Title: Vignettes - Part 26: Faculty Mixer
Author:
ladygray99Chapter: 26/36
Pairing: Charlie/Colby, Larry/Megan
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: Belongs to many other people, not me
Warnings/Squicks: crack!fic a little violence
Summary: What moments mark a friendship, a love, a marriage, a lifetime?
Previous chapters:
Kindergarten Notes: Yes folks here there be CRACK!FIC and much OOC behavior. I’m not entirely sure what it’s doing here but it was too much fun to get rid of. Also nicked a line from Bones
Beta(s): The amazing
irena_adler long may she write.
Faculty Mixer
Don opened the front door of his brother’s home and was pounced on, but not by the person he was expecting.
“Don, Don, tell me we have a case,” Colby pleaded.
“Um, no. Well, nothing urgent.”
“Come on, we must have something, anything, parking tickets. What have we got that’s cold?”
“Colby, you are going to Charlie’s faculty mixer and you will have a good time.”
“Don, have you met those people?!”
“Yep, but I’m not sleeping with one of them.”
Don gave an evil grin as Colby visibly ground his teeth.
There was the sound of small running feet and Don got the pouncing he’d been expecting.
“Uncle Don, Uncle Don, Uncle Don!” Esther gave a flying leap.
Don caught her, putting her on his hip. “Hello Sweetie.” He gave Esther a kiss on the cheek then looked at the still pained Colby. “Don’t worry. Megan will be there, too. You can cover each other’s back.”
Colby quickly sought out Megan in the vast university hall while Charlie went to fetch drinks.
“What do you think of the party?” she asked.
Colby looked around. “This isn’t a party; it’s a Star Wars convention.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. I watched some guys from Chem dump pure alcohol in the punch.”
“Drunk geeks. This could be interesting.”
“I’m just thinking that I could get fifteen pages in any psych journal out of this thing.”
“Forced socialization of academic sub groups.”
“Something like that.” Megan quickly took a step behind Colby’s large frame. “Hide me.”
Colby tried to make himself look bigger while trying to see the threat.
“Vile little troll from engineering.” Megan finally said. “Been hitting on me all night. Two more glasses of punch and Larry’s going to challenge him to a duel.”
“Really?”
“Two more glasses for me and I’m just going to shoot him.”
“You’re packing?”
“You have to ask?”
Colby looked at Megan’s dress. “Where do you keep it?”
Megan gave a smile and took another sip of punch.
Colby spotted something more urgent than Megan’s troll. “Excuse me.” Colby said, quickly headed across the room, abandoning Megan.
Charlie was talking with a woman in a dress that Colby thought was cut a little too short and a little too low. Charlie was oblivious but Colby was not up for playing this game. He slipped up to Charlie’s side, hip to hip, and casually draped his arm around the shorter man. Charlie gave him a quick bright smile. The woman scowled and excused herself.
“What was that?” Charlie asked.
“Math groupie.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
There was a crash from the other side of the room. Colby went into a crouch and reached for the shoulder holster that Don had made him leave at home.
“Sir,” Larry’s voice rung across the quickly silent room. “You have insulted my honor, my research, my department, my friend and my wife and I will not stand for it!”
“I accept your challenge.” Came a reedy voice from the floor.
“Charlie!” Larry called out. “South lawn, fetch my weapon.”
Charlie gave Colby a slightly crazed grin he’d never see before. “Don’t worry, Larry’s a master.”
“Master of what?”
On the south lawn, the party had regathered. Colby leaned over and whispered in Megan’s ear. “Aren’t you going to stop this?”
“Nope. He said nasty things about Charlie and string theory, so it’s not just about me.”
Off to one side, Larry waved a yard stick in lethal arcs while Charlie, standing as his second, rubbed his shoulders. Charlie pulled a stick of chalk from his pocket and Larry crumbled the chalk and rubbed between his hands. On the other side of the lawn, the engineer was warming up as well.
An elderly gentleman stepped forward. “A matter of honor has arisen between Sirs Fleinhardt and Heathrow. Standard rules. Three touches or first blood.”
‘First blood?’ Colby thought. He supposed the thin metal edge set into the wooden sticks could do some damage. But still...
The two men stepped forward as steadily as the copious amounts of alcohol in their system allowed.
The elderly gentlemen said, “Touch and begin.”
The two men touched the ends of their sticks and quickly jumped back, circling.
‘This is stupid.’ Colby thought until there was a vicious flurry of clashing yard sticks and a hard crack of wood hitting flesh. The engineer jumped back shaking his hand, a livid red stripe forming across it.
“Awarded. One touch. Fleinhardt.” Physics and by extension Math cheered. The sticks clashed again and the silliness of the situation slipped from Colby’s mind. He realized that this wasn’t classic fencing but if those sticks were replaced with real swords, either man could be lethal. Judging by the expressions on their faces, they would have preferred it that way.
The tip of Heathrow’s yard stick dropped suddenly and Larry yanked his foot back with a fairly foul exclamation.
“Awarded one touch, Heathrow. One all.” Engineering applauded. A moment later a second touch was awarded the same way.
“Move your feet Larry!” Colby found himself shouting out. Larry took a few steps back as if he was regrouping then leapt forward with a mighty swing, cracking the stick across his opponent’s ribs.
“Second touch Fleinhardt. Two all. Next touch to win.”
The two men pulled back, not willing to risk a full charge.
“You can take him Larry.” Colby called out.
Larry took a deep breath. “I’m getting too old for this.” Larry squared his shoulders and strode forward again into battle. Colby was surprised the sticks didn’t break, considering the force behind them.
Larry started strong then began to quickly lose ground, being forced back across the lawn on the defensive, when suddenly he lunged forward, scraping the sharp corner of the metal strip along his opponent’s neck.
“Third touch, blood, and victory. Fleinhardt.”
A great cheer went up from the crowd. Larry dipped Megan into a grand heroic kiss, claiming the right of the victor.
“That’s what you get for messing with a Fleinhardt,” Charlie lightly mocked the loser.
“Oh shut up, you jumped up little f...” Heathrow never got to finish his sentence because suddenly he found a large hand around his throat and his legs dangling a few feet of the ground.
“Now,” Colby said “I’m not sure exactly how you were planning on finishing that sentence, but I’m fairly sure I would have found it offensive. Now, since I’m not an academic like all you fine gentlemen here, I don’t have a handy dueling yardstick, so I would have to voice my displeasure with this.” Colby held up the gun that had been at the small of his back all night. The engineer’s eyes went wide. “And they’d never find what’s left of you.” Colby whispered. “Got it.” The engineer nodded franticly, the need for air becoming a little desperate. Colby dropped Heathrow and holstered his weapon. “You know, Charlie, I thought this party would be boring.”
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