Gaussian Function by Saeva; Earthside Challenge

[saeva]

Gaussian Function by saeva
John Sheppard
~ 4,400 words
Summary: Long before the Stargate program, John *still* never sees it coming.
Notes: This was written awhile back but never posted. Just a little rift on John as a teenager for the Earthside Challenge.

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John tugged his bookbag around his shoulder again and smoothed his shirt as he walked down the hall to Mr. K's classroom. He'd timed it just right so that he'd walk in at the time the tutoring session was supposed to start. It was easier that way because then John didn't have to face trying to make small talk or explain why stupid Johnny Sheppard was the one doing the tutoring.

He knew what they all thought of him. It wasn't all that hard to figure out. All you really had to do was sit in classes quietly and listen and you'd learn all the good gossip about anyone. And John, since he rarely talked to anyone, wasn't involved in any sports and didn't really have any friends at this school, was a prime target.

No one bothered him directly, of course, not since a couple of years earlier when the other guys had finally caught up to him in height and one of them had decided that now that they were on more equal footing ground John would be a prime target. The jerk had ended up with a broken nose for the trouble, from a single, perfectly landed left hook, and even the month of gutter duty hadn't put a dampener on the rush of pride John himself felt at that. He could, and would, defend himself.

So they mostly, aside from a couple of the real jerks in school, left him alone, which was exactly the way John liked it. He wanted to get done and get *out* of here. But leaving him alone and leaving him be were two entirely different things and no one, not even him, was immune to gossip. Most days it amused him how off they were, how wrong they'd got him, but today he knew it was going to be awkward.

If only Mr. K's wife hadn't been having trouble with her pregnancy he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place, getting asked to cover two tutoring sessions a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, for his favorite teacher. He wouldn't even have said yes, no matter how much it made the sisters glow at him and smooth his hair down in silent approval of what a good boy he was (and that was the ticket to getting to do what he wanted more often if there was one), if it hadn't been Mr. K asking.

As it happened he'd barely managed to get a nod out and flee the classroom before he'd cursed himself for agreeing anyway. He didn't even know who he'd be tutoring. So here he was. Standing outside of Mr. K's classroom and wishing he could go back to last week and blurt out "No," instead of "Yes." But he'd given his word and John wasn't about to break it, not when Mr. K was counting on him.

Plus it made him feel good that Mr. K thought he was the only one for the job, that he could be trusted with it.

Right... He couldn't just stand outside the door forever. For one, he was supposed to help make dinner tonight and so he only had a limited amount of time here. And for another, eventually the person he was tutoring would come out looking for him. Then he'd look like a real doofus.

So... He was going inside any minute now. Any minute.

He sighed and reached out to pull open the door. This couldn't be any harder than mowing Mrs. Johnson's lawn back home had been, when she had those stupid lawn gnomes out. More than one of the torturously ugly things had almost died ignominious deaths at the hands of law mower blades.

Ignominious. Gnomes. Heh. He snickered to himself a little; that was such a great SAT word. Cheered slightly, John pulled open the door and stepped inside, just a few seconds late by the big clock on the front of the classroom.

It was Lauren Fitzpatrick sitting in the chairs waiting for him. It took a few seconds for John to himself to breath and a few seconds after that before he started moving again, into the classroom, as Lauren looked at him with those bright, ridiculously pretty green eyes of hers. They'd always attracted his attention because her skin was too dark to have eyes like that -- they seemed like they belonged on a blonde, someone like Terri Henderson, one of Lauren's friends, not a girl with dark brown skin.

Her face tilted up as she looked at him. "Are you here for tutoring with Mr. Klein too?" John realized she had a notebook and her math text spread out on a desk in front of her; she'd obviously been trying to study before he came in.

"Uh. Tutoring. Yeah, I'm here for tutoring." And his brain was going to start working any second now, really. Right. Think of something to say. There was something to say, what was it? Oh! "Mr. K.. Klein's not going to be here today. Mrs. Klein had to go to the doctors again because of complications with Stephanie. Uh, the baby. The baby they're having is named Stephanie. There's complications."

