fic: bad omens :o
No I'm not insane... why do you ask? :p
Anyways, a Buffy/Community crossover. I KNEW I COULD MAKE IT WORK!
It has firmly been established in Jeff's mind that everything that happens either at or because of Greendale Community College is both insane and nonsensical, and that his life will never be normal again (or at least until he graduates). It has also firmly been established that most teachers who work there are completely insane (see: Chang, Ben and Bauer, June) or barely holding onto their sanity (see: Pelton, Craig and Duncan, Ian), so walking into Anthropology class and seeing a peroxide-blond leather-wearing motorcycle punk standing at the head of the class isn't as surprising as, well, as it should be.
The fact that Duncan's got his arm slung around the guy and the dean is petting his sleeve adoringly?
Those are just bad omens.
-
Once the rest of the class has trickled into the room, which is still decorated with spears and hanging pointy wooden things that the guy up front seems to be eyeing nervously, the dean starts clapping his hands to get attention. Behind him, Jeff can feel Britta rolling her eyes and Shirley tsking, but just because she can command attention with one glare doesn’t mean everyone has that power.
"Everybody, everybody. Settle down! We've got something exciting for you today! Professor Duncan's friend William- er, what was it you said your last name was again?"
The blond guy sighs. "Summers. William Summers."
"Right, because I could have sworn you'd said 'the Bloody' the first time I asked- though that can’t be right, silly me!- oh well, just a teensy misunderstanding- anyways, class, this is Professor Duncan's friend William Summers, here to talk to you about the culture of Victorian England. What what, everybody!"
"Cool," Abed says. "A guest star."
Annie raises her hand. "Excuse me, Dean Pelton, Professor Duncan, Mr. Summers, but if he's going to be lecturing about Victorian England shouldn't he be in one of the European Studies classes? Especially since Professor Wertham resigned because he wanted to spend more time reconstructing Stonehenge in his backyard and Professor Duncan has already taken over this class, I really don’t think-"
Summers gives Annie a very direct look. “It’s a personal favor to Ian, niblet.”
“And just because I am British does not mean I can teach all of you about Britain’s great history,” Duncan adds, crossing his arms and huffing. “Really, Miss Edison.”
“Niblet?” Shirley says. “What the hell does that mean?” However next to her, Annie is busy blushing, and Summers winks in their direction. Shirley gasps. “Oh!”
Britta leans forward and taps Jeff on the shoulder. “Hey, I think that this guy’s even more of a tool than you are. You two should get along great.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Jeff responds. “I thought that you would be all over the jaded, British accent, and wearing leather thing.”
Britta sniffs. “He’s not exactly my type, okay, I got over that after high school-” and is cut off when Summers turns toward them.
“Gossiping in class?” he asks. “Well that’s just right rude of you. You’re setting a bad example for the rest of the kiddies.”
“We’re not really kiddies, I mean Pierce is like 70,” Jeff says, but Summers puts out a pale hand.
“Compared to me you are,” he says, and Abed’s eyebrows raise. Jeff can hear him whisper something to Troy about Time Lords “Now, let’s start off class by talking about good ol’ Queen Vicky.”
-
They’re about twenty minutes into a long rambling lecture about how Queen Victoria created an oppressive society that wasn’t very conducive to artists, especially poets (um, what?) when Summers’s phone rings. He pulls it out and checks the caller ID, then frowns.
“Bollocks, it’s my girlfriend. Why don’t you all just discuss your favorite Victorian literature for a mo’ while I... carry on here.” As low murmurs start to occur in the room, he flips open his phone.
“What, Buffy, I’m in the middle of the bloody class- well I understand I’ve got to make time for you, especially since I lied about being dead and all but this is just ridiculous. I’m supposed to be teaching the youth of America here! Wha- yes, I’m wearing the bleeding ring, and yes, I’ll thank Red for conjuring it up soon as I get back- well of course I never forget to thank Willow! Because of that one time she turned evil, remember? Girl could dust me with a look.”
Jeff leans over to Britta. “I think he’s crazier than Ian, personally. And Ian can barely hold his liquor, which is the sign of a bad Brit.”
“Jeff, what are you even talking about- wait, he’s saying something about Shirley? Is he talking about Shirley?”
Summers is waving his arm emphatically, not seeming to realize that every single person is watching him. “Yes Buffy, I’m figuring out which bird it is! It’s either the mumsy housewife or the blonde chick in the brown leather jacket. And I’ve memorized the Watcher speech too- you know what, love, you are not being very supportive of your significant other at the moment. I think you should work on that.”
Jeff’s eyebrows are at his hairline. Britta just looks puzzled.
“Look, love, I’ve got to go. I’m going to break out the poetry examples now. Tell Red and Dawn hi for me. Love you, you crazy bint. Don't blow up any buildings without me, yeah? Bye.” He snaps his phone closed, only to find everyone’s eyes on him. Summers sighs.
“Okay okay,” he says, “class dismissed, right? You know what they say, it could have gone worse...” and as people start to file out, in the case of Starburns scratching his head confusedly, Summers glances at Shirley, considers her for a moment with slanted eyes, and then beckons to Britta. She waits at the front of the room, one eyebrow raised, while Jeff decides to lurk somewhere because well you know. This guy is psycho, and Jeff has a good six inches on him so he can... dive on him if he does anything rash and harmful.
“Hello, love,” Summers grins at Britta, and she looks simultaneously flattered and a little angry. “Don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced here.” His eyes flick over to Jeff, and then back away to the girl in front of him. “The name’s Spike.”
She takes his proffered hand. “I’m Britta Perry. Spike? I thought your name was William.”
“S’a old nickname. Anyways. Tell me, Britta, what do you know about vampires?”
