Things You Said While We Were Driving
He didn't know why he stopped. He'd seen scenarios like the one before him multiple times as he was making his way to his car, getting ready to go home after a long day of dealing with ridiculous students who never turned in their assignments on time and cracked one too many impromptu, unoriginal anatomy jokes. The joke, however, was usually on them, considering Stein had approximately .02% allotment for patience and it was already long gone by the time he got to class after dealing with traffic.
He was halfway to his car, mourning his decision to teach (who decided he was fit to do that, anyway?) when he spotted her peering into the rain.
Marie Mjolnir. Not quite brand new, but she certainly hadn't been in the school for any longer than two years, teaching her advanced placement calculus classes. Though, even one month into her becoming a teacher, she somehow managed to get everyone to adore her.
He suspected that, were she ever fired, the entire staff would downright riot.
Had she been anyone else, he'd be fine with simply strolling by with all the leisure of a man who watched the news each morning and all but memorized the weather forecast. The run to his car was particularly quick due to how close he'd parked, but with how heavy the rain was, he would still get soaked were he not in possession of an umbrella.
It seemed Miss Marie, as she preferred her students to call her, hadn't expected rain. He took a single look at how she stood under the flimsy awning of the school, likely getting ready to book it to the bus-stop, trying to cram all her hair into her jacket and worryingly clutching her bag, likely afraid it would get soaked.
Anyone else, he'd be absolutely fine with leaving behind.
They had only been driving for a total of four minutes before his fingers were itching for a smoke. Without thinking about it, he went to light his cigarette, foot firm on the brake pedal before he remembered his passenger. Courtesy was not one of his strong points, so he fidgeted awkwardly for a moment, wondering if he should just light the damn thing and leave it or ask.
He could have just given her his umbrella so he wouldn't have to worry about the scenario, but it was too late to back out, at that point.
Fuck it, he might as well ask. She could have half a lung, or some less common disease, which would be interesting. And, on the off chance she did have some respiratory issues, the resulting conversation could overtake the silence. Yes, that was a good plan.
"Do you mind?" he asked, waving the cancer-stick around for a moment before the light turned green and he secured the steering wheel with one hand. He saw Marie's eye go wide at his question before her gentle voice rang out.
"No! I mean, I don't mind—It-it's your car."
He almost chuckled at how sweetly panicked she sounded, how amusing it all was. Personally, he had no need for propriety: he never understood general manners or "common courtesy", as it were, so he didn't expect for anyone to make such large efforts of being polite.
But, then why had he even asked?
He pushed the thought out of his head and shrugged, shifting to steer with his elbow so he could light his smoke and then immediately went back to grabbing the wheel as usual, the cigarette in his left hand where he could tap the ashes out the window. He clicked the button to open his window more, just a crack, and took in the scent of the damp air.
Cigarettes definitely calmed him, though he knew all the conflicting studies. It was why, when a random driver, seemingly desperate to race to the red light, screeched their way into the lane of opposite traffic in order to bypass him, the wheels skidding as they nearly hydroplaned, he was barely phazed.
Stein, for all his years of driving, only blinked impassively as he slowed down, allowing the moron to scream to a halt after cutting him off.
But he downright jumped when he heard Marie.
"Get the fuck off the road!" she yelled to the other car, slamming her hand against the door and Stein feared for the safety of his car almost immediately when he heard the bang. He had insurance, of course, but he had heard rumors of how Marie'd been called the "Pulverizer" when she was younger.
He supposed that was why.
His eyebrows when up and when he turned to look at her and found her usually kind expression in a snarl, her singular eye glaring balefully, the corners of his lips tipped up. He chuckled, securely waiting at the red light. At the sound, she swiveled her head and met his gaze, looking immediately embarrassed. However, it only lasted a second. It was when she spied the genuine humor on his face that her expression was replaced with a sheepish smile, and she bit her lip, clearly trying to hold down giggles.
"Sorry," she told him, but he had the distinct impression that she was anything but.
Passenger's road rage. That was a new one, for him.
He tapped his cigarette out of the window.
What a woman.