Title:Cambridge Would Do
Pairing(s): None, really. Implied Mark/Maureen, Roger/April
Notes: Collins gets a letter. Takes place PreRent, preApril's Suicide.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I intend no copyright infringement. This is a work of love, resulting in no profit to myself, except for feedback. Feedback is love.
Cambridge Would Do
Collins stood on the small landing outside the loft to open the letter. He could hear the others in the loft behind him – Roger's guitar, April singing along softly. She had a good voice, if quiet. Mark and Maureen were bickering good-naturedly about organized religion. Benny was tapping away at his laptop – how he'd managed to afford the thing, none of them knew, and he wasn't telling.
None of them knew about the letter.
Hell, none of them even knew he'd written to MIT about the position for a visiting philosophy professor. It would only be a year-long appointment, but… It was something. Something new, and Collins needed a change of scenery.
Not that he didn't love New York. He did. The city was home, and always had been. But Collins needed to get away, and he needed to teach. It had been ages since he'd set foot in a classroom, and he missed it. He missed the eager note-takers, and the bored glares. He missed forgetting his lecture notes and winging it with a Socratic discussion on post-modernist thought, which almost always turned into a debate.
He slid a finger under the crisp white flap of the envelope and tore it open. Closing his eyes, he made a quick promise to himself. If he got it – if they'd granted him the appointment – he'd celebrate. Take everyone out to the Life for dinner and pink champagne on ice. Pulling the letter out, he was almost afraid to read the top sheet. Steeling himself, he scanned the page.
He pumped a fist silently into the air, barely restraining a huge whoop of joy.
Dear Dr. Thomas B. Collins,
MIT is pleased to inform you that we have accepted your application for the post of Visiting Professor of Philosophy...
He stuffed the letter into his pocket before heading into the loft. He wasn't quite ready to share the news with the whole group yet – he wasn't sure they'd understand. He wasn't trying to run away… He just needed some space, some fresh air. Cambridge would do.