(So I have the High School AU bug again so I'm working on "We Are Not Alone" again and also spitting out this thingy. This one is a little more fun and only gonna probably be like four chapters of fun cause I feel like it and I was inspired by the songs "Young Girl/Don't Stand So Close to Me" and "Mr. Watson", which are fun teacher/student songs to listen to. I'm a sucker for the teacher/student relationships in fiction… Real life it disturbs me but whatever lol.
You know this turned out longer than I originally saw in my head but that isn't realy a bad thing I don't think, right?)
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Young teacher, the subject
Of school girl fantasy
She wants him so badly,
Knows what she wants to be
With all the charms of a woman
You've kept the secret of your youth
Book markin'
She's so close now
This girl is half his age
Don't stand
Don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Young girl your out of your mind
Your love for me is way out of line
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Oh boy, I just can't wait for history class
It's my favorite hour of the day
My favorite hour of the day
Up on the chalkboard, I just love your ass (mm)
When you write notes it shake, shake, shakes
So when you get back my pop quiz
What will you think when you read this?
Mr. Watson I want to get with you
I won't tell a soul what we're gonna do
Wanna get my hands in your Khaki pants
Teacher, teacher, what you gonna do?
Teacher, what you gonna do?
Cause I am coming on to you
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Guerrero gave a shrug of his shoulders to her question as he took another sip of his tea before answering. "No reason," he answered in that sort of tone older men used when pretty much saying 'you lucked out'. Ames frowned and slouched her shoulders, sitting her tea down. "Oh come on… Why do you ask? What is it?" She tried, sticking out her lower lip and pouting. The puppy dog pout was a little JV on her part, but it tended to get her what she wanted from the boys or Brody. Maybe men too.
He rolled his eyes at her, but seemed to find her attempt amusing enough to reach down into his jean pocket and drag out something before tossing it to her. Ames barely caught it, surprised. She stared down at the thrown object – a small box wrapped in white with a red ribbon to tie it shut – with stunned silence. Her hand trembled slightly. "Not sure what to do with that thing now. Elsie was all excited to get it to you," he said, pulling a loose thread off his shirt absently.
Ames tried not to laugh. Elsie was Guerrero's ex-wife. She'd come into class with their son – cute kid into dinosaurs and cowboys and Indians – and had politely introduced herself, talked privetly to Guerrero, apologized for interrupting the class, before leaving. She'd shown up a few times after that and the class welcomed it because it was when Mr. Guerrero was just as he was now; relaxed Guerrero who seemed far more chill than usual. Plus his son was a little riot, loving to do show and tell with his new toys.
She also tried not to laugh in disbelief over the fact that – out of everyone she knew and hung out with – it was Elsie – Elsie Blake – who remembered her birthday! She worked for her adopted mother so maybe she'd heard it from her but… The fact that she remembered and the fact she actually got her a gift was startling and laughable for some reason. She blew a loose strand of hair out of her face before glancing at her professor before back at the present and eagerly opening it.
Guerrero watched with apparent disinterest. Truthfully he was amused and felt kind of bad for the kid. Her own parents hadn't even said anything to her. Sure they were just her adopted and sure she said birthdays were no big deal, he had a strong feeling – with a hint from the alcohol she had dragged out – that she'd been hurt by it. She put on this tough girl act to cover it up. But she was still young enough to be affected by a lonely birthday. He himself, not so much. Preferred not having anything given to him or to be reminded that he'd be hitting forty soon.
"Oh wow!" She whispered, taking in a quick breath of air as she stared down at the contents of the box. Carefully she reached inside and held up a thin, delicate chain – silver – with a tiny emerald green hummingbird hanging at the end. Just like the tattoo she had on her neck. She reached back and absently touched above her tattoo and stared in awe at the necklace… The hummingbird. She'd never shown him or Elsie her hummingbird tattoo. How…? She looked to him for an answer.
