A/N: In my outline for this fic (for anyone who doesn't read my RWBY 'Laws of Attraction' fics, 1. If you like Team JNPR or wanna see a fleshed-out canon rewrite, go check it out! And 2. As I've shown readers in that series, I outline and draft my stories in very, very stupid ways) I had these two lines making up most of the outline for last chapter:

Realizes back on the train that he didn't get qrow's contact and he fucking hates himself cuz his office number doesn't count like fuck fuck fuck

Clover's like *gay panic*

…So that's the quality of content I'm producing I suppose

Way Off Track

Ninth Capture

A hint of silver and a mischievous smile were all Clover could see as he walked into work, moving through his routine in a daze. He faintly heard Marrow's greeting, barely noticed Vine's placid small talk, and didn't even react when Elm clapped him on the shoulder announcing that she'd figured out the bug she'd been working to solve for days. Instead of engaging with them (even as minimally as usual) his eyes kept drifting to any and every clock he could find, focusing on the minutes ticking by.

5PM, and he would finally get to spend some proper time with Qrow.

A part of him felt ashamed that he was so blatantly excited to go for drinks with the professor. After all, Clover was a grown man- he'd gone on plenty of dates throughout his time in university and after in the workforce.

A grimace twisted his mouth unknowingly. All of that had been back in Atlas. Life was different now- he hadn't gone out for dinner with someone other than a client or his coworkers since he had moved to Vale, almost a year and a half earlier.

Except for that one date with the landlord's daughter. God, what a mess that had been. He shuddered just thinking about it.

So perhaps he could forgive himself for feeling giddy at the prospect of going out to dinner with someone of his own volition, rather than out of obligation. It certainly helped that hearing Qrow's voice was quickly becoming one of Clover's favourite sounds in the world- the smoky, low tone of his words coming through Clover's headphones had instantly put him at ease throughout his morning commute. Getting to hear that voice over dinner was going to be wonderful.

His hand trembled for a moment as he poured his coffee, just barely avoiding spilling it onto the counter. He cleared his throat and straightened up, banishing the image of a silver ball sitting on a pink tongue. He still couldn't believe the man had a tongue piercing, of all things.

He hated how much he liked that knowledge- how much he wanted to see that piercing clearly.

It was Harriet who finally called him out for being so distracted that day. As a small debrief came to an end, she leaned on the table and scrutinized his glazed-over eyes curiously. "What's going on, chief? Something good happen?"

He had been opening up his computer to check a message, pausing to ponder her question; it took every speck of willpower in him to not immediately put on a defense. Instead, he let out a little sigh, chastising himself mentally. Had he really been so transparent? "Nothing in particular," he replied evenly, keeping his smile classy and professional. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you're sighing like a lovesick puppy," Elm snickered.

Harriet blew a raspberry at the tall woman, waving her hand dismissively. "Someone managed to worm their way into Clover's cold heart? Yeah, I doubt it," she laughed, packing up her papers and heading back to her cubicle.

Marrow passed by behind Clover to turn off the smartboard presentation. As he walked by him, Marrow paused, suddenly tapping Clover on the shoulder and pointed to the man's computer screen. "Oh, are you listening to BU's social sciences podcasts?" he cheered. "My cousin showed me those! They're really good."

A part of him wished that he had minimized the screen, but a part of him was curious. Clover raised a brow, spinning in his office chair to look at Marrow properly. "You listen to it?" he asked, mildly surprised. Marrow seemed much more likely to listen to movie or video game-related things. Sociology hardly seemed to be his main area of interest.

Marrow grinned, nodding happily. "Yeah. My cousin's in the Department of Social Justice and Equity there. Blake's super into it." He leaned over Clover's shoulder, his smile growing as he pointed to the names of the hosts. "Apparently Dr. Branwen's the best, a real piece of work, although her supervisor for her honour's thesis- Dr. Oobleck," and he pointed to another episode, hosted by a man whose hair looked perpetually fried, "- is kind of extra."

"Really? Dr. Branwen's a good prof?"

"Yeah!" Marrow took a seat on the edge of the conference table, pulling out his phone and scrolling through some messages. "She sent me a video of his class once. He's her favourite prof." Finally, Marrow seemed to find it, showing Clover the small screen. Clover narrowed his eyes as Marrow clicked the play button, then proceeded to watch in wide-eyed amazement at what unfolded onscreen.

After the video began to loop around again, Clover let out a long sigh. "Well. That's… certainly one way to do it." What the hell did I just watch?

Okay, Clover understood what he'd seen; a young man, presumably a student, had called out a racist slur in class. While the video had been shaky, the image often blocked by pale fingers with long, artificial black nails, the audio had been fairly clear. Qrow's response to the comment had apparently been to move up the stairs in the large, sloping lecture hall he had probably been teaching in, a lecture slide still projected onto the giant screen at the front of the room. As he ascended the stairs, hands tucked casually into his pockets and air so completely unfazed that it was unsettling, Qrow began systemically ripping into the student until the young man- far too tall and muscular to fit comfortably in small lecture seats- was cowering where he sat, his glassy eyes visibly showing his humiliation and fear even from across the hall. Qrow's voice never raised, just sinking quieter and quieter until even his clip mic was having trouble picking up his words.

Then, at the last second, he had roared in the student's face, microphone screeching in protest as he kicked him out of the class. "And don't come back unless you've done research and can prove to me you're able to keep that garbage out of my classes!" he growled, sending the giant student scurrying away.

The students cheered, and then, the video began to loop again.

Marrow's eyes shone. "Isn't it amazing? I wish I saw stuff that intense when I was in college." He pouted, slumping over slightly. "The only cool thing I ever saw in class was when someone proposed to their long-time girlfriend and she said no. That was pretty wild."

Clover winced on instinct at the thought of such a public rejection; but more than that, he just sat stunned. He never had imagined that Qrow could even possibly raise his voice like that- then again, he couldn't blame Qrow for standing up to disruptive, hateful commentary like that. It was honestly for the best to show no tolerance for that behaviour. Well. We know he's a good person, at least.

Still, that video lingered in his mind all day. Who was Qrow? What did he believe in? Clearly he was willing to defend his platform, but the sheer intensity of his approach was so vastly different that to the weary, flirtatious voice Clover had always heard; it was a polar opposite to the lovely, soothing tone he wore during the podcast.

Well. 5PM would come around soon enough. Clover would just have to wait and see.