Attired in standard faculty robes, Stephen Maturin stands behind a long table at the head of the potions classroom, waiting for the class to come to order. He is in no great hurry, but when one or two conversations trickle over into the silence that otherwise falls over the room, he gives the assembled students a look that raises a "shhh" from the
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"It's good to see you again, Mr. Goodfellow," she said cheerfully, trying to politely divert the man from continuing along what was likely normal behavior for him. 'My lovely Sarah' did not make her all that pleased when coming from someone she barely knew and she knew she would not be the only one displeased if it continued. Of course, that was nothing compared to the other man who had just called her cute quite loudly. But, obnoxious people she could deal with and she would deal with this man if she hoped to be able to work in class today.
"I'm assuming you are Mr. Scott?" she asked, looking Michael over with a careful smile. "I don't know Pam, of course, but I can say in a catfight, I would win." She flexed her fingers a moment at him, grinning a bit too sharply. "Excellent control of my claws to put anyone in place if necessary. In case anyone doubts that. Now, gentleman, should we get started?"
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After an awkward silence, he turned back to Robin. "Sooooo~oooo, by 'at my service,' you mean...what, now?" Oh God, was he another gay? How many gay people were at this school, anyway? Not that this was a bad thing, because Michael loved the gays! After all, if he were gay, he would be the most flamboyant gay of them all! But the thought of Robin servicing him - BLECCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHH! How the heck do guys do that to each other?
Sliding his hand quickly away from Robin, Michael then turned to Sarah. "I am indeed, MIchael Scott...at your service!" He gave her a small bow. What, double standards, any? "Oh, I know you could kick Pam's ass. And that...is AWEsome! And something worth watching, am I right?" Michael looked around at his group members again, expecting an enthusiastic reaction. "Girlfight, girlfight!" he laughed.
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Turning to Robin, he exclaimed, "Good day to you, Mr. Goodfellow! It is splendid to see you again - I have not seen you since your Sorting. How goes it with you, sir?"
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And so, when Michael continued to go on about 'catfights', the Puck's smile became a bit forced. Hell, the Puck had been present at the first instance of a girl fighting a girl and men watching for sexual pleasure. (He may have instigated it, but Robin would swear up and down that they really had been identical twins in every way. Not his fault, really!) And, really, though he'd deny it to his (hopefully proverbial!) grave, the Puck had a wide protective streak when it came to those he considered friends.
"Because I'm quite sure that the only pleasure a woman would be willing to give you would be watching her from the distance of a ten-foot pole, I suppose that to you, yes, that would be 'awesome'," he responded after a moment, his expression bland and his tone dripping with sarcastic good-humor. Tool.
Switching his attention to more pleasant - and potentially bed warming! - persons, Robin smiled congenially at Jack. "It goes well, my dear Captain, though I must admit I have not much been in the castle. I spent a few weeks in the woods and hills surrounding the school. Beautiful country, wild and rolling. Reminds me of how it used to be." Glancing over at Sarah, he gave her a friendly wink - nothing implied in his manner - and laughed. "And I would love to chat with you all day, my friend, but I think that the lovely Sarah would rather we put our minds to task, am I right?"
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"Thank you very much, Mr. Goodfellow," she said, and the approval was for more than just directing everyone toward Potions once more. As long as he did not hit on her, it seemed they would do just fine. "So, is this the first class for anyone?" she asked as she dropped the finished, charmed paper frog to the floor and let it hop off to Lily. Being a lab assistant had its benefits in class, as she was gaining far more knowledge and experience in Potions than most would, but she had no intention of dominating the group... unless they refused to focus. Then she might change her mind as she was not about to do badly in this class!
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After a moment's thought, however, his expression fell slightly. "Buuuuuuuut we're on a break right now." Well, it's not really a break if there was never a relationship to begin with. But Michael refused to acknowledge that part to himself.
"Aaaaaaaand this is my first class in Potions, but noooooot in management, leadership, public speaking, or improv comedy." Michael looked around again, just dying for someone to ask him about the improv classes so that he might have a chance to show off one of his routines.
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Used to delegating duties, he added, "I shall take the bark off the mandrake root and shred it. Mr. Scott, will you be so kind as to grate the nutmeg? Mr. Goodfellow - if you would powder and infuse the mandrake root when I am done with it, that would be excellent. And Miss Williams, perhaps you could begin mixing up the slippery elm." He took up a paring knife which had been conveniently supplied, and began diligently stripping bark off the chunks of mandrake root.
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"So, never taken a class in wit or discretion, then?" he asked Michael mildly. It was a pity - this man was barely even worth insulting.
Grinning at Sarah, he watched the charmed frog hop away. "Who are we passing notes to?" he murmured, eyes twinkling.
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The note reads:
Define 'better'. If it means 'I want to pound my head up against a wall', then yes! I'm having a brilliant time!
Seriously, mate, how hard do you think it would be to turn ourselves invisible through sheer force of will and leave early? Or, barring that, turn people into toads... Do you reckon that would get us detention? :p
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"An accomplice in crime," she murmured back as she picked up the slippery elm, amused at being caught in her note passing. At least the note had been to Lily and not shamelessly to Stephen. Not that she wasn't tempted to attempt such a note when class neared the end, but not right now.
The tap at her foot shortly after, as she was setting to work on the elm, made her look down and grin. Picking up the snake, she unfolded it, read it, and then quickly sent another frog to Lily before resuming her work, this one with the following:
Okay, I'm not quite to head-pounding yet, just wishing I could trade one of the clowns (not evil, just a clown) in my group for you because he is seriously abrasive. What's going on with you that's violence inducing?
