Drunk & Disorderly

Author's Note: I know I've been ending on cliffhangers for the first two chapters but I promise you that this chapter will be more satisfying!

If you liked this story, Follow, Favorite, and Review! If you want to see my other works, I have my May Zedong fic "I'll Watch Your Back" still going.

Thank you to /u/bekeleven for editing this chapter.

Chapter 3: Off the Record

Four Years Ago...

Mantle City, Mantle State

District 5, Sector 14 Police Station

"Don't come any closer!"

Winter watched as Mr. Fourrage pointed the firearm right at her suspect's head. His eyes were wild, darting from officer to officer as he retreated backwards, dragging the drunken man with him. Her suspect had his hands up and stepped back with Mr. Fourrage, not resisting at all.

All the officers made sure to keep a safe distance between themselves and Mr. Fourrage. Even the guards from before had refrained from any further action.

"Put down the weapon and release the hostage." Superintendent Hemlock stepped forward, neither his gait nor his voice betrayed any sense of concern or fear. He was not armed, as there was no need for him to be. He simply stared at Mr. Fourrage, who seemed to flinch in return.

"No...No! Don't come any closer!"

The superintendent frowned, a frown every officer in the district was familiar with. A frown that the superintendent would make when a suspect asked for their legal representation. A frown for when a request for a warrant is denied. A frown of annoyance, and absolute contempt.

"My officers are obligated to neutralize any threat to this establishment," replied Superintendent Hemlock. "If you do not comply, we will have no choice but consider you as one."

Mr. Fourrage kept backing away, but the officers were closing in. There was nowhere for him to go. Only a wall remained behind him. By the time Mr. Fourrage realized this the officers had already converged into a half circle around him. He was trapped.

"I'm going to do it, you hear me? I'm going to shoot this man if you don't let me out of here!"

"Citizen, comply!"

"No! I'm not going to follow orders anymore!"

The superintendent's eyes took on a sinister glint at Mr. Fourrage's defiance. If Winter had not been watching the superintendent, she might have missed what her superior had done next. The subtlest of gestures, eyes briefly turning away from Mr. Fourrage and a single nod. Winter turned to follow the superintendent's gaze and saw someone nodding in return. Another suited man, though this man's suit was cleaner, almost pristine. This man whispered to the two guards. They raised their rifles higher, as if preparing to fire, but what were they...

Winter's eyes widened. Mr. Fourrage wasn't paying attention to the guards. Her suspect wasn't moving either.

"Wait!" Winter jumped between Mr. Fourrage and the two guards. A second passed and she opened her eyes, having not realized she had closed them. They hadn't fired, otherwise she would not be in a condition to standing.

Winter looked at the two guards. Because of their helmets and visors she was unable to see their faces, but from the way they lowered their rifles and from the quick commands that the suited man barked at them... They knew who she was.

"What are you doing? Get back!" Mr. Fourrage yelled.

"I'm just here to help," Winter said calmly. She showed Mr. Fourrage both of her hands before placing her firearm down on a table. She walked slowly towards Mr. Fourrage, desperately trying to remember her training.

"Help? There's nothing you can do to help," replied Mr. Fourrage.

"If we talk about what's troubling you, maybe we can find a way to–"

"I've already tried everything!" Mr. Fourrage yelled. Winter mentally berated herself for her mistake. This wasn't working. She had to find a new approach, try to get him to give up peacefully. If that didn't work...she had to get closer, keep Mr. Fourrage talking.

"They don't care about us," Mr. Fourrage continued. "All they care about is their money."

A voice inside her pointed out that he was right. Creating value for shareholders regardless of the consequences. Increasing revenue and profits by squeezing every single worker for everything they had. Burning through them in droves, then tossing them out like spent matches.

Winter could sympathize with Mr. Fourrage here.

"So you feel frustrated, hopeless even."

"What would you know about how I feel?" Mr. Fourrage replied.

"I know you feel hopeless," Winter said. "I know you feel like you've done everything you could."

"So what if I did?" A pained expression appeared on Mr. Fourrage's face. "That still wasn't enough," he said. "It's never enough."

