Haven't written fanfics in a very long time because I've been concentrating on writing my original books (and indie publishing them). But I was feeling nostalgic and tired of editing. So I started writing this as a way to clear my brain.

Typical disclaimer: I don't own the Slayers, or anything related to it except some random merchandise I bought. I'm not getting any money off writing this fanfic. In fact, I'm wasting time writing it as I could be spending this time on doing things that DO get me money. ...As I said above tho... Additionally, being self published, I have nothing worth taking. So this is entirely for shits and giggles.

This story will probably end up M rated because I'm just in that kind of writing mood.

It will contain romance and is a redemption fic.

It is a sequel to Divergent Theories and it is highly suggested you go read that one before continuing with this fic.

(I love DT! I was so high when I wrote it. lol Cough syrup rules.)


As a side-note: I seriously DISAPPROVE of Revolution and Evolution-R. These atrocities don't exist to me.

Zelgadis ran away crying because someone called him a monster.

I rest my case.


Shameless plug: Like my writing? Check out my website www (dot) NatanFleetShow (dot) com! Book 2 of my space opera series is for sale!



Rasmus closed the file on his desk. It was far too thick for his liking, and despite the fact that the young man's parents had donated generously, Dean Rasmus could no longer put up with Marron, second prince of Wytheria's behavior.

There was a soft tap on his open office door, and Marron crept in.

'Crazy how such a mousy looking boy could cause so much trouble.'

"Sit," Rasmus said.

Marron smiled and sat in the chair across the desk from Rasmus, perching on the edge like an eager child expecting to get candy. For a moment, Rasmus pondered how to proceed. He rarely had to expel students, but this one would be far more difficult, due to his position. "So am I graduating early?" Prince Marron asked. He was wearing a crown, despite school rules stating that such adornments were to be left at home.

"No. Marron-"


"Not here you aren't. Which has, I suspect, been the problem. You are not a prince while you are a student at this school. You are Student Marron, here for an education. Obviously this was not impressed upon you by your parents when they sent you here. Since you have come here, I have received twenty-seven complaints that you have molested women and girls in town. Sixteen counts of drunken brawling. Eight counts of theft. You have failed every class you have enrolled in due to absences and refusing to take tests or do assignments. And to make this clear, you enrolled in twenty-nine classes in the last three years."

Marron opened his mouth.

Rasmus slammed his palm down on the desk. "This is a school. An institution of learning. Not your personal party pad. I have given you ample opportunity to mend your ways. I should have expelled you at the first complaint of molestation! But this latest incident, I cannot overlook."

"You're kicking me out? You can't do that!"

"You broke one of the magical artifacts being studied here and set fire to the records!"

"I was framed!" Marron's face had turned red.

"No wonder you always lose at gambling. You have a terrible poker face."

Marron's face turned even darker red. "How dare you! My parents will hear of this!"

"I have already sent a copy of your file to them. They have been receiving reports on your progress every quarter since your arrival," Rasmus said flatly. "You are to pack your belongings tonight. Arrangements have been made to return you to Wytheria first thing in the morning. If you refuse to pack, you will be on the carriage without your belongings. You are expelled, Marron."

"You'll regret this! I'll make you pay!" Marron shouted as he get to his feet. He shoved his chair over and kicked it before exiting Rasmus's office. Paul gave a startled shout as Marron swept his arms across the aid's desk, sending papers flying.

Finally, the whirlwind had left and Rasmus got up to go assist Paul in cleaning up the mess.

"That went relatively well," Paul said with a sigh as he looked mournfully at the ink that had been spilled across the carpet.

Rasmus formed a time reversal spell between his hands and dropped it on the carpet. The ink sucked out of the floor and back into its pot instantly.

"Hopefully things will be quieter after tomorrow. Though I suspect Marron is going to cause as much trouble as he can in town while he can. But. He's no longer my student. They can arrest him and he can spend the night in jail before getting sent home." Rasmus rubbed his temples, his stomach churning with acidic, burning pain. Looking towards the window as the storm that had been brewing all day finally broke. "It's past five. I think I'm going to go get a nap before something else happens."

Paul sighed, "That lab fiasco had you up all night, didn't it?"

"Yes. I managed to salvage the files, but the relic is beyond repair." Rasmus sighed mournfully as he looked at the ceiling. "We could have learned so much from it. It was beautifully constructed; a masterpiece that had to have taken that mage a lifetime to perfect. Now it's dust." He lifted his hands, feeling again the soft grains that had been the ancient artifact, sliding through his fingers.

