Way Off Track

Fifth Meeting

The student's paper remained in its protective cover, set out lovingly on his kitchen table until the next morning. Then, as Clover packed up his work bag for the day, he slipped the paper in with his computer. He had no idea if Qrow Branwen would be on transit that morning, but carrying the paper with him felt like a good luck charm. Maybe the paper would lead him to the Beacon professor.

He probably needs it back, Clover thought idly, a spring in his step as he set forth on his daily trek, ready to reach the subway for the 7:30AM train. If I am able to hand it off, it'll probably save him some hassle with the student if they come looking for it.

It definitely wasn't because he wanted to see Qrow again. Not at all.

So, Clover kept his eyes focused on the door of his carriage, waiting for that loping gait to enter the carriage of the subway. As he did, he found himself not bothering to reach for his headphones for once. The rain had given up early that morning, so he could see everyone clearly today; the day before had been nothing but a blur of raincoats and rustling umbrellas dripping water over already-filthy floors.

Oddly enough, Clover found that the crowd filling the train that day was interesting to watch. Bodies drifted in and out as usual, all yawning and catching short naps on the jostling train. A few noses were buried in books, while others focused on listening to something quietly, ignoring the world around them; the few who nursed cups of coffee in thermoses and to-go cups only focused on how best to not spill their drink onto those around them. Still, Clover enjoyed watching them, as mundane as it all was.

Perhaps it was because Clover was looking for something in particular today; perhaps it was due to the fact that he knew what he had to do when he found what he was looking for.

Either way, his search proved fruitless. Qrow Branwen didn't enter the train that morning.

It would've been a lie to say that Clover wasn't disappointed by that fact. Upon entering the office, his mood soured further as he found no receptionist awaiting him, no coffee in the pot, no portfolios on his desk. Harriet was cussing and pitching a fit at Vine already from across a cubicle divider, and Elm looked near to losing her temper from listening to the one-sided argument.

Still, this was his job. He needed to sort it out. So, he did, resolving each situation as efficiently as he could until the tensions had eased and he could retreat to the lounge, pouring himself the coffee he himself had set to brew.

He grimaced upon first sip. It was bitter.

Although he wasn't the greatest fan, Clover's coffee was filled with cream and sugar before he finally entered his office to begin the workday. He had removed the protective cover with the student's paper inside and placed it on his desk alongside his laptop. Reading the paper was impossible with the amount of commentary crammed clumsily onto the page, red flooding the margins; still, Clover enjoyed trying to make out the original text as he drank his too-weak-too-bitter-too-sweet coffee.

Oddly enough, his phone began to ring. He picked up the call without a second thought; it was Tuesday, after all. Who would it be, James? Perhaps Marrow telling him why he wasn't in the office yet?

Instead, it was his mother. He frowned, glancing at the screen- the woman had texted him earlier, but he'd been so caught up in the mess which was the office and his lacking adventure on the subway that he'd missed the message. The usual cyclical conversation repeated, Clover's replies forming automatically after months and months of the same routine. As he spoke, though, his mind raced; normally the calls were always on Wednesdays. Had something changed?

Then, he heard it- a young, brash female voice in the background, echoing authoritatively through the phone. "Are you sure you won't come, Clover?" his mother said like clockwork.

Not with Robyn there. He didn't need to see his half-sister. Nope. "I'm at work, mom. Now, if that's all."

"Your sister misses you too. She just came home, you know-"

His smile faltered for a moment. "Okay. I've got to go." Before she could continue, he hung up the phone, letting out a long, weary exhale, dispelling the tension in his body.

Why was Robyn back in Atlas? She had made such a big deal of moving out and never coming back only a few years earlier. Annoyance rose in his chest, and he scowled, tucking his phone away so he wouldn't have to think about it anymore. There was work to be done.

At least, he wished he could focus upon it. His meeting with clients that morning went well, and his check-ins on current projects were all fine. They were on track; there was nothing to worry about.

And yet, as they wrapped up their next project proposal meeting that afternoon, Vine still folded his hands primly in his lap and murmured, "Clover, you seem distracted. Is something on your mind?"

Clover maintained his neutral expression, silently cursing himself for allowing his attention to wander.

Still not over the morning's argument with Vine, Harriet glowered at him from her seat across the conference table. "I hate to say it, but yeah, you are."

Clover shook his head, smiling as he closed down the presentation. Marrow, who had arrived almost an hour late due to a family emergency, flicked on the lights as Clover said, "It's just been a busy week. I appreciate the concern."

Elm grinned at him, cheerily saying, "Maybe you should go on a vacation! You haven't taken one since last year, right?"

It was true. Clover had relished in that break from work, taking two weeks to sleep in, work out, and relax, enjoying the comfort of his tiny apartment rather than having to endure the rest of Vale. It had been a good way to reset after the jarring culture shock which had been coming to the city.

Rather than replying, Clover simply laughed politely as Harriet grumbled, "Yeah, you're worse than all of us about taking breaks." The rest of the team chuckled and finally began to filter out of the small conference room, leaving Clover a moment alone to think.

They were absolutely right; he had been distracted throughout the meeting. Every time his attention drifted from the subject at hand, he would always inevitably find himself pensively stuck on the phone call. On Robyn. Why in the world was she back in Atlas? It just didn't make sense.

And then, there was Qrow Branwen, and the paper Clover needed to give back. He wanted to see the man again- wanted to hear that voice. See those eyes. However, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how odd it would seem if Clover visited him out of the blue. Wouldn't it be obvious that Clover had researched him if Clover just showed up at Beacon?

Still, with that final meeting over and the workday drawing to a close, Clover knew what he had to do. He couldn't do anything about the situation in Atlas, but he certainly could return the paper. At the very least, he could find an administrative building and drop it off there. He didn't need to return it face-to-face; frankly, he had no idea how he'd even broach the topic. So, he could hand it off to a secretary or something. And then, his distractions could be quelled, his commutes would be calmer, and Qrow Branwen would just return to being another nameless face dozing off or marking or nursing coffee upon the subway every once in a while.

Clover frowned. That thought made him feel… unexpectedly lonely.