A/N: MANY apologies for the lateness of this update. Things have been busy with school and work – and I've missed writing so much. Back again – hope to give quick and speedy and fun updates. Review/comment! (I hope everyone knows that this story in particular is a very BIG part of the series – so keep an eye out for updates and pay attention.)
Chapter Five – Undercover Professors
The schedule for either brother didn't seem too bad. (It wasn't as if they were planning a permanent job. They weren't even sure if they were staying for more than a weekend). But everything had to be checked. Those linked with the Demon (like Mary Winchester) were linked to this school. Sam found he was given three classes a week to sophomore-level girls. He knew Business Law like the back of his hand – and teaching it to a group of fifteen-year-old girls didn't bother him. Dean, on the other hand, was not as joyful by the flexibility of his own schedule: four Physical Education classes a week – two groups (one involving the older girls, the other including the younger girls), and Dean, as Professor Young, also had to set up some sort of gathering involving all the girls to discuss any emotional or mental strain – yes, Dean was now a guidance counselor.
"You think they're going to yap about...you know…girl stuff?" Dean asked awkwardly as he tied a black tie around his white collar. It was close to eight-thirty, the next morning, and it was their first day as professors. No teaching was required for today – more of a 'meet-and-greet' discussion.
Sam, sitting on the edge of a bed with floral coverings, polished his black shoes and looked up with a grin. "I'm sure they won't get too detailed."
Dean stared at himself in an oval-shaped mirror on a cherry-wood dresser. He stared at his normal Blues Brother suit. "I'm gonna lose the jacket," he announced. He loosened his tie a bit and ran a hand through his hair. "So, tell me…" he turned around smoothly and held his hands out in a debonair-fashion. "Do I look too hot?"
Wrinkling his nose and sighing, Sam finished lacing his shoes properly and rose from the bed in his similar Blues Brother suit. "You're an idiot."
Pouting his lips, Dean turned his gaze back to the mirror. He carefully tucked the Demon-protection charm inside the shirt. "Okay…so…plan time…" Dean said officially. He turned around to Sam. "When we get our lunch breaks, I cover the first and second floor. You'll cover the third and the stable. Who knows…we could be dealing with haunted ground."
"There's not much history on this place," Sam sighed. He rubbed his chin tiredly. "Nothing too-out-of-the-ordinary in this area. We'll each take EMF – you'll take your hand-made appliance-"
"Why do I get the crappy one?" Dean snapped.
Sam grinned: "Because you made it."
"Fine," Dean mocked, "I'll take the one I made…with my own hands…" He smiled proudly at himself. Dean picked up a brand new black briefcase from the floor. He opened it on his bed – the case was filled with a variety of papers – most fake – and pens and pencils properly placed in the pockets. Dean lifted a small metal latch on the insides of the felt. Sure enough – Dean removed the thin backing to the briefcase – revealing a row of knives and a small flask with holy water.
"I sure do love how we improve our incognitoness."
Sam, taking his own briefcase and ensuring his EMF device was placed safely inside, rolled his eyes annoyingly. "Dude, you have to stop talking like that – and stop making up words."
"What?" the older Winchester snapped. He was beginning to grab his things.
"We're professors…" Sam reminded strictly. "Use proper grammar. You're Dean Young, Professor of Psychology. Not Dean Winchester – Demon Hunter."
Frustrated, Dean cracked his neck and nodded. "Alrighty. Will do that. C'mon, let's snag some breakfast."
Their first breakfast at Laurel Academy had been filled with the meeting of small smiles, giggles and whispers, or stares that warned the Winchesters they were under suspicion. The girls, dressed appropriately in their maroon uniforms, sat within their groups and cliques of friends. The older girls waved bravely and said "Good morning" as Dean and Sam walked the large aisles – in between several rows of large beige tables – and sat down by themselves at the end of one of the tables. The younger girls smiled bashfully and some were engaged in whispers on who the new teachers were. The teenagers were struggling to get a good glance. Sam, taking his silverware slowly to eat his eggs and bacon, nodded nicely to a group of ten-year-olds who were staring right at him. The girls whipped their heads around to each other and began to engage in excited conversation. The words "cute" and "hot" were picked out from the conversations amongst the room. Except for the rest of the staff. The group of female teachers each sat with a seat in between them. They were all in their thirties or older. Dean Enyart was seen at the head of the table, talking to two other women – maybe administrators – and, of course, their talk was of the new professors.