Winter understood that feeling. Not good enough, never good enough, for him. For their family.

"You give and you give," Winter continued, "but they keep asking for more, right?"

"I don't have it in me anymore," Mr. Fourrage moaned. "I'm tired. I'm so tired." Winter could hear the trembling in his voice.

"You feel tired," Winter repeated.

"I don't know what I can do."

"You can let the man go, Guillaume," Winter said. "It's not too late." All around her colleagues had confused expressions on their faces. She was alone in this.

Mr. Fourrage lowered his head and shook it. "No, no," he mumbled.

She was getting closer. Almost there.

"Constable Schnee! Desist or you will no longer serve in this district again!" Superintendent Hemlock roared.

Mr. Fourrage looked up and Winter saw confusion in his eyes. Confusion and then realization. Then anger. "Schnee...Wait. Then you're– you're his... "

Oh no.

"You...you ungrateful bastards. I gave years of my life to your company. My health! And now...now you want to take away my home." Tears streamed down his cheeks. "My daughter's future!"

Winter froze when Mr. Fourrage pointed the firearm towards her. Time slowed to a crawl. Winter waited for the sound of gunfire but instead she heard her suspect's voice.

"I'm sorry about this, pal. I really am."

"Wha-"

Mr. Fourrage's head recoiled backwards as his hostage's elbow impacted his face.

Her suspect moved quickly, spinning around to grab hold of Mr. Fourrage's wrist. He turned it in, forcing the gun out of Mr. Fourrage' hand as the latter shouted in pain. In an instant, her suspect had seized the firearm from Mr. Fourrage. How? How did he do that? Her suspect moved too fast, too coordinated for someone who was supposed to be drunk. Something wasn't right.

As if he could read her mind, her suspect looked her way, smiled, and shoved Mr. Fourrage towards her.

Winter dropped down and swept her foot across the ground, knocking Mr. Fourrage's legs from under him. Mr. Fourrage landed in front of the two guards.

"Secure him!" The order came out of her lips before she could stop herself. The guards immediately complied, picking Mr. Fourrage up and restraining him. They were both victims of habits it seemed. The suited man from before gave her a shrewd look.

"Well," her suspect began, "that was-"

"Drop the weapon!" The other officers had regained their composure and charged at her suspect. He tried to put the firearm down, then threw his hands into the air. It wasn't enough, the man was promptly shoved into a wall.

"Easy! Easy! We're on the same sid-ahhh!"

Winter watched as her fellow officers placed the man in handcuffs and led him away. Something wasn't right. How had this man, who could barely stand not 20 minutes ago, manage to disarm a hostile holding him hostage? She had to go talk to him, get to the bottom of-

"SCHNEE!" Superintendent Hemlock's voice boomed across the room. Where there was once a frown was now a glower. His eyes betrayed barely contained anger. Eyes that threatened to crush her like an ant. Winter turned to face her superior, standing motionless.

"Insubordination. Incompetence..." The superintendent's voice was low as he walked towards her, like that of a wild animal preparing to kill its prey. "If you think your father can protect you from being terminated..."

"Terminated? I think she should be promoted."

Winter heard gasps around the room. Superintendent Hemlock's face turned indignant and he turned to see who had dared make such a remark. That look didn't last long when he saw who had spoken.

Every officer in the room stood attention and saluted. "Commissioner Ironwood, sir!"

The Commissioner of Police, the firm but fair leader of the Atlas Police Force. Every cadet at the academy knew about this man. The only Commissioner to have a seat on the executive council, a leader who preferred to be on the scene with his officers rather than behind an earpiece. During their graduation ceremony, the commissioner had addressed them in person. Imploring them to serve the State with dignity, respect, and loyalty. To uphold the laws of Mantle to the best of their ability. Winter had followed those words closely, letting them guide her decisions on the force.

However, the commissioner's fame extended beyond the police force. Described as an up-and-coming star, James Ironwood was the talk at all the upper class parties during his rise through the ranks. Intelligent, charming, handsome, and above all successful, he was Mantle's most eligible bachelor. When he entered the room at a charity ball, the eyes of every girl would follow.