Lauren frowned a little. "Did he say who would be tutoring us? Will his wife be all right?"

"Mrs. Klein's been pretty sick but I think she's going to be fine. I hope so." He really, really did. He knew how much it sucked to -- John shut that thought down and smiled at Lauren before the rest of her statement caught up with him. Uh, wait! "No, that's not what I'm here for tutoring for. I'm here to tutor you." And he'd graduated to full sentences. Rock on.

"Oh!" Her mouth was a very pretty, very pink "O" shape as she said it.

And John had a feeling he was staring so he dropped his eyes, moving over to a desk nearby her -- they had to be close if he was going to tutor her -- before glancing over at her open book. This wasn't the book he was using, though he had a copy provided for by the school. "So, you're working on polynominal functions. Cool. Easy stuff."

"Easy?" She shook her head. "Even Mr. Klein can't make them easy."

He laughed a little, tugging the book closer to him, and pointed. "It really is pretty easy. All you have to do is..." And then he was off, explaining the way the variables worked and how the goal was pretty basic: always get back to zero. Once you had that figured out polynomial functions were a snap.

Lauren listened to him as he talked, chewing on the stub of her eraser and leaving little bite marks on her pencil before trying to solve one of the problems in the book. "You're really good at this."

And that was horribly wrong. Apparently he wasn't very good at explaining it, even if he could do it. Half-asleep.

"Wait, wait," he stopped her and pointed to the step where she'd gone wrong. "You need to slow down here. You see how you started out with all your terms on one side and zero on the other?" Lauren nodded, staring at the notebook. "After you've done that, factor out any common factors. Like here," he pointed, showing her. "Eight is a common factor, so you can pull that out."

She chewed on the pencil some more, thinking about it, and tried again. "Oh. Oh, this is easier."

John grinned a little, sitting up in his seat so that he wasn't practically leaning on top of her so much now that he'd pointed out how things went more or less, and watched her work through another couple of problems. Lauren bit her lip as she worked, inbetween chewing on the pencil, and he found himself watching the way her tongue darted out to lick her lips every time she did.

And if the seat was getting a little uncomfortable he ignored it because they were at school and the door was open and Sister Maria could walk in at any moment and John was *sure* that she knew when he was thinking things like that from the way she glared at him suspiciously. Which, while he wasn't sure about the power of God, he was dead certain about those of nuns and he really, really didn't want to get caught staring at Lauren Fitzpatrick's lips. By anyone. But especially Sister Maria.

Thankfully, Lauren set the pencil down on the paper and started working on the first problem. John pointed out spots where she was going wrong and helped her correct them until they'd reached the solution.

In about twice the time it would take him on a bad day while he was sleepwalking. "And then you use the quadratic formula here, because there's no more roots to the equation," he finished.

"Oh. I see."

Except for the part where it was clear she didn't they were making progress. John smiled anyway, nodding, and went over the steps one more time. No one could actually be this dumb at math -- he just wasn't explaining it well. He tried explaining it using a practical example, something she might be able to understand immediately, and that seemed to help, because her expression brightened a little and she was nodding along with his explanation.

And chewing on the pencil again. He could see, when she pulled the pencil away for a second to scratch something out, where old teeth marks were and he wondered how he'd never noticed that she chewed on pencils before. Especially since he couldn't seem to stop noticing it now.

At least they seemed to be making progress, even if it was only a little bit. And, as it turned out, only for a little bit because after twenty minutes of going over monomials Lauren was twisting in her seat and glaring at the page in frustration.

"Can we take a break?"

"Oh. Sure." He glanced up at the clock and nodded. "Sure. Do you want something to drink?" He knew where Mr. K kept his cups.

She smiled at him brightly and nodded, looking relieved when she pushed the math book away. John could tell that it was just to get out of doing more homework problems but he wasn't going to say anything about that. They bored him too; he couldn't imagine what it'd be like if he didn't understand them *and* they bored him. "Thanks," she said, still smiling at him.

