AN: Yeah, you read the title right. I'm sick of the same three or four pairings ruling supreme in this section, so I'm going to write a pairing I thought was quite plausible. It's time to add some variety to this section, people. Besides, you have to admit these two a nice little contrast to each other; the dynamic is different than most romances. It's an intriguing concept.

I own absolutely nothing and make no profit from this whatsoever. Everything belongs to Jhonen Vasquez, creator of all that is good.

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He was never a greedy person.

He never had been. He'd grown up with very little and learned to make the best of what he'd had, rather than pine for more. School and church taught him that greed was just that. It was just wanting things, lots of things, wasn't it? That was what he'd always believed, and in that aspect he was never a greedy person. He tithed, he gave to a few charities, and he didn't spend every waking second worrying about things. He did not hoard objects or money. Yet...

Yet he was absolutely greedy when it came to Gaz. He didn't want other teachers to talk to her. He didn't want other kids to bother her. He didn't want her to sit with her brother at lunch time. He wanted her nearby, where he could watch her, and where she could be at peace. He knew quiet and alone time made for a moderately happy Gaz. He knew he could make her happy and he wanted to. He wanted her nearby, nice and close and protected.

It bordered on obsession, really. The way he watched her, the way he helped her more than the other students. He was her guardian, though she viewed him more like a vulture circling constantly. He had to be the only one she turned to for help, the only member of the staff she didn't call a douchebag. He had to be the person whose presence she'd tolerate even on her worst days. Above all, he enjoyed those moments she brought her lunch tray, kicked the door in, and sat down beside him in the class room. She was his, then. His friend, not theirs. In his head he rejoiced, though he knew better than to say anything and anger her. He knew he was just barely within her good graces.

After a while, he really got greedy. Gaz was the only one he ever called on. Gaz was on his speed dial. Gaz spent every recess and lunchtime inside, sitting near him and quietly sharing the moment with him. He called her, he talked to her, and he drove her to video game premieres. He got pizza with her. She was his best friend, though their friendship lacked any open displays of sentiment on her part. He needed her, he breathed her. He didn't understand why he was so drawn to someone so cold and closed off, but he couldn't make a move now without wanting her to take part.

But it wasn't really greed if she returned that feeling, was it?

Of course it wasn't, he told himself.

Mr. Elliot wasn't greedy.