A/N: It's been a rough week, y'all. I hope it's been better for y'all! Don't forget, if you need someone to talk to during social distancing times, feel free to reach out on Discord – I'm always happy to chat!

Way Off Track

Seventh Hello

Qrow Branwen's office was just down the hall on the second floor. Clover awkwardly looked around, silently wondering how he had gotten himself into this situation. The whole plan had been to just give the paper back and be done with it; and yet, here he was, following the lanky professor down narrow, beige-coloured corridors, their footsteps echoing on smooth tile.

Finally, they reached Qrow's office. Situated in front of it was a small drop-box, the slit just wide enough to slip in papers. A few course codes were scrawled messily in black marker on top of the box, which was truly just a few papers away from overflowing. The clutter matched the slight hunch of the man's shoulders, the scruffy, hastily brushed-back hair, the faint crinkles on his same grey blazer which Clover had seen on the train.

Strangely enough, Clover didn't find any of these things unattractive.

Qrow opened up the door and flung it open haphazardly, wincing as it crashed into something bulky behind the door. "Shit." Still, he gestured for the man to follow him, so Clover quietly obeyed.

The office within was a little chaotic, but much less than Clover would have expected. Everything he needs to be marking and filing is probably in that submission box, huh? he thought wryly, smiling despite himself as he glanced around.

Qrow, who had been holding a small briefcase, dumped his bag carelessly onto a small stool behind his desk, then leaned against his table with folded arms. "So, how'd you manage to find the kid's paper again?" he asked, looking at the paper he had thrown onto his desk in amusement.

Clover sighed. "Honestly? We took the same train when you were marking it. I saw you drop it, so I thought I should give it back."

Qrow whistled, clearly impressed by the dedication. "You could've just given it to the front office, buddy." When Clover raised a brow at him- because yes, Clover had been trying to do that- to his surprise, Qrow flushed slightly, tucking the student's paper away in a similar stack of red-scratched pages on his desk. "Okay, fair enough."

Clover gulped. Should he ask? No harm, I suppose. "To be honest," he began carefully, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, "I was curious about the contents of the paper, so I looked up your class and your research." His mind calmed, and he began sliding into his sales pitch- the client-style portfolio he had created out of habit on Dr. Qrow Branwen's research was fresh in his mind, having glanced it over before heading out. "It actually got me a little curious. Dr. Branwen-"

"Call me Qrow," the man said airily, a wicked grin on his face. "You're not my student. Unless you are, and I'm missing all your work, which means you are screwed, kid."

Clover snorted, but instantly, he felt more at ease. "Qrow. Mind if I ask a few questions?"

Pleasantly enough, that seemed to work. Qrow's face split into a sincere, almost goofy grin. "You don't want to ask about a professor's research unless you've got a lot of time to spare…" He paused, then asked, "I didn't catch your name, buddy."

"Clover Ebi." Clover cursed himself silently for how his voice trembled slightly. This wasn't how he'd expected his drop-off to go, but he was here now. Keep the pitch going. Let's go.

Those crimson eyes that had lingered in his mind creased into thin lines, crow's feet wrinkling as Qrow's face split into a genuine smile. "Clover? What are you, a lucky charm?"

Clover froze. "Um… what?"

Qrow's eyes softened, and he hid his chuckle behind a hand covered in numerous steel rings and leather bracelets- so unlike any professor Clover had ever seen before. "Alright, Clover." Qrow gestured towards the small coffee table tucked against the wall. "Let's talk."

Only two seats surrounded the table, but one was covered in a coat and a pile of textbooks, so Clover took the other seat, leaned back, and smiled, ready to absorb whatever he could. It was going to be a challenge, though. Now that Qrow wasn't half-asleep or hungover, the man just oozed life, and it was absolutely entrancing.

And so, Qrow and Clover began to chat. Qrow told him about his classes, about his students, about the research he had done for his Ph.D. on the rise of crime in the continent of Anima in smaller, more isolated communities with the increase in banditry over the past century. The elder man continued to talk, happy to share his work in a way that only professors truly passionate about what they did could.