John smiled back at her and went over to Mr. K's desk, fishing out the coffee mugs that always seemed to end up in his bottom drawer. "Water okay?" The fountain was only just around the corner.

"Mhmm." He tried not to look at her mouth as she made *that* sound. "Thanks for doing this. Since Mr. Klein couldn't."

"Oh. Sure." He had to look like a doofus standing here smiling dumbly at her. At least he -- Oh, Mary Mother of God, he was getting there. John beat a hasty retreat out of the classroom with two mugs, hoping she wouldn't notice his pants.

Hoping Sister Maria wasn't out patrolling the hallways because that would be really, really embarrassing and probably end up with required confession and he couldn't picture admitting to that, not outloud. No way.

Thankfully, so very thankfully, she wasn't and he made it to the water fountain undisturbed.

It gave him plenty of time to *not* think about Lauren Fitzpatrick's pretty mouth and fill up the mugs with water. Then dump the water. And fill them up again. By the time he'd done it a third time he had actually managed to stop thinking things sure to get him sent to confession and was feeling pretty proud of himself as he casually, okay kind of sort of casually, made his way back to the classroom.

Lauren had stood up and gone to one of the windows to look outside at the fine weather wistfully.

She had great knees.

"Here's your water," he blurted out.

"Thanks... John. John, right? You don't like Johnny." And a great smile. A great smile that was getting closer to him, where he was rooted on the spot just inside the doorway. "Derek just calls you that to be an ass, you know."

He nodded at her and carried the mug over. "Yeah. John." And his ability to think before he spoke was starting to come back. Score! He even managed the next bit without sounding like a complete moron. "Derek is an ass." And please, please don't let any of the sisters be behind him, standing in the doorway, hearing that.

Lauren laughed and took the mug, her fingers touching his lightly. "Sometimes. Just because he's the captain of the football team, he thinks it's required or something."

Now would be a great time to be holding a book, or have baggier pants, John thought to himself as he tried to casually find a place to sit and a desk to hide what was undoubtedly going to be really embarrassing otherwise. "Ready to go back to work on the math?"

She made a face at her book and even that was pretty, he noticed. "Do we have to quite yet? I'm enjoying talking to you. I don't know why you don't do more talking in school -- everyone thinks you're dumb, you know."

John tried to shrug it off like he didn't care. Which should have been easier than it was, because he didn't care normally, but somehow, when Lauren asked and made it seem like he should care, he did. "School's boring. Mr. K has me doing other stuff in class, but most of the other teachers don't."

The corners of her mouth tugged down a bit, into a small frown, and she ended up tilting her head. "So, you're just bored?" When he nodded she added, "Why don't they move you up a grade? I know they can do that."

He already was up a grade on everyone else, but John didn't tell her that. "No point. I'm not rushing."

Her expression smoothed out a bit as she replied. "Oh. I thought maybe it was because you don't get along well with others. Like, not mature enough or something. They wouldn't want to move you up then."

"Nah. No one's asked." John sipped his water. He kept his grades solid As and Bs. He needed them for what he wanted to do, but getting to college faster wasn't going to help. You couldn't be a fighter pilot until you were eighteen regardless of how smart you were. And once he was finished with high school he wasn't sure if he'd still have a place to live because he'd never got around to asking. Not that he thought he'd be kicked out or anything but there had to be rules about that.

It didn't matter. High school was fine. Boring, but fine.

The room went quiet after that and he wondered if he'd said something wrong, though he couldn't think of what. Still, who knew what went through girls' heads.

"Thank you for doing this, John. You make it easier to understand than Mr. Klein does. You're really good at math."

"Uh, thanks. It's not like I had anything else to do." That didn't make him sound like a loser or anything. "I mean, more important."

At that Lauren laughed, a low, amused sound that went straight to his groin and made him very, very thankful for the desk above him. She had such a nice laugh -- and, oh god, he was mooning over a laugh!

This was pathetic.

"I appreciate it. I'm sure Mr. Klein does too." She was smiling and her green eyes were crinkled, making them stand out more. "What are you doing afterward?"

