TOMMY - AFTER SCHOOL THE NEXT DAY

I find myself looking forward to this confrontation. Every year, I make a point of introducing myself to the kids' teachers, letting them know that they can contact me anytime there's an issue, inquiring about what they're going to be teaching and how. I've never missed a conference and I have no problem calling teachers if one of the kids needs help and I'm unsure about how the teacher wants it done or the instructions are in any way unclear. You'd think that word would have gotten around by now that I'll challenge any grades that don't make sense.

However, in the past, every one of the teachers has been more than willing to work with me or explain grades or procedures. Every one of them has said how happy they are to see an involved parent that isn't placing blame, but trying to help them help the child. Not once have I ever had to deal with the attitude that I did when I called Mara Jane's teacher yesterday. The only thing that I can think of that would have caused the attitude would be a bunch of other parents calling and complaining about their kid's grade. However, if that's the case, she really needs to reevaluate the criteria.

I look over at Zedd. "Ready?"

"Always, Thomas" he responds calmly. "Although I'm still unsure of the purpose behind bringing this staff that you claim is mine when you often tell me that I'm not allowed to try and conquer the planet - at the very least until my memory comes back fully."

"Call it plan B. Leave it here for now." He shrugs, gets out of the car and we head in together. I lead the way, remembering the correct path from conferences. As we enter the classroom, I'm pleased to see that all the administrators that I called are already here. By the sour look on the teacher's face, she thought she was calling a bluff. What she doesn't know, however, is that the superintendent and I know each other from the days when I used to teach high school. "Dr. Brown, Miss Evans, Mr. Jordan, Ms. Foster. Thank you for your time."

"No problem" Dr. Brown assures me. "I'm a little curious why you felt that I needed to be involved, though."

"Because I didn't want to waste any time having to go through the ranks, particularly since I think I already know how this is going to go."

Miss Evans, the principal, speaks next. "So you felt that this was something that I couldn't handle?"

She doesn't sound offended, fortunately, more curious. "That's not quite the situation, Miss Evans. I'm sure the point will become clear in time." I return my attention to the group. "Miss Evans and Mr. Jordan have both been at this school for years. They both know what kind of parents Mr. Oliver and I are. Dr. Brown, you've known me for nearly twenty years. We and Ms. Foster have no such history to fall back on."

"Ah" Mr. Jordan nods. "You're counting on our knowledge of you both."

"Something like that" I agree. "Now, occasionally I may have to translate for my husband as a fairly recent accident has interfered with his grasp of English and he's fallen back on his native language of Eltarian. It is improving as he recovers, but at the moment it comes and goes."

For the moment, I'm tempted to ignore the irritation that I feel from him through the bond. However I address him in Eltarian. "Don't be mad, mate. There's a reason I told them this and that's so that you can watch them more closely if they think that you won't understand all of what's being said. Plus, you might catch things that I won't." He's still not happy although he nods in acknowledgement. I know that part of the problem is that I didn't discuss with him how I was going to explain the need for me to translate from time to time. "Let's get through this and you can be mad at me later, okay?"

He nods again. I set the report and criteria sheet down on the table in front of the higher ups before I turn my attention to the teacher. "Now, Ms. Foster, I've looked over Mara Jane's report and, based on what you told her and me about why she got the grade she got, I don't think you actually opened the cover, much less looked it over."

Miss Evans, in the middle, opens the cover and begins to go over the report with the men looking over her shoulders as I continue. "Just addressing your remarks about her report - you told her that the paperwork wasn't in order, there weren't enough citations and that the ones she had weren't done correctly, it was too many pages and the work was sloppy. She has the correct number of citations and they are done correctly. The criteria sheet only specifies a minimum number of pages and two extra pages is hardly too many. I fail to see how the work is sloppy or not in order."

Acidly, Ms. Foster retorts, "You aren't a teacher, Mr. Oliver. You have no idea what you're talking about." The other three look up, stunned. "Quite frankly, I find that 'your child' is an arrogant and ill-mannered child who encourages others to do things that they shouldn't."

"And how exactly do you feel she is ill-mannered and arrogant?" I challenge, my hand finding Zedd's arm, as he's understood enough to be ready for a fight now.

"For one, she dares to question everything that is presented to her. For another these absurd requests for a 'break' to 'gather herself' are completely uncalled for and exasperating."

