Title: Flirt (1/1)
Summary: The question ("Are you married, Mr. Schuester?") really should have tipped him off.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners (like Ryan Murphy and FOX). I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own Glee. I am merely a fan of the television show who has ideas for things that RIB could do/could've done.
Author's Note: This is a oneshot that happens before the show begins as the Cheerios have yet to join Glee and Schue doesn't really know Quinn. Don't worry, he gets to know a specific side of her in this. Please review if you read.
Bells barely ever meant anything. Class bells went off, and another group of tired, angsty teenagers who hated French would pile into the room. Typically, he waited, flipping through the papers of the period before until the class quieted down. On that day, a small clearing of the throat caught his attention.
Will Schuester raised his gaze to the face of one of his students. He couldn't quite remember her name, but it was only the first week of school.
"Hello," Will said.
"Are you married, Mr. Schuester?" she asked.
"You just don't seem the type is all," she answered.
"What is the type?"
"I can't describe them, you just know them when you see them."
"And I don't look the type?"
"Not really," she said.
"That's too bad. Terri won't be happy to hear that," he said.
"Are you guys newlyweds?" she asked.
"We're going to be five years in March," he told her.
"That's a long time, Mr. Schuester. Is the spark running out yet?" she wondered.
"No. I'm still very much in love. Again, I ask why you're asking all these questions."
"Just curious is all," she said, "You've got a little something on your shirt."
"Yes, right there," she reached over to move the little thread of red fabric from the bottom of his shirt. The location brought her hand very close to his belt. His breath hitched (what is this girl doing?) but he forced himself to let it out. She probably had no idea what she was doing. She was probably ridiculously innocent and just being sweet.
"All gone," she whispered, and then she patted the freshly clean spot, hand almost slipping lower on the second tap. His thoughts of innocence went away. He looked at her face and caught the sly grin. She leaned back up, bringing herself back fully to her side of his desk. She smoothed down her ridiculously short cheerleading skirt.
"Thank you, Miss…"
"Fabray. Quinn Fabray, I sit right there, in the third row," she said. He nodded, trying not to catalog that information.
"Shouldn't you be headed to class?" Will asked.
"It's lunch now, Mr. Schuester. I've got an entire thirty minutes until I have to do anything. The entire school is pretty much empty, quiet, private."
She grinned again.
"Well, I've got plenty of papers to grade. Why don't you go ahead and spend some time with your friends?" he suggested.
She sighed, "Alright, I haven't seen Santana and Brittany make out in a while. Guess it's time for an encore."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Schue," she said before turning away. Her hips swished in her exit, dangling like a bone on a string before a very, hungry dog.