you."

"Do I even want to know where the hell you ended up that night?"

"Tied down to a bed with my ex wife, who has attempted to murder me numerous times, next to me."

What?

A/N: Now for ways for Qrow to purposely fuck with Joan during detention. Hmm…

I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

A Lovestruck A2#0097