Clover was happy to listen. Oftentimes, he found himself a little bit lost, but after asking a few questions, he always found himself back on track, following along with the conversation. Sociology was something he had never studied in his undergraduate degree; psychology had been far more applicable with his work in business, so he had focused upon that. More than anything else, however, Clover found himself just content to sit down, leaning his chin upon his hand as he rested against the coffee table, watching Qrow animatedly discuss what he had done to collect data and just how annoying conducting research interviews were.

Suddenly, Qrow froze. "Enough about me, Mr. Good-luck-charm. What about you? What do you do?"

"I manage a software security firm," Clover began, reaching into his coat. He had a small sheaf of business cards on him at all times- Might as well use them.

Qrow's brow quirked upwards, but his smile was still amicable, curious. Clover swallowed thickly, making sure his expression was just as calm and composed as always despite the internal sirens going off, all of his alarms honing in on one question:

Is he interested in me?

Clover was about speak when a knock came from the door. Instantly, Qrow's expression soured. He walked over to the door in two long strides and flung it open, not reacting this time to the crashing sound (which had come from the door hitting an old, unplugged copy machine, Clover had found- why in the world such a giant, obsolete beast would be stored in a tiny university office was beyond him) as he looked at the face standing outside. "May I help you?" he growled.

Clover caught a peek of the person who had come to talk to Qrow. It was just a student- soft-spoken, long, straight brown hair, a small, dainty nose and mouth set underneath large brown eyes. She held out a paper for him to look at, and Qrow sighed, turning back to Clover. "Just amuse yourself for a sec," he said, stepping out of the office to speak to the student.

Clover immediately stood, glancing around the office. There was one thing he was looking for- one thing he desperately wanted to find. And within seconds, he found it.

Perched upon Qrow's desk, hidden from immediate sight due to the large monitor situated on his desk, was a photograph of four people- one man and two women next to a younger, darker-haired Qrow. They were paired off, a woman with Qrow's striking eyes and dark hair standing next to an easygoing blond, and a petite brunette smiling and leaning against Qrow's arm.

Clover's heart immediately sank. Okay. He's taken, I suppose. He didn't know how else to interpret the fondness of Qrow's smile as he looked at the woman.

Sighing, Clover glanced over to the man still standing outside of the door talking to the shy student. He was moving his hands around animatedly as he described the structure of some assignment. Clover's eyes honed in on his left hand- his multitude of rings- his ring finger-

Bare. So he wasn't married, at least.

It was almost disgusting, the quiet wave of relief that washed over Clover, relaxing every muscle in his body.

Finally, the student left, thanking Qrow profusely in the hallway before leaving. Qrow sighed, ruffling his hair and walking back into his office. "Sorry about that," he groaned. "Technically it's my office hours, but no one ever comes, so… oops?"

Clover stood, shaking his head. "It's alright. I should be getting back to the office, anyways." Handing over his business card, he added, "If you're alright with it, I'd like to continue this conversation another time." When Qrow didn't immediately refuse, Clover allowed his eyelids to hang heavy, smile quirking up at the corners coyly. "Perhaps over drinks? If that's alright with you?"

Qrow grinned wolfishly. "I knew I liked you, lucky charm. C'mon, I'll walk you out. I've got class soon anyways."

On the stairwell, however, the elder suddenly lost his balance, tripping over the slippery laminate floors. On instinct, Clover's arm shot out and grabbed Qrow, pulling the man up and straightening him out on the landing between floors. To Clover's surprise, Qrow pouted rather than trying to brush it off, muttering almost mournfully, "Lost a paper, had to have someone else bring it back, some kid actually showed up to my office hours for something dumb, could've broken a tooth just there- this just ain't my day, huh?"

Clover fought down his uncertainty and fear, deciding to go all in. Winking at the elder, he smoothly walked past him, heading down to the bottom floor as serenely as he could. "What are you talking about?" he called, turning back to look up at Qrow once he reached the first floor landing. "You are lucky. You met me after all, right?"

And to his ultimate satisfaction, at that statement, a surprised flush spread across Qrow's cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

Clover grinned, showing his teeth, green eyes locked on the crimson which had been haunting him the past week. "See you later, Doctor."

And with that, Clover left Beacon's Department of Sociology and headed back to AST, feeling giddy and lightheaded in ways he'd never felt before.