"Uh." When he tried to swallow his throat was dry so he took another drink of water. It didn't help. "I have chores tonight," he said finally.

"Oh, too bad. I was going to buy you a burger. As thanks."

Damn! That would have been nice but he couldn't just... "Thanks anyway. But I really have to go help with dinner. Not that I can cook. But it's my night to help anyway."

She looked back over at the math book and made a cute little face. "Will Mr. Klein be back on Thursday?"

"Oh, um, no. I mean, he'll be here but --" John swallowed again. "He asked me to take over your tutoring for a couple of weeks, maybe a month. So that he could have more time with Mrs. Klein." He'd even invited John over for dinner one night as a thank you, which John thought was nice.

"Thursday, then?" she offered. "I do it for Mr. Klein too. Sort of." She giggled. "I just bring him chocolate cake to eat at lunches."

"Thursday. I'll have to ask... Can I tell you tomorrow?"

"Sure." She grinned at him and nodded. "Your parents sound really strict."

John held back a wince out of long done practice and nodded at her with a slight smile of his own. "Yeah, I guess you could say they're strict. You get used to the rules though." He had to, they followed him through the day. From school to home to bed, the rules were pretty much the same and it was easy enough to follow them, once you got the hang of it.

He thought he'd have a pretty good time adjusting to the Air Force, at least.

"How about we try and tackle pol --" he started, but his question was cut off by the sudden appearance of Sister O'Malley in the doorway. She had one hand on her chest, which was heaving largely under the habit she wore, and was looking at him with an expression between fondness and annoyance, which was pretty normal for her at least. He was only really in trouble if she looked all annoyed.

"John! There you are. I knew you had to be here somewhere but no one told me what you were staying after for," she tsked, whisking her way into the room with the stomp she had perfected. "I was hoping that you could pick up a few things tonight before dinner, just some vegetables and the sort for dinner. You'll be a good boy and do that, won't you?" As if she didn't doubt it she was already bringing out the list and John wondered, vaguely, if it was possible to disappear into the floor.

But then he reminded himself he didn't care what people thought of him, not at all, least of all Lauren Fitzpatrick, and steeled himself to answer.

"Yes, ma'am," he told her, like she knew he would and got up to collect the list, keeping his hands together in front of his pants. Just in case. "I can do that."

Lauren was watching the scene with wide eyes.

"That's a sweet boy," the sister replied, ruffling his hair just a little, unphased by the look he was giving her. "I'll tell Sister Anne you'll be a little late for supper, don't you worry." And now, finally, she seemed to notice that he wasn't alone and she turned an appraising eye on Lauren. "Miss Fitzpatrick. I trust John here is helping you with your studies."

John had had an aunt like Sister O'Malley once, from the time Before, who'd smothered him with kisses and pinches on the cheek and been convinced that he would absolutely love her Miniature Pinscher Sir Edward. It'd turned out he was allergic to dogs.

"Yes, Sister. He's been very helpful," Lauren said quickly. "He explains the equations very well." She smiled sweetly and made a show of working on her problems.

So at least she was looking down when Sister O'Malley ruffled his hair again and then tried to, unsuccessfully, smooth it down. With a tsk she let it go and patted him. "Good, good. I'm glad this is working out. Mr. Klein knew you could do it, John."

He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left and then back again. "Yes, ma'am. I'm glad I could help." And, mercifully, she'd apparently embarrassed him enough so with a final pat to his shoulder she left, humming jovially as she went. Jovial. That was another good SAT word.

"You live at the orphanage?" Lauren asked softly, as soon as Sister O'Malley was gone.

"Told you my parents were strict," he replied easily, settling back down again in his chair. The grocery list was still bunched in his hand and he smoothed it out, trying to decipher Sister O'Malley's loopy scrawl.

"I'm sorry. About your parents."

He didn't want her to be sorry. Everyone was sorry. He was sorry. The sisters were sorry. Even his fucking -- John took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Thank you." That was gracious. He was supposed to be gracious.