But that didn't matter to Winter. Not that the commissioner wasn't handsome, he was indeed handsome, but Winter's feelings were that of professional admiration. Yes, admiration and respect. Like how the commissioner walked towards them with a stride that permeated authority and confidence. Or the way he smiled while saluting the other officers.

Oh, he's walking over here.

She straightened her back and gave the best salute she could muster.

"Commissioner Ironwood, sir!"

Make a good impression. Make a good impression.

The commissioner wasn't as tall as Superintendent Hemlock, but his sudden arrival seemed to make the latter shrink back.

"Commissioner Ironwood, sir," Superintendent Hemlock greeted, saluting. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Classified business I'm afraid," Commissioner Ironwood replied, returning the salute with a gloved white hand. "I see I've arrived at a less than favorable time. Forgive me for not giving prior notice."

"I should be the one apologizing," Superintendent Hemlock explained, "for my disobedient officers."

Winter opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself. She stared at her feet.

"Disobedient? Hmm, perhaps," said the commissioner. Winter wanted to disappear right then and there. This was the end, wasn't it? She would be confined to a desk for the rest of her adult life. She would never hear the end of this from-

"But," the commissioner started, "this young constable took the initiative and tried to resolve a difficult situation. Peacefully."

What?

Winter looked up to see the commissioner smiling. He put a hand on her shoulder. "The force could use more officers like you."

"T-T-Thank you, Commissioner Ironwood, sir!" She saluted and stood even straighter than before. Her cheeks felt hot.

Superintendent Hemlock shifted uncomfortably next to her. His face might have been as red as hers. Not that it mattered to her right now.

"Now, for why I am here, I need to speak with one of your perps. Is that alright?"

"Of course, sir," the superintendent said. "Would you want me to escort you to our detention facilities? It would be an honor to have the commissioner–"

"That won't be necessary, if you will excuse us." The commissioner's emphasis on the last word made it clear he wanted to be left alone with...her? Winter felt her heart rate increase from both the excitement and the confusion.

"Of course, sir," the superintendent said again. He shot a look at her. "I expect you to finish the files on time, constable."

"Yes, sir," she replied. She saluted the superintendent, but with less enthusiasm.

Superintendent Hemlock grunted in acknowledgement, saluting the commissioner one more time before leaving.

"Now," Commissioner Ironwood began, "I'm looking for a man with red eyes who was detained today, most likely intoxicated. Do you know which officer was responsible for his arrest?

"Oh! That would be me, sir!"

"Hmmm, is that so. Shall we go speak with him?"

"Of-of course!" Winter was not certain of what was happening, but she escorted the commissioner down the hall where her suspect had been taken through just a few minutes ago. That is, until the suited man from before approached them.

"Commissioner Ironwood, what an honor to meet you! And is that– why it is! Miss Schnee!"

The suited man approached the commissioner first, then shook his hand and exchanged pleasantries. The commissioner seemed unalarmed by the man's actions. Given his position, he was no doubt well-versed in the these sorts of encounters. Yet, Winter could see that the suited man finished with haste, ending it abruptly as if he wanted to move on quickly. Her suspicions were confirmed when the suited man stepped towards her, though she had no interest in the same hollow gestures.

"Who are you?" She asked bluntly, preventing him from initiating that practiced handshake. There was a momentary crack in the man's practiced smile. A frown. Frustration maybe? Winter took some enjoyment from that.

"Oh, where are my manners?" The man straightened his tie and the smile returned to his face. "My name is Simon Duvet, I am a lawyer working for your father's company."

"I see..." Winter said. Of course he was. Winter should have figured that out sooner. Duvet was in his late twenties or early thirties. Expensive haircut, expensive watch. A hint of cologne. He was very much like the other corporate employees that she had seen at cocktail parties and benefits. The ones who fawn over their superiors for a chance at a promotion. He had the same eyes as the others as well. Eyes that were more than just attentive. Eyes that were analyzing for signs of weakness, analyzing for the best actions to take. Analyzing her. It made her skin crawl.

