EDIT: I WILL BE UPDATING SOMETIME WEDNESDAY! IF YOU WANT IT SOONER, PLEASE BOOST UP MY EGO WITH REVIEWS!

A/N. Hi, hi, hi! Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day! ^^ To start off the chapter, let me just say how much I love you guys. I honestly do! Thanks for sticking with me and this story-I really appreciate it. *sees stares* What? I can't say thank you from time to time? It should be a usual occurrence you know…

TO CURLSCAT: Mustardseed isn't going to pull her into the closet. Enough said. XD

If I think of anything else to say, it'll be in the bottom A/N. For now, here's chapter 22!

Chapter 22: When You Give A Student Detention

Before I had the chance to knock on the door, I was pulled inside Mr. Firay's room by my collar. Whoa, déjà vu much? Not with my dream, but this has happened before, hasn't it?...

Not with my dream…

I suddenly turned bright red, freaking out. Mr. Firay had me against the door, freezing up against me. Oh grapes, oh grapes, oh grapes…If I wasn't having all these thoughts jumbling in my head, I might've noticed I was comfortable in this position. Wait, what am I saying?

"Mr. Firay…you can let go of me," I squeaked.

He looked down at me. "Oh," he laughed. "Sorry. I thought I saw a few other girls out today. Feels like déjà vu, huh?"

"Uh-huh…" I turned away, hoping he wouldn't see my blush, and tried to calm myself down. I then glanced at the snacks in my hands. "Oh! These are for you." I smirked as I saw him pick up the bag of chips with an expressionless face.

Then he smiled.

"How did you know salt and vinegar was my favorite flavor of chips?"

I stared blankly at Mr. Firay. He couldn't be serious. He smirked back at me, opening the bag of chips and eating one. So much for that idea.

I glanced around the room and my attention was drawn to the homework section on the board. Getting the permission slip for the field trip signed was under my grade's homework.

"What's the field trip?" I asked, turning back to Mr. Firay.

He stared at me curiously for a moment, and then realization swept across his face. "Oh, that's right. You were out yesterday."

"How do you know? You were out too."

"Attendance form," he informed me, an amused smirk on his face.

"Oh," I responded simply.

"There's a class trip to the beach on Saturday," Mr. Firay started, going over to his desk. "I have a form somewhere if you want one…They are staying overnight at a hotel by the beach."

"I want one," I told him quickly.

He frowned at me. "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Mr. Firay shrugged. "Never mind."

"Okay…?"

Mr. Firay pulled out a sheet of paper, and handed it to me. I scanned it quickly, and put it into my backpack.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

A thought suddenly popped into my head and I frowned slightly.

"Say, Mr. Firay…"

"Matt," he corrected me, raising an eyebrow.

"Matt," I said, rolling my eyes –a trait I had got from Sabrina. "Why don't you ever have a detention list on the board?"

Mr. Firay eyed me for a moment before shrugging. "I didn't realize I had to have one."

"You don't, but most teachers do to remember who had a detention," I told him, looking at his desk. "And I've also noticed that you don't have any detention slips either."

"They're just in my drawer."

I frowned deeper. "Come to think of it…I've never heard of anyone saying that they've got a detention from you, either." I looked at him curiously. I was in full detective mode at this point. "Why is that?"

Mr. Firay cleared his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about. I give detentions."

"Yeah, to me," I snorted. "But how come I've never heard anyone else say they have?"

"I don't know," he responded casually.

"The girls would surely gloat about it, and the guys would complain…but ever since you started working here, no one has said anything about a detention with you."

Mr. Firay sighed and looked at me. "Why are you so interested?"

I shrugged. "No reason really, the thought just suddenly popped into my head."

Mr. Firay stayed quiet for a moment, and I went over to the white board, debating on asking whether I should clean it for him or not. It wasn't like he seemed to have anything else planned for me to do.

"I'm not allowed to have students serve detention with me," Mr. Firay said, breaking the silence.

I turned to look at him in surprise. "What? Why?"

Mr. Firay looked over at me with a smirk. "Can't you figure it out? A young, extremely handsome, kind man like myself being alone in a room with a high schooler?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're a teacher. Nothing could happen since it's illegal."

"Mmm," Mr. Firay responded, frowning at me slightly.

For some reason, I felt like what I had said had dampened his mood slightly, but before I could comment on it, another thought suddenly popped into my head. I glared at him. "If you weren't allowed to give out detentions, how come I got one the first week?" I demanded, crossing my arms.

Mr. Firay smirked, shrugging slightly. "I had a feeling you'd be a fun person to tease…and boy was I right."

"You're a jerk, you know that?'

He laughed. "And I take pleasure in the fact."

I scowled at him. "Well, now I know that if you ever give me a detention again, I won't have to go."

"You'll go anyway, though."

I stared at him, my mouth drying slightly. Had he figured something out? Why would he make that comment? He must have mistaken my look for a confused one.

"Because it'll be blackmail, of course," he continued simply.

I gave him a flat look. "Don't say such things so lightly."

Mr. Firay laughed, his unruly hair falling into his face. I was taken aback by his looks for a moment, and forced myself to look away as a warm blush spread onto my face. I needed to learn how to control my horrible blushing habits.

A silence settled in and I awkwardly played with my fingers while Mr. Firay stared at me. I finally snapped my attention to him. He raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want me to do?" I demanded, the silence getting to me.