"As you recall my husband and I already explained to you the need for those breaks at the beginning of the school year, the same as we did to everyone else in this room. Because of who she is and her heritage she has the ability when threatened or agitated beyond her control to lose her grip on a fair amount of power. And while my husband has the ability to control it for her, he can't very well be here every second of the day to do so, thus we've taught her ways to manage it herself. Those breaks as you call them being the most effective. As for the other matter, as an instructor myself, I find it highly unusual that you have a problem with her questioning things and demonstrating a need to know and learn."

"Look Mr. Oliver, I hardly have a problem with her wishing to learn, it's her arrogance that she already knows everything that is the trouble. As for this supposed 'power' of hers assuming it's not just an excuse for her to leave class, I'm not entirely certain that she should even be in with the normal, human children."

Zedd speaks up, apparently having understood enough to spark a bit of outrage. "Excuse me? Normal, human children?"

I set my hand on his wrist again, giving it a quick squeeze, signaling him to wait. "Okay, I tried to be diplomatic, but I think it's time to be a bit more straightforward now. First of all, it's Doctor Oliver. Second of all, I know what I'm talking about since I used to teach high school. Third, I don't particularly care for your tone when you said 'your child'. Fourth, you're probably right - she shouldn't be in with the 'normal' children as she's smarter and more educated than a good many of them. And, getting back on topic, as I said before, that was just addressing your remarks about her report - we haven't even begun to discuss her presentation."

"It was sloppy, disorganized, unrehearsed-"

"Which is entirely untrue! Of course, it would help considerably if her classmates wouldn't shoot rubber bands and spitballs at her - or at the very least if you'd stopped it."

She looks down her nose at me, her haughty gaze irritating me further. "I wasn't aware any such thing was going on."

"She's lying, Thomas" Zedd snaps out quickly in Eltarian. After another moment, I hear it too - her heart is racing madly. I nod at Zedd.

At the groups' questioning looks, I translate calmly. "He says you're a bad liar, and given the speed your heart is racing, I'd have to agree."

Taken back and suddenly looking torn between shock and panic, she however does manage to stick to her guns. "Look, just because she wasn't prepared and her presentation was horrible - "

My eyes narrow. "I know for a fact that she's been practicing her delivery for a week."

Ms. Foster rolls her eyes. "So you say, but Dr. Oliver, I've heard this all before."

"Perhaps we should see for ourselves. According to that criteria sheet, all the presentations are recorded. Let's watch it, shall we?" Simultaneously, Zedd and I fold our arms and wait for her to get out of this one.

"Somehow, I thought you'd say that. So yes, let's watch her absolutely atrocious work, shall we?" she says in a mocking tone. In a minute, she's got the tape cued up and the six of us watch.

When it's over, Zedd and I are both furious. We can see every spitball and rubber band when it strikes our precious daughter. Zedd goes into a rant in Eltarian. When he slows down, I translate the gist of it. "There is no way that you didn't see any of that unless you weren't even looking. If you had actually looked at or read her report, there might be some excuse, but you didn't so there isn't."

Miss Evans nods. "I'm going to have to agree with the Olivers. This report is, quite frankly, done at a senior level. I'd like to see your grade book please."

"Why?"

Miss Evans' eyebrows go up. "Because I asked for it." With a grumble, Ms. Foster goes and retrieves it, sliding it across the table to her. In a minute, Miss Evans has the book open to the right page. She looks it over and slides it to Dr. Brown. Once he looks at it, he passes it to Mr. Jordan. As he looks it over, Miss Evans addresses the teacher. "So you're telling me that a child that has perfect scores on every test and piece of homework in your class, you suddenly think that she's turned in work that is far below her normal standard and instead of calling her parents and alerting them to a potential problem, you're acting like it's no big deal. Never mind that your bigoted remarks are completely inappropriate."

"Just because I don't think it's necessary to be all politically correct and baby the aliens-"

"Whoa! Excuse me? Baby the aliens?" Oh man, Zedd is pissed - and apparently been listening to far too many humans as he's starting to pick up way too many of our ways. He switches to Eltarian, his anger getting the better of his current English abilities. "Is she out of her mind? Mara Jane has worked very hard to get those grades! Hell, just since I've been out of the hospital, I've seen how hard she works and studies!"

