*Friday, 7th period*
"Is," Richie repeated. "Well, you're right, but why?"
His student looked back up at him and thought, "Because the subject is singular?"
"Are you asking me, or telling me?" Richie asked, adding 'Man, I sound like Mac' to himself.
"Um, telling?"
He smiled, "You're right," he turned to address the rest of his class. "Give me more singular subjects."
"Me!" somebody called out.
"Okay, more."
"Dog."
"Sally."
"He."
"Floor!" the class snickered.
"No, Kyle has a point. To be the subject it doesn't have to be a person or animal, it can be a place or object. Floor is a perfectly acceptable answer," he paused. "Okay, so are you ready for the exception to the rule? It's you." He pointed at Ashley, one of the many freshman girls that made up the first three rows of his class. Richie smiled as she giggled and blushed at his actions. Whenever he was in front of his classes he couldn't help but feel like Harrison Ford when he was teaching in Indiana Jones. The promise of sodas and food brought boys into his class, while the cute teacher attracted the girls. "Don't worry it's not you specifically, its 'you' the word. If I saw someone and thought that they were the most hideous, vile, disgusting looking thing on Earth. . . how would I tell them?"
"Carver, you ugly," a boy said to the boy sitting next to him. The class laughed appreciatively.
"You forgot the verb," Richie corrected. "It would be Carver, you ARE ugly."
"But Carver is a singular subject," a girl protested.
"Yup," Richie nodded. "That's why English is so friggin' hard to learn. There's always at least one exception." He stopped and looked toward the door with an expectant look on his face, nobody was there.yet. "I are going out into the hall," he said opening the door. "What's wrong with that sentence and give me three ways to correct it. No killing, no mass destruction, and no wild orgies while I'm gone." He closed the door behind him.
His classroom was at the end of the hall so he leaned on the wall casually looking straight ahead. After a few seconds two men rounded the corner and stopped, their eyes resting on Richie. He gave them a slight nod in greeting and kept his arms folded over his chest as the men strode toward him.
"What, no hello?" Duncan asked.
"Nope," Richie shook his head. "I'm mad at you. Hey, Adam, what's up?"
"Wait what did I do?" Duncan asked.
"You're doing that whole telling me what to do thing again."
"You're still pouting over that?"
"No, I just started. What would be the point if you weren't around to be annoyed by it?"
Adam smiled, "Now I remember why I let you live. You amuse me by annoying MacLeod. . . do you really have a refrigerator in there?"
"I amuse you?" Richie raised an eyebrow. "But, yeah, I do, have a fridge that is. . ." He turned around and peered into the room. "I should really get back in there. What do you guys want?"
"You willingly in school? I've waited a hundred years to see this," Duncan replied.
"So, is that your way of telling me you're sticking around?" Richie asked. Duncan nodded and Adam grinned. "There's no way I'm going to talk you out of this, is there?" Duncan shook his head. Richie sighed, "Fine, fine. I was loosing their attention anyway." He opened the door and started yelling over the class. "Hey! Yo! Shut up or I'm bringing out the CDs!" The class quieted. "They hate my music," Richie explained to Duncan.
"So do I," Duncan mumbled under his breath.
"There's no beer in here," Adam announced from behind the refrigerator door.
"No duh," Richie replied. He took a pen off his desk and threw it, grinning at the satisfying clunk it made when it hit Adam. "Get out of there." The boys laughed, but the girls were too busy staring at Duncan to notice Richie's antics. "Turn around or something, I think they want a better look at you." Richie looked at the clock when the bell rang announcing the end of class. "Go away, I don't want to see or hear from any of you until Monday. And if I do, there'll be a test!" He called at the retreating teenagers.
"You in school. . . a teacher no less, I still can't get over it," Duncan smiled shaking his head. "Expecially after all the complaining you did during college."
"It's not so bad when you get to make up the tests instead of taking them," Richie shrugged. "Now what are you doing?" He asked looking at Adam who was wondering around the room peering behind everything.
"Where's your sword?"
"Home," he turned his attention back to Duncan. "So I take it you couldn't get Jaesin within twenty miles of this place on her day off?" he asked loading un-graded papers into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
"She's not feeling well, so we dropped her off at the cabin before we came."
Richie made a face, it had been a couple decades since he had been sick, but what he remembered of it wasn't pleasant. "What's wrong?" he asked not able to keep the concern out of his voice. Jaesin was his little sister, in all ways that counted and as far as the public was concerned.
"I'm not sure. Her stomach's been bothering her for a couple days. I think maybe she ate something."
"Or. . ." Richie prompted with a smile. Duncan furrowed his brow in confusion.
"He's got a good point, MacLeod. How old is Jaesin?" Adam asked returning to the refrigerator for a soda.
"She's twelve," Duncan answered, still not quite sure what Richie and Adam were talking about.
"And a girl," Richie added. "I think Amanda might want to have a talk with her tonight."
. . . . . .