"Forgive me for the inconvenience that Mr. Fourrage caused you," Duvet said. "I did not expect him to be so...unreasonable." Duvet placed a hand on his breast pocket, shaking his head as if he truly did feel apologetic.

"What business do you have with Mr. Fourrage?" Winter asked.

"Ah, Mr. Fourrage has accumulated substantial interest on loans he had taken out with the Schnee Oil Company. Unfortunately, he has been unable to make even the minimum payments. As such, we must now discuss what avenues exist for the company to recoup their...investments."

Duvet spoke in a quick and matter-of-fact manner, any sign of remorse or sympathy was gone. He truly thought of Mr. Fourrage as nothing more than a minor inconvenience. An error to be corrected. A chance to climb the corporate ladder by raising the bottom line, however little. Every word that came out of his mouth made her blood boil, but her anger deflated when she saw the two guards. They were escorting Mr. Fourrage out of the room, no doubt taking him into the custody of her father's company. He looked despondent, as if he had aged 10 years. Winter stood by as the man was taken away.

"Forgive me, but I must be going. Shall I inform your father about our meeting?" Duvet asked. "He must be so terribly worried for you. He would love to hear you are doing well, Miss Schnee."

Her eyes narrowed. Winter had enough experience to know that Duvet was not making his intentions clear. Still, she wanted nothing to do with him. The sooner he left, the better

"Yes, of course," she answered,

"It was a pleasure meeting you." The man smiled before leaving, a smile that made her stomach churn. "Until we meet again, Miss Schnee."

It was after Duvet had left in the same direction as the guards and Mr. Fourrage that he commissioner spoke to her.

"You did what you could," he said. Winter could only nod in acknowledgement.

She continued escorting the commissioner down the hall, walking until they found her suspect, handcuffed to a chair.

"Ah, Jimmy. Took you long enough."

Jimmy? How dare this man show the commissioner such disrespect? Such flippant disregard for status and rank.

"You never change, Qrow. So what was the plan this time? Getting drunk as an elaborate cover or getting drunk for the hell of it?" Commissioner Ironwood asked.

"A little of column A, a little of column B."

So his name is Qrow? That answered one of Winter's questions, but there were still so many. Who was this Qrow and how was he acquainted with the Commissioner of Police?

"Constable Schnee, could you please uncuff this man?" The commissioner asked her.

"Of course, sir. I will go get the keys," Winter replied.

"Schnee, eh?" From the corner of her eye, Winter could tell Qrow was staring at her. "What's the heiress of an energy giant doing in a place like this?"

"I don't see my sister here," Winter replied, unlocking the handcuffs and pulling them off, "so I don't know what you are talking about."

Qrow rubbed his wrists and grinned.

"Knock it off, Qrow," the commissioner said. "Come, we have much to discuss about."

Winter watched as Qrow gave her one more look down before walking away. Commissioner Ironwood addressed her one more time. "I apologize for his behavior."

"Sir, there is nothing to apologize for."

"Nevertheless," the commissioner said. "I trust that you will keep what transpired here to yourself?"

Winter figured the commissioner was referring to the mysterious drunk. She nodded.

"Excellent." Commissioner Ironwood saluted her. "When I first heard you had joined the police force, I did not know what to expect. I am glad to say I am pleasantly surprised. Until we meet again, Constable Schnee."

Winter felt her face glow. "Sir!" She replied with her own salute.

She watched the commissioner as he departed. An aura of authority that was stern, yet fair. Unlike her own superintendent. It was in that moment that Winter knew what she wanted to do. Not a beat cop, or a desk jockey. No, Winter wanted to serve under Commissioner Ironwood. To prove her worth as an officer. To follow his orders, without question.

Present Day

3:34 AM

City of Vale, The Republic of Vale

Downtown Area

Vale Police Department HQ

"Sir, you can't be serious!"

The commissioner raised an eyebrow at her. She paused, stepped back, and cleared her throat. "Sir, I ask that you reconsider this decision."