"It was a clock, right?"

"Maybe... But now we'll never know." Rasmus sighed. "I got the feeling it was containing something." He shook his head. "No use thinking about it anymore. It's broke and that's all there is to it... I need to figure out how to up security on the research labs without making it dangerous for teachers and their student assistants. Simple locks don't keep the rule-breakers out."

"Go home and get some sleep, Ras." Paul patted his shoulder. "As you said. There's no use thinking about it right now. Done's done."

"Yeah... You get some rest too."

"There's a large number of students graduating this semester - no. Ras. I've got it. Go get some sleep." Paul lifted a hand as Rasmus opened his mouth. "It's fine. I don't have half as much going on as you get involved in. Go sleep."

"All right..." Rasmus shook his head and triggered his teleport. Stepping back into the fog, he stepped out into his small apartment. Before he allowed himself to fall over on his couch he changed out of his robes into something more comfortable, then got the fire going again.



Rasmus sprawled on the couch in his apartment, one leg stretched out across it, the other resting on the low coffee table in front of the couch. He closed his eyes, listening to the rumbling of the fall storm that raged outside, dumping a heavy curtain of rain across Sairaag. Taking a breath, he sighed softly. Classes were over for the day, but that didn't usually mean that Rasmus was free of all duties as the Dean of the university. No, it usually meant he had to work twice as hard fixing issues the children got into after school. He lived well enough, he figured; he had an apartment of his own, which was becoming a pigsty exactly like David's apartment, though he made at least a little effort to pick up after himself. But it was damn hard, considering all the work he had to do. It was amazing he ever got the time to wash his clothes, he always ate out, and perhaps got about four hours of sleep a night. Rasmus made a point of being in his office at six in the morning, worked all day pushing papers or working with the various teachers when they came across a question of magic they didn't know the answer to. After the actual workday was done, he wasn't finished.

In the evenings, Rasmus wandered the town, visiting the clinic where Sylphiel had started training young women to be shrine maidens of the miraculously re-grown Flagoon which stood to the north of the present location of the city. He never saw her officially, though, he just worked with the doctors, using what knowledge he'd absorbed from David's world about medical practices to help them in their work of saving lives. Any time he actually did see her was when he was- he had to admit it, at least to himself- stalking her, crossing her path deliberately in her absolutely predictable everyday schedule.

Opening his eyes at a particularly loud crash of thunder, Rasmus sighed, trying to put down that ache in his heart. He still had the scars of David's crash on his chest, but that old wound had healed over fully. It was his thinking about Sylphiel that made him hurt. Though she'd offered her hand to him that day... nearly four years ago now, she hadn't wanted anything more to do with him than she had to. Rasmus had to respect that wish, no matter what he wanted, because he loved her still, and would die right on the spot if she told him to just keel over. He doubted she would, though, she was too nice to do something like that, too nice to tell him where to shove his feelings for her.

Lifting a hand, he pushed his hair back from his face. It had grown out considerably in the last few years, down to his mid-back where he usually kept it braided, his bangs falling loose across his forehead. The storm had abated somewhat, the rain lightening. It seemed that the only time he ever got any rest these days was when the weather was too nasty for anyone to be outside, but that just meant that the students were stuck indoors, trying to find some way to alleviate their boredom. The dorm managers could deal with that though, unless it was particularly serious, in which case, they could call him, using his modification of David's world's Telephone.

Thunder crashed outside and a new spat of rain poured from the sky. Rasmus let his head fall back on the arm of the couch once more. He should have been cleaning his apartment, but he just didn't feel like it.

The phone rang.

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Ras reached back over the arm of the couch to the side table and picked up the cordless receiver- the phone was magically powered, using scrying crystals, and so no chords were needed. "Yes?" he answered shortly.

"Ah, Dean Rasmus," sputtered one of the researchers of the chimera laboratory. Dr. Mendel, who was a brilliant man, but more than a little unpracticed in the art of conversation, "Um- ah, we've had a problem-"

Rasmus didn't bother waiting for him to stutter his way through a long winded explanation and simply stood, shaking wrinkles from his robes and pulled his shoes back on. This was exactly the reason why he couldn't do like David had always done upon getting home- which was strip to the boxers and sprawl on his couch. Hanging up the phone, Rasmus closed his eyes and tore reality, stepped through, and into the lab. Teleportation spells were handy like that. He didn't have to get wet if he didn't want to.