"Easy, mate." Quickly I translate for the humans in the room. "I know that she's earning her grades. I go through her homework on a daily basis."

"So did you write her paper for her?"

"Of course not! I-" I stop suddenly. "Is that why you marked her down? Because you think I wrote her paper for her?"

"I've seen it before" she says smugly. "Parents doing their child's homework just so they pass."

Dr. Brown stands and speaks sternly apparently seeing the last ditch effort for what it is at the same moment I do. "And that's enough of that. First of all, you are way out of line. Dr. Oliver certainly wouldn't jeopardize his children's educations by doing the work for them. Even if he were doing her homework, that doesn't explain her perfect test scores. However, based on your attitude, I think we need to see about changing her to another teacher."

"This close to the end of the school year, I don't think that's necessary" Miss Evans cuts in. "However, I will be watching all your students' grades for the rest of the year."

"And even if she doesn't, we will certainly be watching Mara Jane's, and let me just tell you, any more stunts like this, and you will very likely regret it."

Glaring at me and clearly misunderstanding my words, her response is not surprising. "Is that a threat, Dr. Oliver?"

"No, it's a warning. As I said my husband and I can't be there to constantly calm Mara Jane down when she feels wronged or discriminated against. That in mind, there is only so much those 'breaks' can also do in way of her getting herself together. You think my husband and I are vicious, let me just tell you, you have no idea what that hormonal, impractical, hyper intelligent teenager is capable of, especially given who one of her fathers is."

"You mean her father. It's obvious she's his, not yours." My jaw locks in anger. "Where is her mother?"

Through my teeth, I grind out, "She doesn't have a female parent, if that's what you're getting at."

"I mean someone had to carry her."

"By that criteria, that would be Zedd."

She sighs heavily, rolling her eyes as she does. "Now you're just lying. That can't be done."

Beyond angry now, I stand and set my hands on the table as I lean toward her. "Actually, it can, not that it's any of your business. Zedd carried our daughter and I carried our son. Eltarian medical science is a long way ahead of Earth. Both our genes were combined to create our children, they were implanted and we carried to full term - which is actually longer than for humans. You aren't dealing with humans or human technology."

"Oh? And what does that make you? Aren't you human?"

"I was. Again, it's none of your business and we don't have to explain ourselves to you."

I know that Zedd can feel my rage and gives me a questioning look. I interpret for him once more. He frowns and speaks in Eltarian. "Perhaps this is partly where some of her problem is coming from - not understanding."

"I don't really care if that's it. As a teacher, she's not supposed to let her personal beliefs interfere with her job."

He shrugs. "Well, she is only human." Seriously?

Conceding his point, I take a deep breath and switch to English. "I used to be fully human. However, some years ago I was - altered - to a half breed. I'm only half human now. The other half is an alien species that has a significantly longer life span which better matches the potential life span of my mate. Our type of relationship is not all that unusual on Zedd's home planet, nor is the way our children were born." I see no need to explain that I am a power holder, nor that it was the powers that changed me.

"Look, I don't really care. You need to teach that child how to behave in public."

"And this has gone more than far enough. Ms. Foster, you are suspended pending an investigation. Quite frankly, considering how you're representing this school and - by extension - this district, I hope they fire you. Your attitude is far better suited to advance you somewhere else as you certainly aren't showing the tolerance that we base our credo on."

Ms. Foster spins on me, her demeanor extremely hostile. "You really have nothing better to do than to get hard working teachers in trouble, fired or arrested, do you?"

"What are you-" She doesn't mean…

"You and your little brat got Chris Elliot arrested several years ago for no good reason and now-"

"Who is that, Thomas?" Zedd asks quietly as the others stare at her in disbelief.

"I'll explain later, but she's lying about there being no good reason, mate." I turn back to her. "And I'd just like to point out that if there was no good reason then he wouldn't have been convicted and sent to prison."

"All fabricated!"

My eyes narrow. "How are you connected to him?"

She looks up, fear flashing on her face briefly. "W-what do you mean?"

"You're defending him way too hard - especially since there was a mountain of evidence against him. Either someone has fed you a pack of lies about him or you're connected to him somehow and desperately want to believe that he's innocent. Either way - if you're taking this out on Mara Jane, I swear to you I will make sure that you lose your job and won't get another one teaching - ever." I lock eyes with her and speak softly. "And that's not a threat, Ms. Foster. It's a promise."