Catching what she was doing, Guerrero sat his tea down. "Saw it a month ago when you were at the gym. Elsie talked to your mom. Figured it would be appropriate," he shrugged and she looked back at the necklace. She felt her eyes misting up and cursed, wiping at the growing tears. The hell was she crying for? Guys don't like it when girls cry infront of them!
"Thank-you… You and Elise both… you shouldn't have." She sniffed, giving him a grin that told him that he'd done right. Truthfully… Elsie hadn't been the one to get the present. Elsie had told him he should get her something, but he'd hoped she would. When she didn't, he found himself in a jewelry store and watching them wrap the thing up after sending a picture to Elsie who'd instantly replied with approval.
She unclasped the piece and – thankful her hair was up in a ponytail – reached back and brought the necklace around her neck, biting her tongue until she clasped it back together. Removing her hands, she looked down as the small hummingbird rested a little to the right of her heart and above her breast-line. It looked good on her, he could admit. He watched her get up and walk to a mirror hanging on one of the walls and grinned wider before turning to face him.
Before he could react, she walked over and leaned down, hugging him. He wasn't much for a lot of contact so he froze at first. Then his nose was assaulted with her scent. Some lavender scented shampoo, the sweet jolly-rancher like smell of the UV Blue she'd most likely been drinking before he showed up, and the faint smell of cherry blossom perfume and lavender soap. Her hair was soft as strands brushed against his cheek and his jaw clinched tightly until she let go. She hadn't seemed to notice his discomfort as she sat back in her seat and fiddled with her new jewelry happily.
"Your wife-Sorry, ex-wife, has known my mom for two years… Why did she decide now to give me a gift when she's never done it before?" Ames asked, a thought crossing her mind and leaving out her mouth. Guerrero shrugged, having relaxed again, though still hit with the memory of her scent still fresh in his mind. "I mean I'm grateful and I appreciate it… Just… It was on this birthday. It has to have been my worst birthday ever… You two couldn't have like known I was all by myself today." She pried, giving him a quizzical look.
He smirked. "We just know things… And we know people." He lazily checked his wrist watch and she snorted. "Oh, yeah? Who do you know that would have known I was alone today?" she tried. "Roommate." He answered simply. Ames pouted. Not what she had been expecting… Well she wasn't really sure what she was expecting but nothing so simple like that.
"What did you track down Layla and get her to tell you?" She crossed her arms, her hand still absently playing with the necklace. It was slightly distracting considering where it let his eyes land… "She was at the school with some dude. Heard her talking to him about how she felt bad leaving you home alone on your birthday. She figured you'd get a lot of calls though." He replied, eyes moving away from that area to her face again. He was gonna come off as some fucked up perv if she caught him. Not that she would. He prided himself in being subtle at catching himself and people. It was why no one could get away with cheating in his class.
"Oh… Yeah. I told her to go on… She did offer to stay but didn't want to ruin her chance for some possible fun… Though her idea of 'fun' would probably be working on computer programs and talking about Star Trek," Ames mused, though with a smile. Layla was a good friend and a good roommate. The apartment had just been her own before she offered to let Ames live with her and get out of living on campus with the psycho Emma Barnes.
Emma was one of those over achieving students going into criminal justice. If Ames walked into the dorm after twelve she'd give her the third degree. It had amounted to loud arguments that their bathroom suitemate Katherine Walters was woken up and had to play ref. It had been a blessing for Layla to let her stay here with her.
Guerrero nodded. "Couldve gone out… Or joined your neighbors," he tried as Ames realized that her next door neighbors must be throwing a party because loud rap music could be heard, shaking her walls slightly. Looking at the clock she was surprise to see it was a thirty minutes past seven PM. They'd been talking for a while apparently. "I could've… But I felt like being a brat and pouting," she answered honestly and he scoffed with amusement.
A calm – well as calm as it can be with Trey Sings music blaring on the otherside of the thin drywall between them and her neighbor – fell between them before Ames placed her hands on her lap. "You hungry? I could try to make us something," she offered, somewhat hopping he would decline. "Judging by the smell of burnt birthday cake… I'll pass," he smirked as she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out childishly at him.