"And why is that?"

"Because I do not believe working with Detective Branwen will yield optimal results in this investigation."

"I have to agree with the Ice Queen on this one, Pete." The man in question chimed in.

Winter tried to ignore the nickname, though she wondered if reacting to it would further their point.

Winter and Qrow had joined the commissioner in the office of the Vale Police Chief, a man named Peter Port. The police chief wasn't very tall, but his office's boastful decorating more than made up for it. The room was filled with pictures, medals, and trophies. An almost grandiose display of personal achievements. Winter was familiar with the type.

Both her and Qrow had arrived at this office after the...incident. Winter was wearing her uniform now as her trench coat had been confiscated as evidence. The police chief himself was sitting at his desk, a mustachioed face frowning in concern. Commissioner Ironwood was standing to his side.

"You never told me we'd have to work with each other," mentioned Qrow.

"Would you have agreed if I had?" The police chief insisted.

"That's not the point, Pete," Qrow countered.

"If this is about your old partner, I-"

"This has nothing to do with her."

Winter wondered who they were talking about, but before they could continue the commissioner interrupted with a cough.

"We also had suspicions that elements of our respective forces were...compromised," Commissioner Ironwood interjected, he brought a hand up to adjust his tie. "So this meeting required a certain level of discretion, even with you two."

Exchange intel and, if situation requires, collaborate on the investigation.

Those were the orders she had been given. She had agreed to this mission. She had had no reason to refuse. That is until now. To his credit, it seemed Qrow was also unaware of the specifics of the meeting.

"Well," Qrow exclaimed, "how about we get on with the intel you've brought."

She coughed lightly to clear her throat before straightening as the commissioner gestured for her to begin.

"Over a period of four months, the Atlas Police Force has seen a dramatic increase in the number of cases involving illicit narcotics use and possession. Within the same timeframe there has been a proportional increase in the number of narcotics-related overdoses and deaths. These events can be traced back to the appearance of an illicit crystal methamphetamine product previously only seen in the Republic of Vale."

"Dust," Qrow stated, his eyes now focused on her. Winter nodded in reply.

Dust, the colloquial name of the illicit opioid that had first appeared on the streets of Vale almost three years ago. It's name was a reference to the popular method of use that involved crushing the methamphetamine crystals into powder before inhaling through the nose.

"Stricter narcotics regulations were enforced in the districts with the highest incidence of Dust use. However, this did little stop or even slow the proliferation of Dust into Mantle," Winter continued. "Recent developments also suggest that several Atlas police officers are complicit in these illegal activities."

"Atlas officers?" Police Chief Port asked. "Inspector Schnee, how did you uncover this information?"

"I was assigned by Commissioner Ironwood to investigate anti-drug operations in Districts 22, 24, and 37, replied Winter. "Shipping districts that we suspected were entry points for the product. It was there that I discovered six different instances of officers meeting with suspected distributors in private and, in some cases, exchanging large sums of Lien."

A short chuckle from Qrow drew a sharp reaction from Winter. "Well, it seems even you have your dirty cops, Jimmy."

"Commissioner," She corrected.

"Whatever." Qrow turned his attention towards their superiors. "So is that why you're here? Atlas comes to save the day? Figured Vale can't handle its own problems?"

"That is not true," Commissioner Ironwood stated firmly. "Whoever is behind this is more than capable of funding an international methamphetamine production and distribution network, not to mention paying off several levels of Atlas Police personnel. Mantle's security and the health of its citizens are at risk."

"Qrow, I know how you feel, but this may be bigger than we thought," reasoned Police Chief Port.

"Pete, are you really going to let them pass over us? Just like that?"

"That's not what I'm going to-"

"This is my case."

The last words from the detective almost seemed to weigh down as the two officers remained silent. There was an unspoken conversation between the two, something that she was not privy to. Four words that seemed to carry the weight of years.

It was the Chief of Police that spoke first. "Commissioner Ironwood, it might be best if we made a small change to our agreement." The police chief stood up to face the commissioner, though the difference in height was quite noticeable.

