Well, I always have to lose something before starting one of these things. I have officially lost my mind…but seriously, I haven't seen any of my old position papers in a few months and that makes me a little paranoid as well as annoyed. I'm damn proud of them! Oh well. Fic time!

Just a side note. Two-Bit is a little more grown up in this, so if he's not as slap-stick as you would have thought, that's why. So I guess this is based on a true story. Kinda happened to my uncle when I got a little too inventive with a paper of mine.

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns Two-Bit and Mr. Syme. I own the rest! Muhahaha! Ok, enough of that...

On with the show!

Two-Bit's POV

I sat in the hallway and pulled at my sleeves uncomfortably. Rachel always got on my case for doing that, but what else was I supposed to fiddle with? I hadn't owned a switch since the black handled one got confiscated and it wouldn't have been appropriate now anyway. I couldn't think of anything else to keep in my pockets but car keys. They were well and good, but I was too lazy to fish them out.

I sighed and looked down both ways of the deserted hallway. I assumed all the kids were in classes right now, or skipping. I smiled, thinking back to when I used to skip a few hours of every day…but hoped my kids weren't. As a parent, I wasn't allowed to even think about that being ok, but I couldn't change the past. I was always in trouble for something back then. Never once had I been asked to come in to talk to one of my kids' teachers before. I guess I was just a little nervous about it. Anyone who knew me would laugh if I told them that, but I really was nervous. I'd always been the kid in trouble. I didn't really know what I would do with a kid of my own in trouble. It was times like these I really wished I'd talked with Ma first. She'd seen me in trouble enough times. It had been a long time since I had been into see the principal, though.

The last time I had set foot in a school was on my graduation day. It was a long time ago and I didn't remember most of it because I had decided to come drunk out of my mind, but from what little bits my mother and Ponyboy had mentioned, I figured it wasn't that great sober, either. God, was it really eighteen years ago? It seemed like a whole other lifetime ago since I had last been in this building. It barely looked like the old Will Rogers I remembered, but it still felt the same, and I wondered how long I would be able to put off the urge to walk into a random classroom and just wise crack through a lesson.

I sighed and checked my watch again. Why was it that when people like doctors and lawyers and teachers told you to meet them at a certain time they kept you waiting for a while? I was going to give them a taste of their own medicine one day and come late to something, but I still wondered what they did while you were waiting in the hall. Puzzling over it wasn't really amusing, so I started looking at the posters on the wall of communist leaders. One of them looked like my father in law and I had to grin. Thomas Clark had been an old hard-ass CEO that didn't approve of his daughter marrying …what was it he had called me? Oh, yeah. A 'wise-ass, pond scum sucker who couldn't tell his - '

"Mr. Myers will see you now, Mr. Mathews," a polite blonde secretary said, interrupting my train of thought.

"Thanks." I stood, thinking it was about time, and headed through those old familiar doors to the principal's office.

If the secretary was cute back in my day, then this one was a real looker. I sighed thinking back to old Mrs. Applebaum (She was only forty and good looking for forty, but that was old even then) and wondered if she was dead yet. If she wasn't, I would have to go hit on her for old times' sake, if I remembered. It didn't seem like I remembered anything these days, unless Rachel was annoyed by it and made a point to remind me. It was half on purpose that I did forget things. If you'd ever met my wife, you would understand. I got a huge kick out of her when she was annoyed, and I think she was catching onto that because it was getting harder and harder to annoy her these days. That didn't bug me at all. It just meant more fun for me.

"Mr. Mathews? I'm Mr. Myers," the new principal introduced himself and put his hand forward.

I looked at it for a solid moment. I had never shook hands with the principal of my time, Mr. Harding, always convinced of the fact he was old and infectious. And it was just weird. I was in trouble so much that we could have set a coffee date every day…

"Pleased to meet you," I replied shaking his hand and taking a seat across from him.

It was like I was 19 again. I shook my head and tried to hide the smirk I felt coming on. In all this time, they still hadn't changed the wallpaper…

"I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances."

"Circumstances?" I asked thoroughly confused.

"Yes. I'm afraid one of our teachers has found a problem with the paper Christine handed in for her semester theme," he explained...while really not explaining at all.

He handed me a bunch of stapled papers with Chris's name at the top and eyed me with interest. What the hell did he want me to do with them?

"And what's the problem?" I asked the obvious.

"The paper itself is college level writing," he explained.

"And?" I asked not knowing what all the fuss as about.

"Well, it's not common with junior papers."

"And?" I asked again still not seeing what point he was trying to make.

"Mr. Mathews, I'll be frank with you. There is no way a junior wrote that, so we assume there was some plagiarism involved."

"What's plagiarism?" I asked flipping the pages absently.

"It's when someone basically copies another's published works without sourcing it or giving proper commendation to the original author."

"Uh huh?" I asked not understanding any of that, but I was hoping he would think I did.