"Alright… I don't have much for cooking anyway… Don't really feel like it anyway… I do feel like getting something to eat… I have leftovers in the fridge. It's Chinese and pasta, though," she said, getting to her feet and walking to her kitchen. "You can have some if you'd like." She reached in her fridge to grab the container of leftover lasagna when she jumped as a hand reached past her and grabbed the leftover Lo mein noodles and a fork out of her cabnit and plopped down at her kitchen table. Again, acting like he lived here.
Absently she opened her container and went to grab a fork. With her mind elsewhere her hand, instead of grabbing a fork like she wanted, landed on the sharp end of a serrated culinary knife. She yelped as it sliced the sensitive skin of her palm. "Shit!" She cried, lifting her hand and turned it over to looked at her palm, which was already soaked with blood! "Shit, shit!" She cursed. She cupped her other hand under the wounded one and made a mad dash to her bathroom, praying that no blood got on the carpet.
"Dude," She heard Guerrero say from the kitchen. But her mind was elsewhere. She rummaged through the bathroom, her hand hovering over the sink. The cut was pulsing and stinging all at once. She bit down on her tongue in pain. It fucking stinged!
She jumped when she felt a strong, calloused hand take her wrist. She turned to watch Guerrero turn on the cold water force her hand under the faucet. Water and blood mixed together, becoming a sickly reddish pink as it coated the sink and washed down the drain. He kept her hand under the water as he found a clean blue face rag .
Ames watched him go to work at moving her hand so the water cleaned off every bit of blood and hit every long inch of the cut. She looked around, hoping to recall where she put the bandaids. Her eyes, instead, fell on the brown wooden door... That was slowly creeping shut. Ah, dammit! "Hey," She tried unintelligently as she sputtered, trying to find her words that wouldn't seem to come. "Don't let the door–" And to late. Guerrero raised a brow at her then looked at the door as it clicked into place. "–shut." She groaned and her free hand slapped itself against her forehead, face-palming her luck.
Guerrero soaked the face rag in water after removing hers before again taking her hand and, slowly he, more gently than she thought possible from someone like him, wiped away more blood as it began to form. She hissed at the pressure being put on the cut. "Got yourself pretty deep," he commented as calmly cleaned her wound. "I can tell…I'm not going to need stitches, am I?" She felt dread swell up inside her. She hated hospitals.
"No way, dude," he answered as he rinsed out the rag, cleaned her hand once more – this time with soap and water – before making her sit down on the the fuzzy covered toilet seat of hers. "First aid is under the sink," she said, recalling where she'd put the damn thing finally. Her brain decided to start working again. He bent down and grabbed peroxide and some bandaging strips. Her free hand gripped the side of the toilet as she waited, knowing what was to come.
He shook his head. "Suck it up. There's a lot worse pain out there than this." He poured the bubbling liquid over her palm and it fizzled loudly, killed the germs and bacteria that had found its way into the wound. Ames snarled and shut her eyes, her free hand gripping at the side of the toilet as she rocked in pain. Owwww! Damn that stings! She was kind of a baby when it came to pain.
When the sting began to subside, he had her cut cleaned up before professionally wrapping it up in bandages, making her hand look almost like a mummy's… But with no wrinkles. "Sorry," She sighed as she watched him wash his own hands of her blood and soaked her now ruined rag. "Shit happens," he said with a shrug. She had to smile. He was always so calm and cool like.
"Still… Thank you." She said, offering him a large grin and trying not to dig at the bandages like she always seemed to do when she had to wear them. "It's cool," He shrugged again. "Let's go eat. I can hear your stomach from here, dude," he mocked and sure enough her stomach grumbled in protest and she huffed.
He turned to the door to open it and she suddenly recalled something very important. "Yeah… Problem." She said as he had his hand on the doorknob. "We can't leave the bathroom." She bit down on her lower lip.
R & R Please
To Be Continued…
Hope you're having fun like myself!