Dean was thankful for the strong coffee. He took small, grateful sips and tried to avoid eye contact with the female teachers sitting at the table over. He leaned on his elbows and whispered: "Have these people not seen a man in…years?"
Sam, trying to hide the obvious laugh, shook his head nonchalant. "Eat your breakfast. We go to class – meet the girls – at lunch – we work. Got it?"
"Alright Professor Evans," Dean snapped as he took a bit of a warm biscuit. He closed his eyes in ecstasy and – mouth filled with bread – exclaimed: "Damn, this breakfast is good."
"Sssh!" Sam ordered.
The students sitting at the table with them, just a few chairs away, giggled and went back to their breakfast.
Sam had a cold feeling crawl up the back of his neck. He tried to avoid the eyes behind him that questioned their reason for being there. Yes, the school was just for girls – and it allowed male staff – but why come here? Sam knew that was the basis of their questioning. He tried to avoid the embarrassing feeling of staring at a group of students. His eyes wondered around the cafeteria instead. It was more of the size of his old high school gym. There were several, elegant fans above with antique bulbs. More paintings of past alumni hung around the walls, including the occasional painted portrait of the Boston landscape. Sam drank his own coffee, his way of avoiding anything around him, until his eyes caught a young girl eating her breakfast alone.
She sat at the last table, near the end, and there were at least fifteen chairs that separated her between a group of girls similar in age. Sam stared sadly at her. She had an adorable face – large cheeks, small mouth, big eyes protected by glasses with thick black rims. Her tray of food – barely eaten – was pushed off to the side. In front of her was a thick book – she was opened to the middle of it. The girl had her arms around her waist as she read, looking at the words carefully, and tenderly turning the pages. She had grayish-brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Occasionally, she took a sip from her small glass of milk, but continued her novel.
"Did you hear me?" Dean's voice erupted in Sam's ear.
Dean's whisper startled Sam for a moment, and when he came to, Sam stared back at his brother.
He pointed his fork at Dean Enyart, who had apparently announced that breakfast was over and that girls had fifteen minutes to arrive in class.
Sam nodded and kept a firm grip on the briefcase sitting beside him. "Keep to the plan. Cell phone on vibrate. Call if anything comes up."
"Aye aye, captain," Dean replied, stuffing his mouth with another biscuit and licking his finger at the same time.
Sam looked back at the little girl with the book, but found she was gone. All that was left was the small tray of barely-touched food.
Sam arrived on time to his classroom. There were six rows of five desks in each. Not all the seats were filled – for the summertime course, he only had eleven students.
He entered the room, at first hesitant, but quickened his steps to keep up appearances. The fifteen-year-olds all looked at him with interest and instant-crushes. Some girls straightened their posture and crossed their legs nicely to attract his attention. Slightly nervous, Sam placed his briefcase on his desk and adjusted his tie. The eleven pairs of eyes were still on him – studying him – waiting for him to speak.
Some girls, outside the class room, peeked in quickly as they darted to their other classes. Sam, standing behind the mahogany desk, mentally counted the number of girls in the class and announced: "Looks like we're all here. Let's get started."
There was no more noise coming from the halls. Girls were in their classes – and those who were not part of the summertime courses were instructed to remain in their rooms until noon, or take time outside.
The walls of the classroom were gray and had pictures of maps and of various presidents. Sam opened his briefcase, found a list of names, and closed the briefcase.
He walked around his desk, still hearing giggles from some girls in the back, and Sam sat on the corner of the desk.