Dr. Mendel was still holding the receiver of the phone in his office, shouting at it. "Dean Rasmus!"

"I'm right here," Rasmus stated.

The short man jumped and spun around to face the copy of Rezo, blinking in shock behind his thick glasses. "I uh- oh!" he put down the pone. "Thank you for coming so immediately sir, I could have explained on the phone though, it's not that big of a problem. I mean, not really."

Rasmus turned away and started off to find someone who could get to the point, Mendel scampering along behind, still stuttering, "I mean, it's not like we couldn't just put it down, but really, after all the work we put into it, I mean, it would be nice to be able to control it rather than having to waste all our efforts."

Grinding his teeth, Rasmus somehow kept hold of his temper, expression falling into one of stoicism that he'd trained himself to have when on the verge of shouting in foaming fury. Which was probably why everyone thought that he didn't have a temper at all. It'd been a trick Rezo had used too, and admittedly, it did come in useful. People felt they could come to him with problems and he wouldn't get mad- a good thing for someone in a position of such power. Certainly they liked him better than they'd ever liked Dean Magus, but liking him wasn't really something that was part of the job description. So long as he didn't run the school into a hole financially and didn't summon demonbeasts in the basement laboratory connected to his office by a long set of stairs, then he was a good Dean.

Coming to a stop, Rasmus turned to face Mendel, "Where is it?" he asked, voice even and low.

"Oh, uh, the chimera? Well it's in the fourth holding cage..." the much shorter man didn't get the chance to continue, as Rasmus turned again and continued heading the direction he'd been going, intuition serving him well, once more. "It's quite savage, Dean Rasmus," Mendel sputtered and jogged to catch up with Rasmus's longer strides. "Quite! It mauled Dr. Courtney! He's in the clinic now, and what a mess he made, all over the floor and they're still not finished cleaning the hall. We can't get into the cage to clean, because it's broken its chain and pacing around savagely!"

Rounding a corner, Rasmus found several of the lab assistants mopping the floor, and a trail of blood leading in a long swath away from cage four and down the hall to the in-lab clinic. "Where was he injured?" Rasmus interrupted the flow of words to ask.

Blinking in confusion, it took Mendel a moment to backtrack, "Oh! Courtney, on the leg, sir, not a very deep wound but quite messy, I don't think they'll have to take the leg off unless it gets infected and oh what a mess- oh Cephied! Sir, you don't intend to go IN there?"

Rasmus had reached the cage the Chimera was in. It was now crouched in a corner near the back, whites showing around its dark eyes. It was a mix between a dog and a bear, the size of something in between the two and possessing of sharp claws and teeth. Opening the cage door, Rasmus boldly stepped in, the hem of his robes barely sweeping across the freshly mopped floor, and picking up a bit of blood from the other side. The animal whimpered and laid its black furry ears back, staring at him, nostrils flaring as it sniffed.

Reaching into his robe sleeve, Rasmus pulled out one of the sweets he kept for the children and unwrapped it. "Hey there," he said soothingly as silence fell behind him, the assistants and Mendel crowding around the barred door of the cage to watch in fascination as their Dean slowly moved closer, holding out the candy. The Chimera snuffled again and stretched its neck towards him, "Hey," Rasmus murmured, putting his audience out of mind in favor of taming the beast, "You just got frightened, didn't you. That big bad man with needles was going to poke you again, isn't that right." The Chimera's nose touched Rasmus's fingers and it shifted, slurping the candy from the Dean's hand and chewing it thoughtfully. Reaching into his sleeve again, Rasmus unwrapped a second candy and offered it, inching closer to the creature and finally laying a hand on its head. "There, there, it's alright now. You don't have to be frightened of me," he murmured and scratched under its jaw.

The beast leaned into his hand, slurping up the second candy greedily. Behind him, Rasmus could hear the lab workers murmuring in awe. Partially turning his head, Rasmus addressed them, without raising his voice. "Get back to work." They scurried away, out of sight, except for Mendel, who adjusted his glasses, simply standing there with wide eyes and mouth open.