"Oh?" The commissioner crossed his arms. "And what might that be?"

"I believe that Inspector Schnee should work under Detective Branwen for the duration of this investigation as a member of the Vale Police Department." The police chief placed a closed fist over his chest. "He has been working on this case for years and his knowledge of the underground drug network in this city will prove invaluable."

Winter wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Work under that man? If anything, she should be the one taking charge. No. Absolutely not. Inconceivable. Irrational. There was no chance that the commissioner would–

"Agreed."

"What?"

"Inspector Schnee, you will be reporting to Detective Branwen and Police Chief Port after I have returned to Mantle."

"But sir!" She protested.

"It's for the best, Winter." The commissioner rarely used her first name, but it was enough to make her pause. "I can't fault you for what you did today, but you need to remember that this investigation is not sanctioned by the Mantle Executive Council. It is imperative that your identity is kept hidden. Masquerading as a Vale police officer will provide you a suitable cover and avoid attention."

"I understand, sir," she managed say softly. This wasn't happening.

The police chief nodded in agreement. "You two are our best and most trusted agents, and this investigation affects both Vale and Mantle. Tensions are high enough between our two nations. Please, we're counting on you."

Their superiors officers stopped talking then, making it clear that the decision was theirs, and that the decision had to be made now. Winter bit her lip, she didn't dare look at the man next to her, lest he influence her decision anymore.

She was the first to speak. "Sir, I am reaffirming my commitment to seeing this mission through." She wouldn't betray the trust the commissioner had placed in her.

Commissioner Ironwood smiled and nodded.

"Qrow?" Police Chief Port asked.

Qrow finally replied with a long sigh. "Fine, but only if you give me back my flask."

The police chief opened a drawer in his desk and threw a silver object at the detective. He caught it, grinned, and unscrewed the cap. Winter's nose curled at the smell of cheap alcohol. Winter watched as he took a swig...and watched and watched and watched.

For the State. For the State. For the State...

"AHH, that's the stuff," Qrow said, satisfied.

The commissioner checked his watch. "It's about time I get going. I have a joint press conference with the Vale President in the morning. We need to keep up appearances, after all.

"Yes, of course," replied the police chief.

The commissioner turned and saluted his counterpart. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Peter. Until next time."

"No, no! The pleasure is mine, James!" The police chief exclaimed. "Will you be heading to the University during your stay? I'm sure Glynda would love to see you."

Commissioner Ironwood laughed. "Perhaps another time."

As the commissioner walked by her, he put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm trusting you. Make Atlas proud."

"Sir!" Winter beamed.

She saluted as the commissioner left the room.

"It is an honor to have you on the force, Inspector Schnee," said Police Chief Port. The man walked around his desk to shake her hand. "If you have any concerns or questions, do not be afraid to ask!"

"Um, of course," she replied, taken aback by the furious handshaking. I don't think you will be able to help with my main concern, however.

This was her duty now. The security of the State. The reputation of the Atlas Police Force. The safety of the citizens of Mantle. Whatever feelings she had towards her new...partner had to be put aside.

"Well, it's late." Qrow said, putting his hands behind his head. "And, we've got a robber to talk to."

That got Winter's attention. She turned her head to look at the detective. He was grinning again.

"Are you coming, Ice Queen?"

"Don't call me that."

Yes. This was her responsibility and she was going to see it through to the end.

Author's Note 2: This was a fun chapter to write since I got more of a chance to really dive into Winter's convictions and motivations. It was also nice to fit in some of the background information for the AU setting. As you may have noticed by now, this version of Remnant does not have Aura, Huntsman, Dust (the energy source), or Grimm. It's my take on how Remnant could have developed if it was more like our planet. I felt that this is a better setting for a cop drama without the cop drama elements being overshadowed by Aura-enhanced huntsman combat and the looming threat of the Grimm. I would like to hear your opinions on this setting and any theories you have about its version of the four kingdoms!

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Leave a review too! New story and all, feedback on what you liked, didn't like, or just your reactions will go a long way towards helping me write better stories for you to read! Thanks again!