He smiled sweetly and said: "I'm Professor Sam Evans. Obviously, I'm new." He smiled bashfully, meeting the grins of the other teens. "And…I'm your Business Law teacher for the time being."
"Hope it's a long time," a girl whispered in the back.
It was obvious the group of girls were not shy. Very coy, indeed.
"Well…let me call out names…" Sam held the list in his hands. "And we'll get to know each other a bit better."
"I am Dean Young – you can call me Dean – and I will not accept 'Sir', 'Professor', or 'Mister'…got it?" Dean said in an authoritative way.
The row of ten-year-olds giggled and nodded.
They were outside in the fresh morning. Some dew was still left on the thin blades of grass. The sun was friendly while it was still trying to reveal itself from the clouds.
The girls sat on a long cemented bench in the back of the school. All sat side-by-side, hands in lap, and looked at Dean with awe and admiration.
Yes, they had instantly fallen in love with their new teacher.
Dean had removed his jacket and tie and paced in front of the girls in a straight right-to-left line. Like someone in the military, Dean ordered: "We will have fun. We will get dirty. You will learn the values of good sportsmanship in flag-football, soccer, and perhaps some dodge ball. I know some of you are thinking 'But gee, we're just helpless little girls'…but guess what, you're not."
"We'll learn the basics of our Constitution which we can make connections to the law of business," Sam said, reading from a guide he had printed out earlier.
The girls smiled at him. Sam was grateful they were paying attention. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying the prospect of learning Business Law.
In fact, they were head-over-heels for him.
"And you won't have to wear your stiff uniforms – shorts and T-shirts and sneakers," Dean said proudly.
"But what if we get some dirty!" a girl in the middle cried, horrified.
Dean cocked his head and grinned. "It's the point! Escape that disgusting-scholastic shell of yours. Time to let loose! Party! HAVE FUN!"
Sam: "I don't expect major assignments since it's just a summer course. But we'll see. Maybe we'll even have Mock Trails – you guys can be the judge or jury, witnesses or bailiff…"
Dean: "Softball – but only fast pitch of course. I'm gonna see what you puny things are made of."
Sam: "How laws are made and put into effect…how law affects our trails' outcomes…some accounting principles…"
Dean: "If there's no blood on those jerseys, there's no point…"
Sam: "Business Law – knowing it – will help you in the future when you're doing simple things such as bank-related situations and you may one day receive a subpoena for jury duty."
Dean: "Algebra? Chemistry?" He gave a hearty laugh. "Like you'll ever use that when you get out of school – I know I haven't."
After an hour-and-a-half, Sam watched his "students" go and prepared for work. He knew Dean would be dealing with his second group of students before lunch. Sam had all the time in the world to explore the third floor and school grounds.
Sam found a safe place in the lobby to leave his briefcase. He took the EMF device and turned it on. He stuck the appliance into his pocket with the antenna sticking out. The small ear pieces attached to the device were now resting comfortably in Sam's ears.
His job: Third floor and school grounds. It would be too risky to explore the third floor with girls still in their rooms; plus, if he had been caught: Try explaining that one… Agreed, it was safer to explore the academy's grounds.
Sam walked through the front entrance and carefully circled around the front courtyard for any detection. So far, there was barely a red light going off or a buzz to be heard. There was nothing on the EMF.
He looked around, irritated, and his eyes caught the horse's stable on the west grounds.
The stable looked old and unkempt. The planks of wood were old – even rotting a bit – and Sam stepped in the stable quietly.
On each side of him were five compartments where the horses remained. Some neighed quietly while the others still slept.
Sam, seeing no one around, pulled the EMF out, hoping to catch a better signal.
He walked slowly down the aisle, peering down at large stacks of hay and straw on the ground. He was halfway down the aisle, spotting a large stack of hay and straw, and his eyes widened in surprise and he almost dropped the EMF down.
The little girl – the one who had been eating breakfast alone – screamed and she dropped her book onto the ground and backed away into one of the horse's stalls. The horse, alarmed, neighed wildly and the little girl jumped back.
