Eleanor: And the second chapter's up! Woo!

...Yeah, don't expect updates this fast. But enjoy, and review, or do something. :D

Time: 0600 hours

Location: Howard's School of Westchester County, New York, U.S.A, Earth, Solar System, Milky Way, Next Largest Area, Blah, Blah, Blah… I Probably Could Have Stopped at U.S.A, But, Y'know, Just in Case There's Another Howard's School of Westchester County, New York, U.S.A, Earth, Solar System in a Different Galaxy…

Quest: I Seek the Holy Grail

Favourite Colour: Blue

Monty Python References: Probably Too Many Already, But "Ex-Parrot" Makes Three

He didn't know how they had hooked him into this intelligence business. But he had a mission, with dire consequences were he not to see it through.

Staying completely silent, he tiptoed through the wide hallway. Others would be here soon. He had to hurry, for if he were caught, the whole mission would be in jeopardy. (And Alex Trebek would not stand for that.)

His heart pounded, pulse rushing through his ears as he continued through the unlit wing. He felt along the wall, fingers skimming stealthily over the many lockers as the room approached.

His hand met a doorknob.

"Why, hello, how are you?" the hand started.

"I am fine, thanks. It's a pleasure to meet you," the doorknob responded.

Simultaneously slapping his hand for speaking and wondering how exactly his hand and the doorknob had started a conversation, he gripped the doorknob and prepared to open the door. He twisted the doorknob. The door wobbled slowly in his direction for a few centimetres, and then he swung it open.

This was the Teacher's Lounge (also known as the break room, the chock-full-of-people-fighting room, or the Room of Awesomeness when a certain teacher was either really drunk or the only one there).

And it was finally time for the lurking Algebra I teacher to get his morning coffee. After all, he couldn't even try to sound coherent without his caffeine, and how could he be a successful intelligence (and by intelligence, I mean teaching… Haha, I see what I did there) worker without sounding intelligent?

He only got the room to himself for a few minutes—in marched (quite literally, although he wasn't lifting his boots quite that far off the ground) the 20th Century History teacher. Having organised and reorganised his curriculum down to the last second, he didn't have anything of importance to do until 7:30, when he would arrive at his room to wait for the first class to begin at 8:00.

With a long exhale, the 20th Century History teacher settled into one of the room's many worn-out, dull green, cushioned seats. He acknowledged the Algebra I teacher politely before turning the television on at low volume.

His two companions weren't so peaceful.

"Okay, WHO MOVED THE BEER?" the first grumbled, rummaging sleepily but angrily through the staff refrigerator.

"What, that?" the 20th Century History teacher responded, turning away from the morning news. "I did. You know alcohol's not allowed on-campus."

The German teacher glared back at him. "Yeah. You got a point?"

"Don't bring your beer to work," the 20th Century History teacher grunted. "I can and will stop driving you over here."

"Fine by me," the German teacher responded, plodding over to the coffee-maker table. "You get up WAY too early, anyway."

"I KNOW!" put in the other newcomer, who was currently lazily stirring sugar into his coffee. (Well, it was more like stirring coffee into his sugar, given the amounts of each. But that sounds kinda weird.) "Why can't we ever sleep in a little, ve…?"

"There's no reason TO sleep in," grumbled the 20th Century History teacher, who was still attempting to watch the news and probably wouldn't give up until enough people arrived to completely block out the sound. (Knowing the teachers here, that would end up being the very next person.)

"What if you're having a really nice dream, ve?" mumbled the Art teacher as he tried to find the strength to bring the coffee mug to his lips. "Ve…~"

"Or how about we let HIM get some sleep so he won't keep saying—" the German teacher did his best impression of the Art teacher (although it sounded more like a horribly drunk peanut salesman)— "'VE-E-E-E' all the time?"

"I'm not saying 've', ve…~"

"Feliciano, you're an idiot."

"Ve?"

"Oh, just leave him alone," the 20th Century History teacher grumbled, turning the television's volume up a little in frustration. (Why exactly he wanted so desperately to hear the newest update on Kate's outfits I don't know.)

"I'll leave him alone when he finally shuts up," the German teacher responded, glaring at Feliciano (who was ve-ing again for no particular reason).

"I don't wanna shut up, ve," the Art teacher responded sadly, sipping at his concoction. "I'm too sleepy…" He yawned high-pitchedly (Yes, that IS a word, Document Editor! Because I said so!).

"Then go to sleep or something!" The German teacher wearily collapsed on a chair in a very disorderly position. "If you don't want to get up so early, how about you just drive yourself, anyway? It's not like YOU have to share a car with Mr. Hair Gel over there."

"He'd kill himself if he tried to drive," defended the aforementioned Mr. Hair Gel. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

"Oh, the bull thing?" Sensing this was giving in, the German teacher added, "Sure, he's as bad at driving as you are at picking up girls, but—"

"Plenty of bulls get hit by cars, ve," mumbled the Art teacher

"Not the mechanical ones in the middle of the fairgrounds!" the German teacher reacted, not pleased with being interrupted. Turning back to the 20th Century History teacher, he finished, "I shouldn't have to suffer just because HE'S a loser."

The 20th Century History teacher rubbed his forehead. "Well, maybe once you get your licence back, YOU can drive the two of us here."

"Wait… I thought they said I'm never getting my licence back."

"That's the point, genius."

"Shut up."

"Hey, Gilbert," Feliciano started, enough of the sugar kicking in to put some of the perkiness back in his voice, "where'd Gilbird go?"

"My classroom." Gilbert begrudgingly got back to his feet so he could get a second serving of coffee (which certainly wasn't so good to him without beer in it). "He's sorting out the last of the first-day paper crap."