Richie pulled his vintage Land Shark beside Duncan's SUV. He had been expecting Amanda to already be there, since he had gone home after school to pick up a few things but she wasn't. He only felt one other immortal there, and since Duncan's car was the one there he figured Adam had gone to pick her up from the airport.
Hans leapt out of the convertible as soon as it pulled to a stop and Fritz scrambled to follow, undoubtedly to find Jaesin, as far as the dogs could tell a trip to the island meant Jaesin. . . and endless pampering.
"Hey!" Richie called. "Get back here!" He jogged after them leaving his bag in the car. Fritz immediately turned back around and bounded towards Richie jumping around his legs. He picked up the small dog and tucked it under his arm like a football. "Hans! Hey, ya dumb mutt stop whatever it is you're doing, because I'm the one that's going to get yelled at!"
"Hey, Richie," Duncan greeted opening the door to let Hans in. "I'd stay away from Jae, she's a little moody right now."
"Richie!" a young girl's voice squealed. "Get your dumb dog off me!"
"I'm telling you, Mac, she's cranky and her stomach hurts. . . our little girl is turning into a woman." Richie chuckled.
Jaesin was curled up on the couch in the den pushing Hans' nose out from between her legs.
"Hey, Jaes, nice to see you, too. What's with the 'tude?" Richie smiled pulling on Hans' collar. Jaesin glared up at him. "Somebody's embarrassed," he teased her tickling her ribs.
Duncan laughed and watched from the doorway as Richie picked on Jaesin who refused to even say hello. After getting rejected for the fifth time Richie left Jaesin to her sulking (conveniently forgetting to take Hans with him) and joined Duncan on the porch.
"So what's the big deal?" Richie asked throwing a stick for Fritz to chase after.
"I'll tell you later."
"Later? Mac, come on. You've been holding this over my head for a week!"
"So what's another couple of hours?"
"Pure torture, that's what."
Duncan smiled, "Speaking of pure torture. . . Enemin? What were you thinking?"
Richie shrugged. "She asked nicely, said please and everything."
"So you just bought them?"
"Yeah."
"Every album, and sent them to a twelve year old?"
"That's what spoiling is, she wants something, I buy it for her. You know, I could've bought her the movie, too."
"And if you do, I'll kill you." Duncan pulled Richie into a headlock. "She's my daughter, not yours, you hear me?"
"Yeah, I hear ya. But if you think she's annoying now, wait until she finds out you killed me." Fritz began yipping around their ankles. "Sic 'em, Fritz!" Richie encouraged the small dog. "Get him!" He choked out as Duncan tightened his grip on his neck.
"Is," Richie repeated. "Well, you're right, but why?"
His student looked back up at him and thought, "Because the subject is singular?"
"Are you asking me, or telling me?" Richie asked, adding 'Man, I sound like Mac' to himself.
"Um, telling?"
He smiled, "You're right," he turned to address the rest of his class. "Give me more singular subjects."
"Me!" somebody called out.
"Okay, more."
"Dog."
"Sally."
"He."
"Floor!" the class snickered.
"No, Kyle has a point. To be the subject it doesn't have to be a person or animal, it can be a place or object. Floor is a perfectly acceptable answer," he paused. "Okay, so are you ready for the exception to the rule? It's you." He pointed at Ashley, one of the many freshman girls that made up the first three rows of his class. Richie smiled as she giggled and blushed at his actions. Whenever he was in front of his classes he couldn't help but feel like Harrison Ford when he was teaching in Indiana Jones. The promise of sodas and food brought boys into his class, while the cute teacher attracted the girls. "Don't worry it's not you specifically, its 'you' the word. If I saw someone and thought that they were the most hideous, vile, disgusting looking thing on Earth. . . how would I tell them?"
"Carver, you ugly," a boy said to the boy sitting next to him. The class laughed appreciatively.
"You forgot the verb," Richie corrected. "It would be Carver, you ARE ugly."
"But Carver is a singular subject," a girl protested.
"Yup," Richie nodded. "That's why English is so friggin' hard to learn. There's always at least one exception." He stopped and looked toward the door with an expectant look on his face, nobody was there.yet. "I are going out into the hall," he said opening the door. "What's wrong with that sentence and give me three ways to correct it. No killing, no mass destruction, and no wild orgies while I'm gone." He closed the door behind him.
His classroom was at the end of the hall so he leaned on the wall casually looking straight ahead. After a few seconds two men rounded the corner and stopped, their eyes resting on Richie. He gave them a slight nod in greeting and kept his arms folded over his chest as the men strode toward him.
"What, no hello?" Duncan asked.
"Nope," Richie shook his head. "I'm mad at you. Hey, Adam, what's up?"
"Wait what did I do?" Duncan asked.
"You're doing that whole telling me what to do thing again."
"You're still pouting over that?"
"No, I just started. What would be the point if you weren't around to be annoyed by it?"
Adam smiled, "Now I remember why I let you live. You amuse me by annoying MacLeod. . . do you really have a refrigerator in there?"