Honestly, at this point, I would seriously consider the toad thing. I think in some cases, it would just be returning them to a natural state. I don't think we'd specifically get detention for it - nor do I want detention with whoever conducts them - depending on our reasons for turning people. Let's say it was self-defense, that's always a good argument.
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After giving it a few experimental scrapes against the nutmeg, he glanced up at Robin and said to him, "See, that shows how LITtle you know about wit! Wiiii~iiiit~~~ is something you can't just teach to someone. It's something you're born with. If you could just teach wit, just...hold a class in it...then I would've given lessons to Toby and all the other wet blankets from Corporate Ages ago. LEAdership, on the other hand...."
Suddenly seized by an idea, he slammed the grater and nutmeg onto the table, stood up, and started clapping his hands. "All right, team, gather round and listen up. Huddle, folks, c'mon, huddle, because I~~~ am going to teach you all a little something about LEAdership." Gesturing for his teammates to move closer to him, he continued, "In this Potions class, we~~~ are a team. And I~~~ am your fearless leader, your CAPtain. It's like...it's like we're all on a plane, and I am your pilot. Jaaaaa~aaaack, he's the co-pilot, and Sarah and Robin Gayfellow, you two are the steward and stewardess." Michael pointed at each one of them in turn. It made complete sense to Michael: Jack seemed rather captain-y (but, of course, he couldn't be the actual captain, because Michael was the leader), and Sarah was a girl and Robin was gay, so their positions were pretty obvious.
"Oooo~oooookay, so here's the deal: We are all on a plane, and we've just discovered that there are HUNdreds of snakes on this plane. Sooooo~ooooo, we've got to do something about it. Whadda we do first? Quickly, quickly, we've got to make a decision here!" Michael snapped his fingers frantically at his teammates.
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Pushing the chopped-up mandrake root in Robin's direction, he added, "Mr. Goodfellow, it is your turn now, I believe." He had noticed Sarah passing notes to someone, but decided not to mention it - it was Stephen's place to impose discipline in his classroom, after all. (There was a double-entendre there, if he cared to pursue it, but on the whole he thought he would rather not.)
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All that to say that when Michael called him 'GAYfellow', Robin's expression got very dark. "Oh, that's amusing," he muttered to Sarah. "Millions of years and he's the first one to think of that. Really. Next he'll make some smart remark about what 'Puck' rhymes with." Sighing, he glanced at the new frog hopping away. "Any chance your 'partner in crime' could teach us how to shut this tool up? I mean, this is a magic school, right? There must be a spell or a potion or a roll of duct tape around here somewhere."
"Thank you, my dear Captain," he winked at Jack. "You seem comfortable in a position of authority. Tell me, good sir, are you well accustomed to being on top? Or have you recently worked your way up?" What? He was talking about ships and command posts and things! Smiling innocently, he took the root and began to stroke powder it.
"I'd cut you into a thousand tiny pieces and use your flesh to stave off the snakes so I, and the rest of my gallant crew, could escape," he told Michael mildly, working on the root. Giving the other man a feral grin, the Puck cocked his head. "Did I get the right answer?"
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"Tool? What's that mean?" she asked in a whisper, quietly amused, and drew her wand. "And we don't need my accomplice, I could magically change his outfit to something more... flamboyant if I concentrated hard enough."
Which was pretty much impossible now as she looked up and caught sight of Stephen. Yeah, concentration went out the window at that. 'Must not stare at the professor. Must not stare at the professor. Should probably add stop thinking about the professor naked to this list. Oh, that's going to be impossible with him bending over to pick whatever that is up. Hell, I hope that isn't my frog or I am so much in trouble. I wonder if it could roll a quill over into the aisle and make him pick that up too? Is it time to go yet?'
Fortunately this distracted internal monologue meant she was not paying much attention at all to her group mates at present, so more failed humor by Michael would be happily missed by her. After all, she could work with the elm without thinking, oogling the professor was no disservice to her group at all.
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This grating-nutmeg thing seemed pretty pointless (unlike paper!) - like Home Ec class or something, and Home Ec was totally for girls - but Michael realized it was something he could turn into an opportunity to further assert his leadership. "Yeeeeessssss, the nutmeg. You see, I~~~ am the nutmeg grater, and I need an asSIStant to the nutmeg grater. And seeing as Dwight~~...is not here yet - " Michael looked a bit forlorn for a moment " - one of you will have to fill in for him." After a brief pause, Michael mumbled, "I hope he doesn't think it's Saturday again."
Michael was so puffed up that he completely forgot his snakes-on-a-plane analogy, although he did answer Robin's query. "Noooo~oooo, you DIDn't get the right answer! You canNOT cut up your fearless leader. Who would tell all the good jokes if you cut me into a thousand pieces and fed me to the snakes?" Michael tsked and shook his head as if Robin were a complete idiot. "Certainly not YOU."
Finally, Michael picked up the nutmeg, only to put it down again. "Soooo~ooooo...who wants to hear a good cancer joke? I mean, people say cancer isn't funny, but I~~~ can prove otherwise. Cancer is high-LAY-ree-us."
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"Mr. Scott," he said patiently, but with a slight edge in his voice, "admittedly I am not your commanding officer, but the professor has requested that we create this potion, and as his students, we are required to obey his orders. Now, I have asked you twice to get to work, and I do not wish to ask you again. This task will take you but a few minutes, and then you may tell us all the jokes about cancer you wish."
Turning to Robin, he smiled amicably, having entirely missed Robin's double entendre. "I have been in the Navy since I was a boy, and I was promoted to captain about ten years ago. I now hold the rank of senior post-captain, and hope to be promoted again some time soon - if the wretched swabs at the Admiralty see fit to do so, that is," he added with a frown.
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