[Ficlets] Introduction 2
Oct. 12th, 2010 12:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deegeeakTitle: Introductions
Characters/Pairing: America, England
Rating: PG
Warning: Human names
Summary: This wasn't how he meant to get introduced to that blond at all.
Arthur Kirkland was a firm believer in solitude and tea. His day started with a cup of fine, dark tea, sipped in the privacy of his well-tended garden. It kept going through out the day as he worked on the latest of his manuscripts, aided by a warm cup of whatever special blend the local shop had in that month. It ended with a soothing, herbal cup in front of a well made fire, with a perhaps a bit of knitting or well loved Tolkien novel in hand. It hadn't always though.
As a youth, he'd been next to washing out of school when a strong willed professor saw something in him. Brittany Islander had seen the promise of something in him, and had taken no small joy in coaxing it out. Rather then serve any detention in the Phys Ed health room, she'd convince the principle to let her supervise Arthur's detentions. Before long, Arthur was no longer serving detentions, but rather, lingering after to hear works by Shakespeare, Tolkien, Hemingway and many others. He'd stopped stealing and smoking in order to attend plays with Mrs Islander and her family. They introduced him to writers and actors and he fell in love.
Words became more then mere communication to him. He could paint the skies with his words, create worlds, breathe life into what was mere carbon scrawled on wood with his words.
Words set him free.
With his words he didn't need anything besides the peace to write, and some tea to drink.
He loved the peace of his brick home, and it's thick, well tended gardens. It was close enough to the cities he could get there easily, but far enough away that he wasn't even in a suburb.
He still wasn't sure how he'd been convinced to give it all up.
Actually, wait, no, he knew.
His much beloved mentor Brittany Islander had phoned him up about sixth months ago to ask a favor of him. She needed someone to take over her teaching position as both she and her lovers were retiring in the spring, and she hadn't been able to find someone she trusted to take over. He'd listened and had somehow over the course of tea and cookies found himself agreeing to teach for a year at a high school in America.
"You need to get out more Arthur," she'd said, eying him over the edge of her cup in that I-Know-What-You're-Up-To-Mister look she'd perfected long before Arthur ever stumbled into her life. "This would be the perfect break for you - and perhaps you might find a bit of a muse there."
His words hadn't been there to prove her wrong as it'd been close to four years since he'd published anything. So in the end he'd packed up his house - told his brother if his house was not in perfect shape when he got back, there would be a death in the family, and moved to America.
(He still hadn't figured out why Mrs Islander has smacked her brother Rome when he'd muttered something about setting him up with that Jones fellow. Or why Greg Mania had warned him about enthusiastic chemistry teachers in America.)
Which led him to this.
This was him trying to drink his tea in peace and quiet before having to deal with a bunch of over-caffeinated type A students in the midst of puberty. He no longer had the peace and solitude of his gardens in the mornings, rather it was an over-crowded train and a horrific ride full of screeching canned music.
This was him jumping up in shock, spilling his tea over the draft for his latest novel as the open windows above him suddenly emitted smoke and an alarm started blaring as the sounds of students cheering finished off whatever peace he might have been able to find in his hiding spot over looking the entrance to the school.
(He'd glanced over one day as he walked into the school to see a tall, tan, blond god standing around, chatting to Williams one morning. He lurked around the front of the school hoping to catch a glimpse of his tan American eye candy again, but so far no luck. It hadn't occurred to him to ask Williams who it was.)
Vowing to end whoever it was who'd just ruined his morning - he stormed off into the school. He had a vague idea as to where he should be headed. Williams, the school Librarian and one of the assistants to his department mentioned one day his twin also worked at the school.
As the school's junior Chemistry teacher.
Who'd gotten banished to the far end of the school due to far too many 'accidental' non-planned experiments going badly and setting off some sort of alarm.
Arthur had a reasonably good idea what he was about to see when he ripped open the door labeled 'Jones, Chemistry'. He was fully prepared to deliver a scathing lecture on propriety and generally not ruining people's mornings with over the top explosions.
Turns out that blond Adonis he'd been not-lusting after was in fact one Alfred F Jones, and who was turning to face him, dripping some sort of liquid all over him.
Arthur wasn't sure if he should thank heaven the liquid dripping from the ceiling plastered Jones' shirt to his chest or whimper. Either way, as Jones reached out to introduce himself, Arthur was suddenly rather pleased he'd been talked into coming to America.
