Disclaimer: I don't own House of Anubis nor the picture this fanfiction is based off of.
"Yacker," a voice hissed with no response. "Yacker!" He tried again.
A dirty-blonde haired American was leaning over the table he was seated at and trying desperately to get the attention of an auburn-haired girl a table in front of him. She didn't appear to hear him. But Eddie knew better. Patricia was ignoring him, probably because they had both just gotten in trouble for, well, having a rather… heated snogging session in the broom closet. And despite being together for so long, Patricia still got embarrassed being caught like that.
"Yacker, c'mon. It's not like we have detention." Eddie pleaded as his table partner glared at him. They were supposed to be outlining the history lesson - a quiet and easy activity for them to do while the teacher floated in and out of the room and graded tests.
"Fine." Eddie sighed. He sat back and his partner looked relieved that his distracting pleading was over. But, Eddie wasn't done yet. He flipped through his notebook and stopped on a clean page. Then, fishing a pencil from his pocket, he scribbled down the obvious 'you're ignoring me,' and then tossed it over her shoulder.
Patricia groaned, hoping Eddie had given up. Obviously not. Against her better judgment, Patricia dropped her pencil and grabbed the folded piece of paper that had just sailed over her shoulder. She read it with a snort, rolling her eyes at it.
'I'm trying to do my work, weasel. Leave me alone.' Her hand wrote, underlining the last part three times before forcefully tossing it behind her and resuming her previous writing.
'Since when do you do work?' wrote Eddie, tossing it back at her. It hit her ear this time before falling in front of her and she made an annoyed noise.
'Since always. Seriously, Eddie. Go away.' Patricia scribbled and tossed it back over her shoulder. As she did so, Eddie caught sight of a few new dangly bracelets on her wrist.
'I like the new bracelets. Dressing up for me, Yacker?' The note was thrown back over her shoulder. Patricia opened it and resisted the urge to smirk at the paper.
'You wish.' She wrote shortly, hoping the lack of response would make him leave her alone. Her attention returned to the book and notebook in front of her.
'You know, you don't have to dress at all for me.' Eddie's mischievous smirk lit his face as he sent the paper flying back to Patricia. He glanced over to see his partner looking urgently at him, annoyance lighting his features. Eddie rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, ignoring the other boy. It wasn't like he was bothering him. The note was suddenly flung back at him, hitting off his chest and landing in his lap.
'EDDIE! What is wrong with you, you sick doofus? I don't know why I even talk to you.' Eddie read as he unfolded it again. He snorted loudly through his nose as he laid the note down on the table.
'Ha! Don't try it. You looove me, Yack-ball.' The folded and now rather crumpled note landed in front of Patricia now. A smile tugged at her lips as she scribbled her response.
'You keep telling yourself that, Krueger. Whatever makes you happy.' Her handwriting was slightly slanted, and Eddie could pick up the sarcasm lacing the words even on paper.
'You know what would make me happy?' Eddie's question stood out on the paper and Patricia pursed her lips.
'Leaving me alone and doing your work?' She flipped the note behind her again and grinned when she heard Eddie exclaim quietly – the paper had hit him square on the nose - a complete accident.
'Funny. No. A date tonight.' Eddie wrote back and tossed it carelessly at her. It was possible he had a paper cut on the bridge of his nose now.
'Ew. Why?' Patricia wrote back. It wasn't really an 'ew' worthy matter, but for the sake of argument, now it was.
'So we can finish what we started in the broom closet. Hmmmm?' Eddie wrote suggestively, imagining the light blush that was spreading over her cheeks as she read this. The note came back with a circle around the first thing she had wrote 'I'm trying to do my work, weasel. Leave me alone.'
'You know you want toooo. We can go down to that clearing in the woods and have a midnight picnic or something after curfew.' Wrote Eddie, flicking it back at her. It hit off of her head and fell onto the ground.
Patricia bent down to pick up the note with a grumble. But, before her extended fingers could reach it, a shiny black shoe covered the slip of paper. Patricia sat back up and raised her eyes to see the old history teacher glaring down at her.
"Miss Williamson, Mr. Miller, is there any reason you are passing notes instead of doing your assignment?" The old woman asked, swooping down and picking up the note.
"Just asking her what page we were on. So, I'll take that back now..." Eddie explained, extending his hand for the note. The teacher now looked down at him distastefully.