"The next thought that comes to mind, Mr. Mathews, is that someone else did it for her," he ended.

"Like who?" I asked curiously.

Santa Claus? The Man in the Moon? Maybe it was the midget who was always stealing my shoes…give me a break. Chris had been an A student since grade one, as well as an advanced student (She definitely got that from her mother) and the suggestion of letting someone else do something for her was as foreign as a Polar Bear walking through Tulsa in the middle of summer. I blamed that fancy school Rachel's dad had paid for until he died last year. After that, she didn't want to be there anymore, I didn't want her to be there anymore, and so we enrolled her in Will Rogers. I shrugged to myself. Myers deserved another Mathews to drive him nuts. Just wait until next year when Tommy would be here…Now, there was a kid after my own heart. He talked even more than I did at his age.

"Mr. Mathews," – that was really getting on my nerves – "Would you turn your attention to paragraph three?"

I sighed and looked for paragraph three. I read through it, trying to mumble along to the words, but it wasn't as easy as you would have thought. All these words where about 14-16 letters long and had more 'X's in them than one of my old spelling tests. It was…well, I wasn't even sure what it was. I didn't understand anything in there beyond the three or four 'and's she had added to string her sentences together. I looked over at this principal and wondered if he understood it either.

"As I mentioned before, Mr. Mathews, this is a college level paper."

"I wouldn't know. I only know one person that ever went to university," I replied still trying to figure out what 'Sphygmomanometer' could mean.

"I think you know perfectly well what I am talking about, Mr. Mathews."

I raised an eyebrow at him and flipped back to the front of the paper. Myers looked like he was doing some thinking and I had a flash back to when I had been accused of cheating through a test in my second junior year. I'd written lines for that one until my arm hurt and my fingers got all cramped up, but it was worth it. The guy who cheated off me failed, too. For some reason it seemed like a memory that wasn't that far off after all.

"How many lines?"

"At least one hundred," he said and I figured I must have said that aloud.

"Well, you're not as much of a hard ass as Mr. Harding was," I sighed standing up. "Where do you want me to walk these lines?"

"No, I want you to write them," he corrected. "100 hundred lines of 'I will not do Christine's homework' should do nicely."

Yeah, he thought he was smart. Wait until I got home and sent him over a copy of Chris' transcripts from that preppy school. He would be writing me lines over and over saying 'I should not assume people's children are cheaters just because they're smarter than me' and maybe I could get him adding he was a dickhead in there, too. I shrugged and figured I would get whatever I got.

It was an hour and many spelling mistakes later that I was almost half way done. Myers looked bored to tears, but I smiled the whole way through. If he thought he was wasting my time, I was going to waste his. The thing was, I was enjoying it. The longer I was here, the longer I didn't have to be back to work, and the longer I could pretend that I was 19 all over again. All I needed was Mr. Syme in here telling me that I wouldn't write so many lines if I could keep my two-bits to myself. I'd tell him that I would only stop sharing when I was either dead or my jaw was wired shut. and then I would just learn how to write on a mini-chalk board and that would be that.

"Jim, I've been looking for you," someone said coming into the room and walking right over to Myers.

"Sorry, Ken. I've had some business this afternoon," Myers sounded annoyed and I started humming to myself. "Ken, are you alright?"

"Hello, Two-Bit."

I turned and grinned at Mr. Syme. He was older, thinner and balding, but he was still here. He was also smiling and I figured he was happy to see me, even if he never thought he would see me again. I was kind of happy to see him, too. There where so many wise cracks I had been dying to make all day.

"Hey, Mr. Syme. How's it hanging? Hopefully better than your skin," I added grinning. The guy had to be at least fifty or sixty.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you?" he asked and I shrugged good-naturedly.

"Two-Bit? Two-Bit Mathews?" Myers looked like he was the one seeing ghosts.

"The one and only," I answered. "How many horror stories did you tell him, Stork Legs?"

"A few. You're legend around here. Most of the people who were involved are," Syme answered.

He didn't need to elaborate on what we were involved in and I figured that was for the best. This Myers guy was looking sick to his stomach. I wanted to grin, but it would have ruined the whole effect.

"Did you mention to this bozo that it took me three tries to pass junior year? And another two to graduate?" I asked.

"No, I didn't," he replied reading the writing on the board. "You must be Christine's father."

I nodded and Syme smiled to himself while Myers had long gone red in the face. I was enjoying this too much and even let myself grin. Syme seemed to be amused, as well, but didn't say anything to re-enforce that.

"Christine's transcript just came through," he said, handing it to Myers.

Myers read over that piece of paper from that preppie school and looked more and more…well, I couldn't tell if he was mad or if he was scared or what, but I bit the inside of my lip to keep from laughing at him.

"I believe I owe you an apology," Myers sighed, his face redder than ever, and his expression one of guilt and annoyance all at once.

"I think 100 lines of 'I'm a dickhead for assuming Mr. Mathews' child would cheat because she's smarter than me' will be good." I handed him the chalk and he looked pissed off.