"Hey hey," Sam called soothingly. He stuck the EMF into his pocket and held his hands out protectively. "I-It's okay…" He smiled. "My name is Sam. I'm a new teacher."
The little girl pressed her thick-rimmed glasses further up her nose. She dusted off a few pieces of hay from her skirt. She seemed nervous. And scared.
Sam smiled softly and knelt down to pick up the book she had been reading. Wiping the dirt from its cover, Sam looked at the book and smiled in an impressed way. "You're reading East of Eden." Sam looked up. The little girl nodded. Sam shook his head and said, "I love Steinbeck…gee…I read this book in my sophomore year for an Honors class." He handed the book gently to the girl. She accepted it kindly and tried to smile – but her nervousness got the best of her.
The little girl rose from her position before Sam.
"What's your name?" Sam asked gently.
The girl gulped and answered: "Felicity."
Sam nodded. "Well, Felicity. I'm glad that someone – as young as you – has found interest in Steinbeck. How old are you?"
"Wow, very impressive…" Sam noted. "What were you doing here?"
Sam nodded. "So I guess you're one of the lucky ones who got to stay at school for summer, huh?"
Felicity nodded. "I was going to go back home to Texas…b-but my parents decided to take a trip to Germany…" She looked up sadly. "W-Without me."
His heart ached instantly for her. He smiled at her tenderly and motioned that they walk out the stable together.
"Do you often read by yourself?" Sam asked as they walked on the pathway back to the school.
Felicity held Steinbeck's East of Eden to her chest. It was a precious treasure, obviously. "I…" she had a small stammer. But she was still nervous about the attractive young man with her. "I read in the stable because it's quiet. The girls at this school are noisy."
Sam laughed. "So…Steinbeck, huh? What else do you read?"
"Ken Kesey…Oscar Wilde…Nathanial Hawthorne…" She listed easily, as if someone had asked her to list members of her family.
Impressed, Sam stuck his hands into his pockets and noted, "Well, that's excellent Felicity. You'll do well in the future. Do you know what you want to do when you grow up?"
She shrugged her shoulders plainly. She was getting used to him – obviously – and she looked up at Sam questionably. "You don't seem the type to teach. And too young."
He laughed nervously. "Nah, I'm just an overachiever."
"Isn't there a new guy who came with you?"
"Yeah, he's my –" Sam stopped short. "My colleague. We both taught in Chicago before."
Felicity nodded. She seemed relived when they came back to the entrance of the school.
"I'm gonna go back to my room and read," Felicity announced. She gave Sam a small grin, revealing the tiniest gap in her front teeth. "Thanks for walking me back."
"It's a scary school, you know."
Sam suddenly remembered why he was at Laurel Academy in the first place…
"Felicity," Sam called. The girl stopped before reaching the stairs. Sam approached her and knelt down. She was quite short – even for her age. "What do you mean scary?"
Felicity reacted as if she had said something she shouldn't have said.
"I just…" Felicity thought carefully. "I-It's just…"
"You mean…" Sam tried to help. "What happened with Jill Mondy?"
The little girl instantly nodded. Sam raised his eyebrows sadly.
"Jill was my friend…" Felicity explained. "My only friend…"
At this, Felicity tried bravely to smile and to say goodbye, and she took off running up the stairs. Sam watched her carefully, studying her, wondering if she knew anything that was happening…
A/N: Will update ASAP – just had to get this part out of the way.
You all have no idea how tempting it is to write Amy into this story – I miss her! (weeps wildly). But it's important to just have a story with Dean and Sam and to focus on the goal at hand. Trust me, this story is very important on how I want it to go… Here's a hint: This story explains why Mary said "I'm sorry" in Season One's "Home."
P.S. ALSO, it took me a while to update because there was an error on the site on uploading documents. I hate it when that happens.
P.S.S. I can't wait for "Hollywood Babylon" on Thursday!