His editor might not be happy with the new novel suddenly becoming suitable for those over the age of 18 only though.
Characters/Pairing: America, England
Rating: PG
Warning: Human names
Summary: This wasn't how he meant to get introduced to that blond at all.
Arthur Kirkland was a firm believer in solitude and tea. His day started with a cup of fine, dark tea, sipped in the privacy of his well-tended garden. It kept going through out the day as he worked on the latest of his manuscripts, aided by a warm cup of whatever special blend the local shop had in that month. It ended with a soothing, herbal cup in front of a well made fire, with a perhaps a bit of knitting or well loved Tolkien novel in hand. It hadn't always though.
As a youth, he'd been next to washing out of school when a strong willed professor saw something in him. Brittany Islander had seen the promise of something in him, and had taken no small joy in coaxing it out. Rather then serve any detention in the Phys Ed health room, she'd convince the principle to let her supervise Arthur's detentions. Before long, Arthur was no longer serving detentions, but rather, lingering after to hear works by Shakespeare, Tolkien, Hemingway and many others. He'd stopped stealing and smoking in order to attend plays with Mrs Islander and her family. They introduced him to writers and actors and he fell in love.
Words became more then mere communication to him. He could paint the skies with his words, create worlds, breathe life into what was mere carbon scrawled on wood with his words.
Words set him free.
With his words he didn't need anything besides the peace to write, and some tea to drink.
He loved the peace of his brick home, and it's thick, well tended gardens. It was close enough to the cities he could get there easily, but far enough away that he wasn't even in a suburb.
He still wasn't sure how he'd been convinced to give it all up.
Actually, wait, no, he knew.
His much beloved mentor Brittany Islander had phoned him up about sixth months ago to ask a favor of him. She needed someone to take over her teaching position as both she and her lovers were retiring in the spring, and she hadn't been able to find someone she trusted to take over. He'd listened and had somehow over the course of tea and cookies found himself agreeing to teach for a year at a high school in America.
"You need to get out more Arthur," she'd said, eying him over the edge of her cup in that I-Know-What-You're-Up-To-Mister look she'd perfected long before Arthur ever stumbled into her life. "This would be the perfect break for you - and perhaps you might find a bit of a muse there."
His words hadn't been there to prove her wrong as it'd been close to four years since he'd published anything. So in the end he'd packed up his house - told his brother if his house was not in perfect shape when he got back, there would be a death in the family, and moved to America.
(He still hadn't figured out why Mrs Islander has smacked her brother Rome when he'd muttered something about setting him up with that Jones fellow. Or why Greg Mania had warned him about enthusiastic chemistry teachers in America.)
Which led him to this.
This was him trying to drink his tea in peace and quiet before having to deal with a bunch of over-caffeinated type A students in the midst of puberty. He no longer had the peace and solitude of his gardens in the mornings, rather it was an over-crowded train and a horrific ride full of screeching canned music.
This was him jumping up in shock, spilling his tea over the draft for his latest novel as the open windows above him suddenly emitted smoke and an alarm started blaring as the sounds of students cheering finished off whatever peace he might have been able to find in his hiding spot over looking the entrance to the school.
(He'd glanced over one day as he walked into the school to see a tall, tan, blond god standing around, chatting to Williams one morning. He lurked around the front of the school hoping to catch a glimpse of his tan American eye candy again, but so far no luck. It hadn't occurred to him to ask Williams who it was.)
Vowing to end whoever it was who'd just ruined his morning - he stormed off into the school. He had a vague idea as to where he should be headed. Williams, the school Librarian and one of the assistants to his department mentioned one day his twin also worked at the school.
As the school's junior Chemistry teacher.
Who'd gotten banished to the far end of the school due to far too many 'accidental' non-planned experiments going badly and setting off some sort of alarm.
Arthur had a reasonably good idea what he was about to see when he ripped open the door labeled 'Jones, Chemistry'. He was fully prepared to deliver a scathing lecture on propriety and generally not ruining people's mornings with over the top explosions.
Turns out that blond Adonis he'd been not-lusting after was in fact one Alfred F Jones, and who was turning to face him, dripping some sort of liquid all over him.
Arthur wasn't sure if he should thank heaven the liquid dripping from the ceiling plastered Jones' shirt to his chest or whimper. Either way, as Jones reached out to introduce himself, Arthur was suddenly rather pleased he'd been talked into coming to America.
His editor might not be happy with the new novel suddenly becoming suitable for those over the age of 18 only though.