He seemed to be debating between a fight and doing what he was told. He finally chose to pick up the chalk and the brush and began writing on the board. I sat back on a desk and made wise cracks about all the old teachers for a while and asked Mr. Syme who was still hanging around this hellhole. Not many from the days I was here, but it was a long time ago. Finally I got bored and headed home. Rachel had asked me to pick up some milk earlier, so I swung by the store for that. By the time I walked in the door I could smell dinner cooking and smiled even more broadly.

"Rae, I'm home," I called.

"Two-Bit Mathews, you get in here right now," she ordered. "Where the hell have you been all afternoon?"

"At the school. Did someone from the coffee shop phone and ask where I was?"

"Yes," she answered coming out of the kitchen. "You're the owner, so of course they called here when there was no one who could sign for that contraption you ordered."

She looked more annoyed than she had all week. I was tempted to go over there and kiss the daylights out of her, but I knew she wouldn't be easily sidetracked yet.

"So I had to take time off from the clinic to go down there and sign for it," she added. "And I don't even know what the hell it was!"

"It's a fancy coffee maker from Europe. Makes fancy coffee and it looked like it would be just funny looking enough for the shop," I explained hanging up my jacket.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Keith," she sighed.

"Baby, I've run that shop for six years. I know what I'm doing."

I'd nursed the sorry building from a bar to that stupid coffee shop. You wouldn't believe how many college kids flocked there for their caffeine fix. It was insane and it made a hell of a lot more money than the bar ever had. Rachel had suggested the change and I had thought it was stupid at the time, but now I was enjoying being that weird guy who just didn't do anything but mingle with the customers and sign for deliveries and ordered things I didn't even know how to use, like that express-whatsit that had come in today.

"So, how did the…meeting go?" she asked shaking out her brown curls a bit, a sign that she wasn't quite so annoyed with me now.

I smiled at her and told her all about my day. Her expression went from 'yeah right' to 'oh boy' and finally landed on 'I hope you're making this up' before I had even got to who was still who in the Will Rogers High zoo.

"…And then I picked up the milk and came home," I explained actually putting the milk in the fridge.

"Oh, Keith," she sighed. "Only you."

"I thought it was kind of funny." I shrugged. "I didn't even know half the words in there and he still thought I was helping her to cheat."

Rachel wanted to say something more when Chris actually came through the door. She looked more annoyed than her mother did, but it was a whole other dimension of cute. Like those puppy dog eyes people tell me about, but with some temper behind them. Daddy's little girl all right. She had my laughing grey eyes, though, and I could tell that she would be laughing as soon as her mother's temper evaporated.

"Tell me it wasn't you," she demanded. "Tell me that the guy who just looked like you doing lines in Mr. Syme's room wasn't you."

"Ok, it wasn't me," I answered sitting down on the couch.

"Daddy," she said crossly.

"Well, Myers accused me of doing your homework, then he got me doing lines and the rest is history," I answered.

"You?" she was probably going to go on about how unlikely that was, but Rachel jumped in there.

"It was all a big mix up and your father is sorry for your embarrassment," she added using her finishing school charm. "Now, why don't you go and do your homework until dinner time?"

Chris looked over at me and shook her head once more before sprinting up the stairs. I could tell she was ready to laugh and had only put up a cross front with me so she could hold her head up high at school tomorrow. I wondered sometimes if I had my teenaged daughter figured out, but I knew that was unlikely.

"I still can't believe you actually went along with it and wrote lines." Rachel shook her head; obviously more annoyed with Myers than me.

"But at least I didn't do her homework!" I smiled.

Tommy shut the door behind him and looked over at me with Rachel's suspicious brown eyes and my raised eyebrow. I could tell he was annoyed with me too, but him being a boy didn't make it cute in the slightest. It was just funny as hell with him. He put his backpack on the floor and straightened up, carefully choosing what words he wanted to use.

"No, but you did do mine. Thanks, by the way. Now my teacher thinks I'm retarded."

I blinked at him and so did his mother. I felt a smile creep up my lips and I began to laugh. I had been holding it in for what seemed like forever and it all came spilling out in loud howls of happiness. I looked over at Rachel through my tearing eyes and wondered how long she was going to bite her lip before joining me. Tommy was smiling at me and shook his head just like his sister had. I laughed harder than ever and hugged Rachel to me. She started to sputter and was laughing out loud with me. I didn't know how long we just sat there and laughed, but it was nice.

"My mother always told me to marry a laughing man," Rachel breathed out still giggling.

"My mother always told me not to marry a man," I replied. "I should have lis -"

Before I could finish, Rachel hit me lightly with a pillow over top of the head. I grinned at her and did something I had been dying to do all day.

"Get a room!" Tommy laughed.

"I've been trying to get them to do that for 16 years!" Chris hollered down the stairs.

I sighed happily and I knew life didn't get any better than this. And I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!

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