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Summary: It was Friday afternoon and she was leaning against the same wall she always leant against. Drabble-fic. COMPLETE

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > Buffy-Centered(Past Moderator)FaithUnbreakableFR155436,613105902530,3162 Feb 0830 Mar 08Yes
CoA Winner

Denmark

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Denmark

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Richard as starting to feel like a creepy old man keeping the pretty young student behind after class to molest her. Only he wasn’t old and his pretty young student was older than him and she’d probably kill him if he tried to molest her so he told himself it was okay. Besides, he didn’t have much of a choice.

Not after the almost hysterical call Asher had given him the night before. He’d practically begged the Ulfric to ask the blonde to come by the Circus the following night.

Elisabeth stopped in front of his desk, dropping her bag at her feet like she always did. She was keeping her hands free for a fight, he realized with a start. More than a week after her startling revelation he still marvelled at how he had missed all the clues. The constant readiness to fight, the way she checked all escapes before sitting down in a room. The way she simply stared down people who annoyed her. When two of his sophomores had whispered about her death glare, he should have listened. Even the way her usual Friday ride greeted her, the most powerful first, the omega last. There were so many little signs.

But all those little signs could, if one was obsessed with cutting the supernatural out of their life, also be interpreted in other ways. Ways that did not necessarily make perfect sense, but worked, too. Richard often accused Anita of seeing the devil in everyone and everything, of being paranoid. Meeting Elisabeth Summers had taught him one thing at least, paranoia may not be the way to go but ignoring something because you didn’t like it led to some really stupid mistakes. If he weren’t so determined to ignore everything that wasn’t human, he would have put the clues together much faster.

Gritting his teeth, he realized that he should probably call Anita and apologize for being a stubborn idiot. He hated apologizing to Anita. The woman practically had ‘I told you so’ tattooed on her forehead.

“Should I start to bring tea to these little meetings?” He was torn out of his thoughts and blinked confusedly up at his student for a second.

Then he snorted but shook his head. “This time it wasn’t my idea.”

She gave him a look that clearly stated she believed otherwise. He had called for her to stay behind for the….third? time in a row. There would be rumors if he didn’t watch it. At least the lazy students filing out of the room had left the door wide open. That was something at least. Not that such a simply thing as visible proof would stop the high school rumor mill from letting him and Elisabeth have steamy and forbidden sex on his desk. What exactly had possessed him to become a teacher?

“Asher asked me to ask you to come by the Circus tonight.”

As expected, her eyebrows hit her hairline. “Watch it, I think he’s trying to steal your title as my stalker from you.”

And when had Asher started stalking the girl?

“Funny.” He growled but couldn’t help a small twitch of the lips. “He says he has something for you.”

“And what would that be?”

He shrugged. “He says, quote, I can translate it. Unquote.”

Richard was startled when his student’s head suddenly snapped up sharply, her eyes as wide in surprise as he’d ever seen them. Her right hand moved of its own volition to reach across her chest and over her left shoulder where her fingers started to rub slow circles. Her eyes were unfocused, not seeing him anymore. She was clearly thinking of something else entirely. He wondered what Asher knew that could throw the mysterious and tightly controlled blonde so. It didn’t seem like her to be so startled.

Then, as quickly as her attention had slipped, it was back on her teacher. “Thanks. I’ll drop by there after work.”

She grabbed her bag and with a burst of speed he would have been hard pressed to match, she fled Richard’s class room, one hand still resting loosely on her left shoulder.

There was definitely something rotten in the state of Denmark.

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