She looked down at her book and seemed uncomfortable. "So, how do you do this problem? It's where you apply the Descartes thing, right?"

"Right." Math. That was simple and easy and good. He could explain math.

She gave him a quick smile and started working out the problem on her own, only needing a little prompting from him. "Are you still going to ask about Thursday?"

"Yeah. Of course. I mean -- Unless you're taking the invitation back." Which she might. People tended to get uncomfortable when they knew about his parents.

She shook her head, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. "Nope."

"Okay. Cool. I think I can convince Sister Anne into it." He grinned a little. "She likes me."

Lauren looked a little surprised by the grin but quickly returned it. "I'll bet."

"And it's not bad or anything. Living there. It's even kind of fun sometimes, like having a big family. I was an only child before so it's different, but I don't mind."

She made her cute face again, very nearly wrinkling her nose in the process. "I wish. I have two younger sisters at home and I always get blamed for the things they do because I'm older and should be responsible."

John guessed that was true. He was always being asked to watch after one boy or another, or help someone with homework, or sometimes being question why he didn't stop one of them from doing something stupid. Which they did constantly, almost, but he remembered being nine and he'd been pretty dumb at nine himself. "Guess I might feel different if they had someone else to watch out for them. A guy, I mean, not that the sisters aren't great." But the only guy in the house was Father Edwards and you really, really didn't want to see him.

She thought about that and nodded. "That makes sense. I just wish my mother would see it that way." She laughed again.

"Look at it this way. If you get to them now when they get older they're more likely to side with you -- You'll have numbers on your side."

"You really love math, don't you, John?" she grinned.

No, not really. It just came easy to him. There was a difference. "Not one of my favorite things, no."

"That's strange. You're so good at it, you even think in math terms." She giggled. "Numbers on my side. They're never on my side."

"You probably yell at them," he pointed out. "I wouldn't side with someone that yelled at me either." At least unless he was being a total idiot and deserved to be yelled at. That was different.

"I meant numbers, silly."

"Oh. Right." Numbers. They should get back to them. "Yeah. What were we on again?"

"Problem five," she supplied. "It's the last one of the homework. I don't usually have it done until Thursday!" She seemed really excited about that.

John thought that was sort of weird because he'd usually have his done, the ones from the Calculus book Mr. K had let him borrow, done in class. He knew Mr. K suspected that but he'd never pushed it, like he didn't push John to actually move up into Calculus, something he appreciated. Still, he could figure out what he was supposed to say here at least. "That's good. Great, Lauren. I guess once we're done with this you can go."

She gave him a huge smile in return and looked down at the problem, concentrating. And the frustration of the next ten minutes, trying to get her through a problem that should have taken two at most, was totally worth that smile and the hug she gave him afterwards as she grinned. "I can't believe I understood that!" she squealed happily, pressed against his chest. Her hair was tickling his neck.

He patted her shoulders awkwardly and tried not to let anything of her touch anything of his lower than the chest. "It's all in the way you look at it."

Lauren giggled a little, leaning in. "Yeah, but I never looked at it this way with Mr. Klein. You must be a good teacher." Leaning in and her chest was pressed against his even as she tilted her head up to kiss his cheek. "Sister O'Malley is right, you're so sweet."

He felt his neck start to get hot and smiled at her, hoping he wasn't completely red. "Thanks. You're easy to teach."

Finally she pulled away and John almost sighed in relief, shifting until he was sure she wouldn't be able to see the front of his pants. Even then she giggled again, teasing him for blushing lightly.

Lauren was still smiling at him as she started to pack her things away into her bag. "Thanks, John. This was fun. Mostly. I'm looking forward to Thursday."

"Cool." And as soon as she left he could -- Well, he wasn't sure what he'd do but it was bound to be less embarrassing.

"Bye!" She waved cheerfully at him and headed for the door, the hem of her skirt flouncing around her knees.

John gave her a half-hearted little wave in return and, as soon as she was out of the door, banged his head against the desk once, hard. Stupid. And he still had the shopping and going home to the sisters and the boys. With *that* in his pants. This was not going to end well.

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