Not another thought was spared the onlooker as Rasmus crouched so as to not be standing above the creature's head, continuing his work on soothing it, softly just talking to it. "You're a good boy, good boy. Yeah, you like that, don't you? Want another candy. Here you go. That's a good boy." Lifting its nose, the Chimera slurped Ras's face, leaning in and knocking the man over, crawling into his lap as the Dean put both his hands to work scratching his fingers through the creature's thick black fur. "You're just a big lapdog, aren't you?" he accused lightly, and the creature looked up at him with intelligent eyes set in a rounded face with a long muzzle. "Well, that's fine," he told it. "You're a good boy, and you'll behave now, won't you? Yeah- okay, yes, you love me, now- ugh." The Chimera had begun licking his face again, slobbering all over Rasmus's hair.

Slowly, Rasmus inched the Chimera off his lap and stood, scrubbing its head as it leaned against him happily, head at Rasmus's chest height. It's long bushy tail wagged, beating the wall with loud thumps. Turning, Ras walked over to the door of the cage, which Mendel opened for him, and managed to get the Chimera to stay and gave it another candy to occupy it while they got the door locked again. Turning to face Mendel- aware that his bangs were spiked up on one side and dripping slobber, he stated, "From now on, give it a sweet before shots, also, take it outside and play with it like a dog. I'm going to check on Courtney and after that, I'm going home."

Turning away, Rasmus followed the blood trail to the clinic, lifting a hand to attempt to get some of the slobber off his face with his sleeve. Courtney was propped up on a bed, not all that far from the door, devoid of his pants, but at least he wore briefs underneath. His thigh was bandaged lightly, and when Rasmus entered, the woman who was head of the clinic came over. "When I heard you'd come, I bandaged it lightly," she explained and peeled off the wrap.

"That bloody beast!" Courtney snarled, "I want it put down, Dean! I want it dead NOW!"

Running his fingers through his bangs, Rasmus finally got them to drop down to a more normal position, though they were still stringy and slimy. "That's hardly necessary," he stated, eyeing the scratch wound, which was stitched closed and had a coat of clear sealant on it. "Very good, doctor," he told the woman, "Go ahead and bandage it fully. It'll heal on its own in a week." She nodded and got to work. Rasmus turned his full attention to Courtney, reigning in his temper once more, "The incident is neither your fault, or the beast's, Dr. Courtney," he stated, "It was a reaction of instinct. You're a very large man, and every time you show up, the Chimera got a shot. It's natural that after a few pairings like that, it will think that you were the one that brought pain. I suggest that you visit the Chimeras you have to restrain to give shots to when they don't need treatments and give them a treat, and give them one after they get their shot as well. That should prevent something like this happening again unless the beast is truly savage instead of simply frightened."

Pressing his lips together, Courtney lost some of his bluster in the face of Rasmus's cool and sensible directions. Looking away, he muttered a 'yes sir', and Rasmus nodded. "Follow Dr. Neal's directions, and you'll be fine. Dr. Neal," he gave a polite nod to her and turned, heading from the room. Against what he'd told Mendel, Rasmus made a tour of the other cages, making sure the other Chimeras and animals were healthy and content, despite their being caged, gave another pat and scratch to the bear-dog, and finally decided that he'd had enough and teleported back to his apartment, only then realizing that the entire backside of his white robes were bloody, his front side was slobbered on and covered in black hair, and his hair felt terrible.

Scowling, he yanked his clothes off and time-reversed them to remove the stains, then headed for the bathroom to take a shower. Indoor plumbing had been one of the first things he'd figured out how to make on this world, having enjoyed hot showers far too much to just give up. They took a lot less time and used a lot less water than a bath usually did. And they were hot.

Climbing in, he unbraided his hair as stood in the first cold blast of water before it heated up. Heaving a sigh, Rasmus dearly hoped there were no other emergencies today. "Can't I just have a bit of time to myself?" he mournfully begged the shower wall he was facing, wishing David were there to talk to.

He missed David.

He could hear the phone ringing.

Setting his teeth, Rasmus ignored it and finished his shower. Surely they could wait ten minutes? When he got out, the phone was still ringing. Picking up the receiver, he said, "Yes?"

"This is Officer Yemez at the city jail. I have a Marron Wytheria here..."

"Keep him. He's not mine anymore."

Rasmus could hear the sadistic grin in the man's chuckle. "Expelled him finally?"

"Hm," Rasmus gave a noncommittal grunt. "He's got arrangements to be sent home in the morning. He's yours until then."

"Thank you sir!"

Rasmus hung up.