"I think we should read this note out loud to the class, don't you?" The teacher chided. Patricia quickly glared at Eddie before looking back up at the woman, her list of excuses failing blank for once in her life.
"But, it's about - uhm, things. Girl things, Mrs." Patricia informed, mentally cursing herself. Why was that always the go-to when she couldn't think of any good excuses?
"And Mr. Miller now discusses girl things?"
"He's sort of a girl at heart." Patricia said with a nod. Several other students laughed as Eddie made an offended noise.
"Hm." The teacher snorted but dropped the note into Patricia's hand. "Detention after school, both of you. Finish your assignment." Patricia turned to flick a rude hand-sign at Eddie once the teacher had walked away and then angrily began scribbling in her notebook once again.
"I have better things to be doing than sitting in detention, you know." Patricia sighed, leaning against the lockers.
"Like what? If you're not in detention, you're battling some evil spirit. And as far as I know, at the moment, we're spirit free. So your schedule is open." Eddie teased. Patricia opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it again - he had a point there.
"Come in." A voice said as a door opened. Patricia and Eddie turned to see their mean-looking old history teacher frowning at them. They walked in side-by-side and leaned against one of the first desks in the row.
"You will be cleaning up around the classroom for your detention. The erasers need to be dusted out and the chalkboard needs to be wiped down," She began, motioning with her hand to one of the last chalkboards in the school and its chalk-coated erasers, "When that is done you can take out the trash and wipe down the desks. And if there is any time left after that, I have some stacks of paper that need to be sorted." The woman finished and Patricia groaned loudly.
"All of this just for passing a note?" She muttered so only Eddie could hear. He stifled a chuckle with a cough as their teacher sat down two buckets of soapy water, rags, and sponges on her desk. After giving them a quick, yet stern, lecture about behaving, the teacher slipped out of the room and left them to it. They decided on jobs and separated, determined to get everything done as soon as possible so they could leave.
"Eddie," Patricia coughed after a while of working in silence, dropping the sponge back in the bucket. "Eddie! Stop!"
"What?" Eddie asked, annoyed, as he sat down the erasers he was beating together on the desk. White chalk-clouds were filling the room from his excessive clapping, which made breathing a bit hard. Patricia glared at his tone – it was his fault they were in detention, after all. Maybe it was time to teach him a lesson…
"You're supposed to do that outside, doofus. I – I can't breath." She wheezed, fanning the dusty air in front of her face with her hand. Eddie rolled his eyes but took a step towards her, worry showing.
"Eddie…" Patricia muttered faintly, leaning limply against the damp chalkboard, her eyes fluttering shut and her body limply sliding down the wall a bit. Eddie immediately lunged forward and grabbed her before she could fall down any more.
"Yacker! Hey, hey, come on… breath, please breath, look, we'll go out in the hall – Patricia!" Eddie urged, tugging her to his chest and trying to get her to walk forward. He felt sick – what if she died? She would die because of second-hand dust-smoke and he would be at fault for it. Eddie squeezed his eyes together and tried to ignore how tight his throat was feeling at the thought of loosing Patricia, tugging her towards the closed door and muttering encouragement and reassurance in her ear. But, Patricia suddenly pulled away from him just before they got to the door, and she began to… laugh. It took his crazed and panicking mind a moment to realize what was actually happening.
"Doofus! You fell for that? Gullible much? Seriously, though, open a window or something. It is hard to breath." Patricia finally slowed down her laughter to motion towards the windows. Eddie only frowned hard at her.
"I thought you were dying, Yacker." Eddie huffed, crossing his arms.
"No one dies from breathing in chalk-dust, loser." She rolled her eyes while she crossed the room, propping open two of the windows and trying to fan some of the dust out.
"Maybe we'll have to test that out." Eddie muttered, walking over and picking up the erasers that he had dropped previously. When Patricia turned back around, he began beating them together in front of her face. Patricia pushed his hands away with a fit of sneezes and coughs and walked towards the chalkboard again. Eddie followed behind her though, still clapping the erasers together and sending clouds of dust flying. Patricia smirked, catching on to his stupid game and turned to fish the sponge out of the bucket of soapy water. Once she had it out, she tossed it at him, and it hit Eddie square in the chest. Soapy, dirty water began streaking down his shirt, and Eddie stopped his eraser-clapping. He looked up grimly, meeting Patricia's eyes.
