Sitting inside of a coffee shop was a strange experience for Qrow Branwen. The casual atmosphere, the smell of cocoa beans instead of that of vodka, and nobody trying to fight somebody else made for a very surreal drinking location. If his life had any excitement to it right now, he wouldn't have taken Ozpin's invitation to come here. No evil-doers or Salem shenanigans going on anymore was beginning to suck, ironically. Aiding in the Headmaster's quest to free himself from Ironwood's debt was the only entertainment he had anymore.

God, his life sucked ass. Maybe he needed a hobby other than drinking. Did that even count as a hobby, though? Probably not, but t was the closest thing he had to one. Qrow started brainstorming possible options as Ozpin rambled on about something related to James. When he noticed Branwen's eyes shift down to the table, Ozpin snapped his fingers to bring him back to the topic.

"You seem distracted," Oz commented, "I'd say you've been ignoring me nearly this whole time."

"Not wrong," Qrow admitted, ready to change the subject, "You got a hobby or something?"

"Pardon?"

"A hobby, Oz. What do you enjoy outside of work?"

The older man pondered that for a moment. "Well, I suppose what we are doing now."

"This? You mean scheming against people who screw you over?"

"I prefer to call it thoughts of reprisal, but yes. That was the entire point of the penthouse experience, after all. Though I must admit, I do enjoy secretly following the lives of my students from time to time."

"So… spying on them?"

Ozpin sipped once from his mug. "Such harsh terminology, Qrow. It is a delicate process, I should have you know. Placing a tracking beacon on Nora Valkyrie was one of my greatest accomplishments."

"How the hell did you pull that shit off?"

"Precision, night vision goggles, and quite a bit of cough syrup."

"Drugging your students now. Delightful."

Casually ignoring that, Oz handed a sheet of paper to Qrow covered in cursive scribbles and terrible sketches. "Now, back to the topic at hand. I've realized that trying to completely avoid repaying James is an impossibility. So, if I am to reimburse the massive amount of lien that I have been burdened in returning, then we will have to act above the law."

Qrow turned the sheet upside down as he tried to make out Ozpin's drawings. Underneath all the ink blotches and coffee stains, he could see dollar signs, a building, and a boxy looking vehicle. "…Does this involve stealing an armored bank truck full of money?"

"Yes, it does."

"Jesus Christ. How many stolen vehicles are you at now, like three?"

"Five, actually. Not counting the RV in the woods in that number. The circumstances behind that one were too murky to reach a definitive conclusion."

"You let a man die so you could steal his motor home."

"And you assisted me in burying him, so his blood is on your hands as well."

Qrow was feeling the bulge of a vein on his forehead right about now. "Oh Christ, we discussed this already! We both agreed that I had nothing to do with it as long as I would never mention that picture you took of Glynda while she was unconscious!"

"A promise you just so happened to break at this very moment!" Ozpin retorted, with a rare occurrence of him raising his voice, "It was not like I was the one to draw a penis on her forehead with a marker either!"

"Yeah, I drew it but you suggested it!"

"It did not stop you from doing so!"

"Because it was fucking funny!"

"SSSHHH!"

Both men froze instantly, the sharp hushing sound piercing them like an arrow. They turned slowly to their right to see a stranger glaring at them, a book in his hand and one finger to his lips. Annoyed by their bickering, he left in a hustle, with Qrow and Oz staring at him blankly as he briskly paced off.

"What… What the hell was that?" Qrow stammered.

"I believe he just shushed us," Ozpin replied, also stunned by the man's shocking action, "What sort of person does that to strangers, in broad daylight mind you?"

"I feel like this shouldn't be bugging me as much as it is, but I don't think we can just let that slide. That bastard needs to get his ass off the streets."

"May I suggest that we put just a slight hold on our current mission and do the right thing?"

"Gladly. That bastard's gonna be getting a mouthful of justice."

Today had been a busy day at the station for the head of the Vale Police Department. Six robberies, one domestic dispute, and a poor cat stuck in a toilet had already been on the agenda today, and it was barely past 5 PM. The exhausted chief of police stepped into his office, wiping the residue of his late lunch out of his moustache before sitting at his desk to meet his latest visitors. The two men were clearly Huntsman, though one smelled strongly of vodka. They didn't seem to be hurt in the slightest; they were more agitated than anything. Upon looking at their names on their police report, he felt an extra weight on his shoulders as he realized who these two were.

"Mr. Branwen and Mr. Ozpin," the chief said, eyes focused on the latter, "I wish I could say I haven't heard the stories behind you two, but unfortunately I have. I'd go into detail, but then that would be a waste of time since you're probably well aware of all the crimes you have committed… and somehow have never served jail time for."

"Surprises me too," Qrow shrugged, "God must enjoy the joke our lives are."

"Uh huh," the chief mumbled, continuing to scan their report, "So, what I'm seeing here is that you're looking for a man who, correct me if I'm seeing this wrong, but a man who shushed you?"

"He was a vile man," Ozpin said, "Very rude. I believe he may have had a gun on him."

"Did he pull out a gun on you?"

"No, but I know for certain he had one."

The contradictions in his story were already showing. "So did he have a gun or not?"

"Maybe, certainly. Possibly not, but he definitely had one. He just did not use it."

This was going just as well as the chief had thought it would. "I hope you guys know you cannot file a report on a man who only told you to be quiet"

"Correction," Oz raised a finger immediately, "He shushed us. Those are two vastly different actions."

"Either way, this does not qualify as a crime. So he better have done something else, or you two need to get your asses out of my station."

Qrow and Ozpin looked at each other in subtle panic. They needed a story, and they needed it quick or else that shushing son of a bitch would continue to walk the streets and terrorize others. Seeing his partner had come up with something, Branwen decided to take the lead. "Actually, he was doing something else. He was… shushing our, uh, cries for help."

"So he was hurting you two?"

"Yeah, he was, uh-

"He was molesting us."

The death glare Qrow shot Ozpin lasted only for a moment as the drunk realized he had to go along with his vulgar claim. The chief could definitely tell they were going full on ad-lib here, but decided to play along regardless. Hell, he needed a laugh today. "So he was molesting you both?"

"Well…" Qrow was struggling to think of anything to say, "You can't… Can't really…"

Seeing his chance to come to the rescue, Oz jumped in with what he considered the best possible way to go with this. "Not both of us. Only my comrade here."

"So he was only molesting you," the chief pointed to Qrow, who was barely suppressing his fuming anger.

"…Yup. Yeah, just… just me. Even though he did touch Oz a little."

"Actually, I got away in the nick of time," the Headmaster quickly retorted. He wasn't going to have his reputation besmirched by allusions of being raped. "His hand only touched my back. Nothing more than that. Poor Qrow on the other hand was being subjected to the most brutal of assaults. Truly he made soup of your insides."

"No, no, no- No, he didn't do that. Didn't do anything like that. He barely even did anything. I shook him off actually. Didn't feel a thing."

"He did bite your nipples though."

"What?! No! No, he may have touched them but he sure as hell didn't bite them. I can prove that," Branwen turned to the chief, seeking clarification for the lie, "Do you want me to prove it?"

While this was quite amusing, the chief had at least 99 real problems to deal with today, and this sure wasn't one of them. "Look, if you're trying to file a false police report, then you can just get the hell outta my office or it'll be you two who end up behind bars."

"...Are you still going to search for the shusher?"

"GET. OUT."