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rose_in_winterCharacter(s): Quistis, Seifer, Squall
Rating: G
Contains: N/A
Wordcount: 268
Notes: Written for the prompt "experiment gone wrong"
Betas: N/A
Summary: The two of them are a lesson in chemistry.
She should not have let them be lab partners, but everyone else is afraid to partner with Seifer. This was inevitable.
Still, as Quistis sits at the front of the room ostensibly grading papers, she profoundly wishes she had somewhere else to be, somewhere without Seifer complaining loudly about cleaning up the mess that resulted when he mixed the wrong items and filled the room with a cloud of dust.
"Seifer, as head of the Disciplinary Committee, consider setting a better example," she says.
He glares at her. "Like Squall," she adds.
Squall doesn't look up from the section of floor he's mopping. Seifer flings aside his broom with a clatter and strides down the aisle, slamming his hands down on her desk and looming over her. She refuses to flinch, instead meeting his gaze directly.
"You got a problem, Instructor?"
"I should be asking you the same." She marks the wrong answer down on the quiz. "You were assigned a task, cadet. Complete it." The coolly authoritative tone sits awkwardly on her, like a uniform that didn't have all the soap rinsed out in the laundry, but she's been practicing it to her mirror all week and it must've done some good, because he backs away and goes back to his task.
In her mental log book, she marks down one successful experiment, and one failed.
Rating: G
Contains: N/A
Wordcount: 268
Notes: Written for the prompt "experiment gone wrong"
Betas: N/A
Summary: The two of them are a lesson in chemistry.
She should not have let them be lab partners, but everyone else is afraid to partner with Seifer. This was inevitable.
Still, as Quistis sits at the front of the room ostensibly grading papers, she profoundly wishes she had somewhere else to be, somewhere without Seifer complaining loudly about cleaning up the mess that resulted when he mixed the wrong items and filled the room with a cloud of dust.
"Seifer, as head of the Disciplinary Committee, consider setting a better example," she says.
He glares at her. "Like Squall," she adds.
Squall doesn't look up from the section of floor he's mopping. Seifer flings aside his broom with a clatter and strides down the aisle, slamming his hands down on her desk and looming over her. She refuses to flinch, instead meeting his gaze directly.
"You got a problem, Instructor?"
"I should be asking you the same." She marks the wrong answer down on the quiz. "You were assigned a task, cadet. Complete it." The coolly authoritative tone sits awkwardly on her, like a uniform that didn't have all the soap rinsed out in the laundry, but she's been practicing it to her mirror all week and it must've done some good, because he backs away and goes back to his task.
In her mental log book, she marks down one successful experiment, and one failed.