"It tells you something about a person when he can't organise any better than a baby bird," grumbled the 20th Century History teacher.

"No, it tells you something about a person when he's so awesome he trained a baby bird to do his work," corrected the German teacher.

"Good morning, everyone!"

The newcomer's call launched the Art teacher as well as the German teacher (don't tell him I said this, because he'll kill me) into hiding behind the room's matching green couch. The 20th Century History was more on the relieved side and turned the television's volume back down.

"Good morning, Ivan. You're here early," he commented.

"Ah, I know," the Chemistry teacher hummed, taking a seat on the couch. (This sent those hiding behind it into a panic.) (Once again, please don't tell Gilbert I said that.) "My neighbours seem to have come home with a very noisy baby. I barely slept at all." He shook his head with a light-hearted laugh. "But that's okay! I took care of the nuisance before I got here."

"I… see." The 20th Century History teacher shifted position on the seat.

With Ivan's presence suppressing the noisemakers, it was surprisingly easier for the 20th Century History teacher to finish watching the 6:00 news in peace. No sooner had the 7:00 news begun than the next wave of teachers had come.

"WHO'S READY FOR THE NEW SCHOOL YEAR? !" Bursting through the door and launching himself into the room with a dramatic but very lopsided cartwheel was the American History teacher.

"Ready enough," the 20th Century History teacher responded. "I'm assuming you are?"

"Oh, yeah!" The American History teacher made a few jabs at the air. "I'll take anything it throws at me!" Bypassing the coffee table, he sat down hard in one of the chairs. "Man, isn't it great? New year, new kids, new start…" He laughed loudly.

"Ah!" Ivan started, gesticulating (haha, that sounds like a dirty word) toward the television screen, "there's that last shuttle launch again!" He turned back toward the American History teacher innocently. "Are you still depressed about your beloved space program ending?"

The only response he got was a wail.

"I think that's a yes," chirped the Chemistry teacher. Sweeping a few specks of dust off his jacket, he stood up. "Well, I should probably get back to my classroom. Start setting things up."

"Have fun," the 20th Century History teacher sighed.

The second the door closed shut behind Ivan, Feliciano and Gilbert withdrew from behind the couch with relief.

"I see you've done a good job getting over your fear of him, Gilbert," the 20th Century History teacher started.

"What are you talking about?" the German teacher responded defensively. "I've never been afraid of that guy!"

"…Says the one who just got out from hiding behind a couch."

"I was just… hanging out with Feliciano! HE'S the scaredy-cat," Gilbert grumbled.

"Because you two have been getting along SO well lately," the 20th Century History teacher said.

"Well… Hey! Alfred!" Gilbert started, conveniently changing the subject. "What's up?"

"Uh… Same old, same old!" the American History teacher responded, starting to get back out of his depressed episode. "You excited for the new year?"

"Definitely!" The German teacher gave a thumbs-up. "I finally trained Gilbird to grade tests! No more paperwork, baby!"

"Nice," Alfred replied with a grin. "Wish I had someone to do that for me all the time."

"What idiot left the door open?"

"That one," the 20th Century History teacher responded bluntly, pointing a finger toward the American History teacher.

Shaking his head in disgust, the English Literature teacher closed the door back up and started for the coffee table. "Don't go around leaving doors ajar, you dolt," he criticised, pouring hot water in a coffee cup and taking a tea bag. "Students don't need to see into the Teacher's Lounge." Not feeling conversational (which of course he normally felt like just ALL the zippity-doo-dah day… not), he started steeping his tea, and, going right back outside, made a point of shutting the door tightly behind him.

"Ugh, he's such a grouch," Alfred complained loudly. "Acts like he's my dad or something when he's only a year older than me."

"Although you COULD use a little disciplining," the 20th Century History teacher muttered under his breath. He glanced over at Gilbert, who was now relating the tale of the missing booze. "Most of the teachers here could…"

(Oh, don't you know it.)

"Good morning, everybody!" called the Mechanics teacher as she trotted into the room. All of the other teachers in the room looked toward her in greeting. Most found themselves once gain locked in the everlasting battle to keep their gazes on her face and not a little ways below. The rest had long since given up and just stared, away at her buxom (which is the polite term for BIG FREAKING BOOBS). Luckily for them, she didn't seem to notice and/or mind.

"Morning, Kat," Alfred replied with a goofy smile. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much!" The Mechanics teacher leaned over to get her morning coffee, her hand taking a mug and a different part of her anatomy inadvertently knocking over the coffee machine.

"Oh! Oh oh oh!" she panicked, lunging over with her other arm to keep the brewer from falling off the table. "I'm sorry!" She looked to the others to see if her apology was accepted. Since she only got a few "uh, yeah, whatever, as long as it still works" nods, she just laughed feebly and returned to her business.

"How many times is she going to do that before she realises that's not a good way to get her coffee?" muttered the 20th Century History teacher.

"Who cares?" laughed the German teacher, taking in the show.

After finally getting her mug filled, the Mechanics teacher said goodbye, apologised again, and trotted back out.

"Well, it's 7:30." The 20th Century History teacher got up out of his seat, and, seeing that no one else seemed to care about world events, turned the television off. "Good luck today, everyone."

Gilbert scoffed at the words, Feliciano said thanks, and Alfred was too busy wiping a smudge off his glasses to reply for a moment.

"Oh, yeah. Good luck to you, too, Ludwig! You're gonna need it."

The 20th Century History teacher turned the doorknob with a sigh.

"We all are."

Ludwig left the lounge ready to face his first hour.