"It's on." He finally declared and big smiles lit both of their faces. Both immediately sprang into action, grabbing a bucket each and beginning to splash water all over each other and the room. Their laugher and shouts and the sound of water splashing everywhere echoed in the empty classroom as their water-fight grew fiercer over the next few minutes.
"Eddie!" Patricia screeched as soaked rag hit her in the face. She peeled it off and tossed it back at him, slipping on the now drenched floor as she did and lurching forward. Eddie reflexively stuck out his hand to balance and catch her, even if she had just thrown a dirty old rag at him. "Thanks," She breathed, clutching his arm to steady herself – she thought she was defiantly hitting the floor there for a second.
"No problem." Eddie smirked, reaching his hand into his now empty bucket sitting beside him on a desk and scraping some of the remaining bubbles from the sides. Getting a handful, he playfully threw them into Patricia's hair. She slapped his shoulder lightly and brushed them away quickly, taking a step closer to him.
"Weasel," Patricia muttered with a small smile, not breaking eye-contact with him. And, in seconds, Eddie had his hands on her face and was pulling her lips towards his. Patricia didn't even have to think, because by now kissing Eddie like this was a natural and common occurrence. Eddie gently pushed her backwards and she slid onto the teacher's desk, which was covered in water and only farther soaked her skirt and tights but that didn't matter right now. Their kiss deepened and Eddie's hands fell onto Patricia's waist, while hers tangled into his soapy and wet blonde hair.
"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?" Eddie and Patricia jumped apart, Patricia sliding off the desk and self-consciously straightening her clothing. Their history teacher walked angrily through the doorway and Mr. Sweet followed close behind. They didn't seem like they had noticed them kissing, as they were too busy gaping at the classroom.
"We had a bit of an accident." Eddie sighed, shaking his head as if disappointed in himself. The teachers were looking between the two soaked and blushing teenagers and the disastrous, soaked, ruined classroom.
"Accident!? You – you have destroyed school property, Edison, Patricia!" Mr. Sweet bellowed; his face turning a deep shade of red as he furiously motioned towards the soaked stacks of paper and desks and floor. "I expect better from you, but just look what you've done! Just when I think you're getting more mature and responsible, you pull a stunt like this! What would your mother say!?" Patricia looked down, her hand snaking up to her mouth where she then balanced her thumb nail between her teeth. She had a feeling that Mr. Sweet's blow-out on Eddie was about a bit more than just this isolated incident, and that this was defiantly a conversation that Eddie wouldn't normally want her – or anyone else – to witness.
"It's my fault, really, Mr. Sweet. I – er – got mad at Eddie and threw the water on him. I know I shouldn't have, and I'm really sorry, but you shouldn't blame him." Patricia decided against trying to blend into the background. She wasn't going to let Eddie be completely blamed for something she pretty much started. Eddie made a noise of disagreement because he certainly wasn't going to let Patricia take all of the blame for this, either. But before he could say anything, the history teacher held up her hand to silence him. Both teachers were swelled up, looking like they were preparing themselves to give her a good long lesson. But Mr. Sweet clenched his eyes shut and exhaled,trying to force himself back to a state of calmness.
"I think you two should come to my office." Mr. Sweet finally managed, his words slow and measured. Patricia and Eddie exchanged a glance and reluctantly began to follow Mr. Sweet into his small, tidy, dry office.
Mr. Sweet and the history teacher both gave each of them good long lectures, both together and separate, for the next hour and a half. In the end, Eddie and Patricia got detentions for an undetermined amount of time (much like time Victor had punished them in second year for Patricia's night-time antics), were forced into helping prepare all of the schools activities for the rest of the year, along with cleaning up the classroom they had totaled, and doing the jobs they were supposed to be doing in it in the first place. Despite this, neither of them really regretted what had happened today, because really, how often did you get a chance to have a water-fight in a classroom?
Wow. That went from the related notes prompt to something completely different in a few paragraphs and I'm really sorry. But someone asked for more fluff and well, this sorta counts as fluff, right? I'm not entirely sure what fluff is...
So, sorry again for such an off-prompt chapter. I had the first part, them passing notes, saved on my phone for a few days now. But that was too short to put on as a chapter so I added and yeah this happened.
BUT, here is the chapter you guys so rightfully deserve (: I do hope you guys enjoy it~ As always, a billion thank-yous for all of the awesome reviews I get ;u;
See you next weekend!
xGaloshes