Anyways, a Buffy/Community crossover. I KNEW I COULD MAKE IT WORK!
It has firmly been established in Jeff's mind that everything that happens either at or because of Greendale Community College is both insane and nonsensical, and that his life will never be normal again (or at least until he graduates). It has also firmly been established that most teachers who work there are completely insane (see: Chang, Ben and Bauer, June) or barely holding onto their sanity (see: Pelton, Craig and Duncan, Ian), so walking into Anthropology class and seeing a peroxide-blond leather-wearing motorcycle punk standing at the head of the class isn't as surprising as, well, as it should be.
The fact that Duncan's got his arm slung around the guy and the dean is petting his sleeve adoringly?
Those are just bad omens.
-
Once the rest of the class has trickled into the room, which is still decorated with spears and hanging pointy wooden things that the guy up front seems to be eyeing nervously, the dean starts clapping his hands to get attention. Behind him, Jeff can feel Britta rolling her eyes and Shirley tsking, but just because she can command attention with one glare doesn’t mean everyone has that power.
"Everybody, everybody. Settle down! We've got something exciting for you today! Professor Duncan's friend William- er, what was it you said your last name was again?"
The blond guy sighs. "Summers. William Summers."
"Right, because I could have sworn you'd said 'the Bloody' the first time I asked- though that can’t be right, silly me!- oh well, just a teensy misunderstanding- anyways, class, this is Professor Duncan's friend William Summers, here to talk to you about the culture of Victorian England. What what, everybody!"
"Cool," Abed says. "A guest star."
Annie raises her hand. "Excuse me, Dean Pelton, Professor Duncan, Mr. Summers, but if he's going to be lecturing about Victorian England shouldn't he be in one of the European Studies classes? Especially since Professor Wertham resigned because he wanted to spend more time reconstructing Stonehenge in his backyard and Professor Duncan has already taken over this class, I really don’t think-"
Summers gives Annie a very direct look. “It’s a personal favor to Ian, niblet.”
“And just because I am British does not mean I can teach all of you about Britain’s great history,” Duncan adds, crossing his arms and huffing. “Really, Miss Edison.”
“Niblet?” Shirley says. “What the hell does that mean?” However next to her, Annie is busy blushing, and Summers winks in their direction. Shirley gasps. “Oh!”
Britta leans forward and taps Jeff on the shoulder. “Hey, I think that this guy’s even more of a tool than you are. You two should get along great.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Jeff responds. “I thought that you would be all over the jaded, British accent, and wearing leather thing.”
Britta sniffs. “He’s not exactly my type, okay, I got over that after high school-” and is cut off when Summers turns toward them.
“Gossiping in class?” he asks. “Well that’s just right rude of you. You’re setting a bad example for the rest of the kiddies.”
“We’re not really kiddies, I mean Pierce is like 70,” Jeff says, but Summers puts out a pale hand.
“Compared to me you are,” he says, and Abed’s eyebrows raise. Jeff can hear him whisper something to Troy about Time Lords “Now, let’s start off class by talking about good ol’ Queen Vicky.”
-
They’re about twenty minutes into a long rambling lecture about how Queen Victoria created an oppressive society that wasn’t very conducive to artists, especially poets (um, what?) when Summers’s phone rings. He pulls it out and checks the caller ID, then frowns.
“Bollocks, it’s my girlfriend. Why don’t you all just discuss your favorite Victorian literature for a mo’ while I... carry on here.” As low murmurs start to occur in the room, he flips open his phone.
“What, Buffy, I’m in the middle of the bloody class- well I understand I’ve got to make time for you, especially since I lied about being dead and all but this is just ridiculous. I’m supposed to be teaching the youth of America here! Wha- yes, I’m wearing the bleeding ring, and yes, I’ll thank Red for conjuring it up soon as I get back- well of course I never forget to thank Willow! Because of that one time she turned evil, remember? Girl could dust me with a look.”
Jeff leans over to Britta. “I think he’s crazier than Ian, personally. And Ian can barely hold his liquor, which is the sign of a bad Brit.”
“Jeff, what are you even talking about- wait, he’s saying something about Shirley? Is he talking about Shirley?”
Summers is waving his arm emphatically, not seeming to realize that every single person is watching him. “Yes Buffy, I’m figuring out which bird it is! It’s either the mumsy housewife or the blonde chick in the brown leather jacket. And I’ve memorized the Watcher speech too- you know what, love, you are not being very supportive of your significant other at the moment. I think you should work on that.”
Jeff’s eyebrows are at his hairline. Britta just looks puzzled.
“Look, love, I’ve got to go. I’m going to break out the poetry examples now. Tell Red and Dawn hi for me. Love you, you crazy bint. Don't blow up any buildings without me, yeah? Bye.” He snaps his phone closed, only to find everyone’s eyes on him. Summers sighs.
“Okay okay,” he says, “class dismissed, right? You know what they say, it could have gone worse...” and as people start to file out, in the case of Starburns scratching his head confusedly, Summers glances at Shirley, considers her for a moment with slanted eyes, and then beckons to Britta. She waits at the front of the room, one eyebrow raised, while Jeff decides to lurk somewhere because well you know. This guy is psycho, and Jeff has a good six inches on him so he can... dive on him if he does anything rash and harmful.
“Hello, love,” Summers grins at Britta, and she looks simultaneously flattered and a little angry. “Don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced here.” His eyes flick over to Jeff, and then back away to the girl in front of him. “The name’s Spike.”
She takes his proffered hand. “I’m Britta Perry. Spike? I thought your name was William.”
“S’a old nickname. Anyways. Tell me, Britta, what do you know about vampires?”