"I amuse you?" Richie raised an eyebrow. "But, yeah, I do, have a fridge that is. . ." He turned around and peered into the room. "I should really get back in there. What do you guys want?"
"You willingly in school? I've waited a hundred years to see this," Duncan replied.
"So, is that your way of telling me you're sticking around?" Richie asked. Duncan nodded and Adam grinned. "There's no way I'm going to talk you out of this, is there?" Duncan shook his head. Richie sighed, "Fine, fine. I was loosing their attention anyway." He opened the door and started yelling over the class. "Hey! Yo! Shut up or I'm bringing out the CDs!" The class quieted. "They hate my music," Richie explained to Duncan.
"So do I," Duncan mumbled under his breath.
"There's no beer in here," Adam announced from behind the refrigerator door.
"No duh," Richie replied. He took a pen off his desk and threw it, grinning at the satisfying clunk it made when it hit Adam. "Get out of there." The boys laughed, but the girls were too busy staring at Duncan to notice Richie's antics. "Turn around or something, I think they want a better look at you." Richie looked at the clock when the bell rang announcing the end of class. "Go away, I don't want to see or hear from any of you until Monday. And if I do, there'll be a test!" He called at the retreating teenagers.
"You in school. . . a teacher no less, I still can't get over it," Duncan smiled shaking his head. "Expecially after all the complaining you did during college."
"It's not so bad when you get to make up the tests instead of taking them," Richie shrugged. "Now what are you doing?" He asked looking at Adam who was wondering around the room peering behind everything.
"Where's your sword?"
"Home," he turned his attention back to Duncan. "So I take it you couldn't get Jaesin within twenty miles of this place on her day off?" he asked loading un-graded papers into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
"She's not feeling well, so we dropped her off at the cabin before we came."
Richie made a face, it had been a couple decades since he had been sick, but what he remembered of it wasn't pleasant. "What's wrong?" he asked not able to keep the concern out of his voice. Jaesin was his little sister, in all ways that counted and as far as the public was concerned.
"I'm not sure. Her stomach's been bothering her for a couple days. I think maybe she ate something."
"Or. . ." Richie prompted with a smile. Duncan furrowed his brow in confusion.
"He's got a good point, MacLeod. How old is Jaesin?" Adam asked returning to the refrigerator for a soda.
"She's twelve," Duncan answered, still not quite sure what Richie and Adam were talking about.
"And a girl," Richie added. "I think Amanda might want to have a talk with her tonight."
. . . . . .
Richie pulled his vintage Land Shark beside Duncan's SUV. He had been expecting Amanda to already be there, since he had gone home after school to pick up a few things but she wasn't. He only felt one other immortal there, and since Duncan's car was the one there he figured Adam had gone to pick her up from the airport.
Hans leapt out of the convertible as soon as it pulled to a stop and Fritz scrambled to follow, undoubtedly to find Jaesin, as far as the dogs could tell a trip to the island meant Jaesin. . . and endless pampering.
"Hey!" Richie called. "Get back here!" He jogged after them leaving his bag in the car. Fritz immediately turned back around and bounded towards Richie jumping around his legs. He picked up the small dog and tucked it under his arm like a football. "Hans! Hey, ya dumb mutt stop whatever it is you're doing, because I'm the one that's going to get yelled at!"
"Hey, Richie," Duncan greeted opening the door to let Hans in. "I'd stay away from Jae, she's a little moody right now."
"Richie!" a young girl's voice squealed. "Get your dumb dog off me!"
"I'm telling you, Mac, she's cranky and her stomach hurts. . . our little girl is turning into a woman." Richie chuckled.
Jaesin was curled up on the couch in the den pushing Hans' nose out from between her legs.
"Hey, Jaes, nice to see you, too. What's with the 'tude?" Richie smiled pulling on Hans' collar. Jaesin glared up at him. "Somebody's embarrassed," he teased her tickling her ribs.
Duncan laughed and watched from the doorway as Richie picked on Jaesin who refused to even say hello. After getting rejected for the fifth time Richie left Jaesin to her sulking (conveniently forgetting to take Hans with him) and joined Duncan on the porch.
"So what's the big deal?" Richie asked throwing a stick for Fritz to chase after.
"I'll tell you later."
"Later? Mac, come on. You've been holding this over my head for a week!"
"So what's another couple of hours?"
"Pure torture, that's what."
Duncan smiled, "Speaking of pure torture. . . Enemin? What were you thinking?"
Richie shrugged. "She asked nicely, said please and everything."
"So you just bought them?"
"Yeah."
"Every album, and sent them to a twelve year old?"
"That's what spoiling is, she wants something, I buy it for her. You know, I could've bought her the movie, too."
"And if you do, I'll kill you." Duncan pulled Richie into a headlock. "She's my daughter, not yours, you hear me?"
"Yeah, I hear ya. But if you think she's annoying now, wait until she finds out you killed me." Fritz began yipping around their ankles. "Sic 'em, Fritz!" Richie encouraged the small dog. "Get him!" He choked out as Duncan tightened his grip on his neck.