Mr. Firay looked at me curiously. "What do you mean?"

:Obviously you need me to do manual labor," I responded. "Otherwise you wouldn't have blackmailed me into coming."

Mr. Firay laughed. "I wouldn't really call it blackmail…"

I stared flatly at him. He grinned back.

"Whatever," I responded, sighing deeply.

"Follow me," Mr. Firay said suddenly, beckoning me towards the supply room. "While we're waiting for him, you can help me store today's cooking materials from the tables."

"Him?" I echoed, following Mr. Firay into the supply room.

I blushed faintly, remembering my dream, and remembering what happened a few minutes ago, but I quickly shook it out of my head. There was no way that would ever happen –the former, I mean. Mr. Firay would probably pull me in by my collar every time I come after school.

"Wash out those measuring cups and whatnot," Mr. Firay ordered, ignoring me completely.

I sighed, walking over to the sink where the utensils were. Something hit me in the back of my head and I turned around to see Mr. Firay nodding to the ground where the thing that hit me lay. I looked down to see a pair of gloves.

"Wear those just in case," he suggested, before turning his back to me.

I looked at the measuring cups warily before picking up the gloves and putting them on. "What ingredients were you exactly using today?" There was some sort of sticky substance on the materials.

Mr. Firay looked over at me with a smirk. "Nothing too bad; it was turned into food, of course. You wouldn't die."

I rolled my eyes, picking up one of them up. If anything happened, at least I could sue him. The thought brought a smile to my face.

I turned on the sink and began washing the measuring cup, filling it with water and soap, shaking it, and pouring the water out. I then rubbed the outside part of the cup. When I was done, I put it upside down on a paper towel and started on the next one. About halfway through them, I felt a presence next to me.

"You're slow," Mr. Firay commented, looking over my shoulder.

"Look, I'm going as fast as I can!" I snapped, raising the hand with the measuring cup in annoyance.

Water from the cup sloshed out, going over my shoulder and into Mr. Firay's face. I quickly turned around In shock to see Mr. Firay frowning at me, water dripping down his face.

"Sorry," I apologized, trying not to laugh. "At least I didn't put the soap on that one yet."

Mr. Firay rolled his eyes, wiping his face off with the back of his sleeve. "I need to go to the conference room for a minute. Stay here."

"Okay," I responded, turning back to the sink.

Mr. Firay ruffled my hair and chuckled to himself before exiting the room. I looked after him for a minute, trying to fix my hair with my forearm. Why did he do that? As if my hair didn't look bad as it was without him having to mess with it. I sighed to myself, picking up the next test tube.

Hair mussing…that was like a brotherly gesture. Or a fatherly one…I froze, my mouth falling open slightly. Did Mr. Firay think of me as a dad would his daughter? The thought made me sick (because that meant Puck would also be my uncle), but it was possible. I shook my head violently. That wasn't it. It couldn't possibly be it, and if it was, then I would change that.

Suddenly, I felt a pair of arms encircle my waist. I shrieked and jumped violently in surprise, dropping the glass beaker (1) in my hand. It fell to the ground and smashed. I struggled for a moment, trying to release myself from the mystery person's arms. The person holding me chuckled, not letting go of me.

"Did I surprise you?" a familiar voice asked.

"Sage?" I asked, turning my head and coming face-to-face with the brunette.

"Hi there," he responded with a grin.

"Daphne? What's wrong?" a new voice called out in a worried voice.

Sage turned me around, his strong arms still around my waist. I struggled for a moment until I realized I had no chance of escaping his grasp. Mr. Firay appeared, his eyes flashing around the room before landing on Sage.

"Oh, it's just you," Mr. Firay said, a frown on his face, but looking relieved. His eyes moved to Sage's arms around my waist. "What are you doing?"

"Showing the love," Sage responded, squeezing me.

"Hey," I said, trying to get out of his grasp. "What love?"

"That's cold," Sage stated. "I thought last night meant something…"

"Let her go," Mr. Firay ordered, rolling his eyes. "I thought you 'aren't interested in high school girls'?"

Sage chuckled and released me. "Feelings change, you know."

"In two days?"

"Maybe."

Mr. Firay rolled his eyes again. "Whatever. Daphne, let's go."

"Let's go?" I repeated, giving him a questioning look.

Mr. Firay nodded. "Now that Sage's here, we can get started."

"With what?"

"Teacher you how to fight, obviously," Sage responded for him, looking at me like I was the densest person on earth.

I stared back at him.

…What?

A/N. *pulls at hair* I'm sorry it's so short! I'll try to update again today, or tomorrow. Or Wednesday. :3 I should be looking up stuff for my science power point, but I've been writing-deprived –if that's even a word.

Oh, and for the title of this chapter was inspired by "When You Give A Mouse A Cookie". ^^ But When You Give A Student Detention…You're Really Not Allowed To! ^^ Lol.

I love Sage. He's just awesome to me. ^^ If I get enough of an ego boost, for sure, I'll update today. (EDIT: I WILL ONLY BE ABLE TO UPDATE WITH AN EGO BOOST. So I'm actually updating Wednesday. Tuesday if I'm happy and not as tired...)

Oh! And remember, if I'm able to get into the next round of "The Best Story of 2011" on Elligoat's profile, a whole week with five updates. Five. Yes, five.

(1)Glass Beakers can be used to mix and serve salad dressings and drinks.

~Lara