Office #26, Tuesday

[chosehumanity]

The worst of Mitchell's twitches about last week were starting to wear off, but that didn't mean that he didn't still have a touch of the foul mood about him. In fact, he was on the phone with George right now.

Doing helpful things.

Like going off on him for his anal-retentive attention to dietary choices. "...We don't need pomegranates," he snapped, "They're not even really food! Oh, like you need an excuse, you're practically chained to the stove."

...Yes.

[[ the office, however, was open. like the post. ]]

Comments

[vanillajello]

Okay, so Mitchell was on the phone.

That meant that this was one of those rare times that Kate didn't just march in and slump down into what had by now pretty much become 'her' chair. She did have some semblance of politeness in her, after all. It was totally evident in the way she knocked on the doorframe.

Not so much in the amused smirk on her face.

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell glanced up and noticed her. He held up a finger. Hold on a minute--

"No, George, I'm not saying you should come over and show me how to clean my kitchen here. I like my kitchen the way it is." Beat. "It's got an oven, what else do I need--?"

There was a prolonged silence as George ranted on the other end of the line. Mitchell brought it down to his chest, and motioned again. "Kate, come in."

[vanillajello]

Kate sauntered in, and – surprise! – took a seat without being told to. She didn't say anything, but she raised an eyebrow, glancing at the phone.

Still oh so amused.

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell opened his mouth to respond and--

--heard something through the phone.

"For the last time, George, I am not doing IKEA. I've got a student. Bye."

He shut it with a click.

[vanillajello]

Kate was snickering. A little. "What's wrong with IKEA?"

[chosehumanity]

"It's a nest of evil and Swedish furniture," Mitchell said, pulling a face. "It's not important."

He quickly stuffed the phone back into his pocket. "I thought you'd be fleeing from Valentine's Day by now."

[vanillajello]

"Not until Thursday," Kate said, shaking her head and shifting in her chair to get comfier. "I still have class tomorrow."

... She realized something. Love and Romance. The class was Love and Romance. "Oh, fuuuck," she groaned. "I hope Drake doesn't love Valentine's Day."

[chosehumanity]

There was a slight pause as Mitchell tried and somewhat failed not to chuckle aloud. "You could try releasing a cat into the classroom and claiming it's you," he said. "What's your problem with love and romance?"

[vanillajello]

"That's a question that nearly made me cry at Turtle and Canary once." Not that she had any intention of doing that here. "I'm just not really a fan."

Except for those times when she was.

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell's eyebrows shifted up almost-- almost imperceptibly. "Uh huh."

[vanillajello]

"I have my reasons."

[chosehumanity]

"Suffering a bit of the Valentine's blues," Mitchell said, wisely. "George gets that. About once every two weeks."

[vanillajello]

"I'm not suffering anything," Kate shrugged. "But sounds like George needs to hook up with someone."

[atreideslioness]

Sometime before Max's class today, there was a light rapping at his door, and a slightly bemused Ghanima waiting to be acknowledged, so that she would not interrupt anything vital.


[SP?]

[chosehumanity]

See, now someone he didn't know, he couldn't ask to wait. "...Not now," Mitchell informed George, and promptly shut off the phone. "...Hi. Can I help you with anything?"

[atreideslioness]

"I should be making that offer, since I'm rather sure I took shameless advantage of the beer and movies you left for Max," Ghanima replied. "Professor Mitchell, yes? Ghanima Atreides. I've seen you at staff meetings, but I don't think we've properly introduced."

[chosehumanity]

"Just Mitchell," he said, reaching across the desk to offer a half-gloved hand. "Professor makes me feel ancient." Beat. "Oh, and have a seat, please."

[atreideslioness]

Ghanima accepted the hand with a smile before helping herself to one of the chairs. "I know the feeling," she commented wryly. "Every time one of my students addresses me as 'Lady Atreides', I start looking around for my grandmother."

[chosehumanity]

"If so," Mitchell said, cracking a slight grin, "You've had a lot of plastic surgery done. Maybe cloning."

[atreideslioness]

"Oh, I am older than I look," she replied easily. "But not that much older. Cloning is far too much work simply to gain a younger appearance."

[chosehumanity]

He couldn't help but try to smell the air just for a second, but he'd known from the first she didn't smell like vampire in the slightest. Mitchell shrugged lightheartedly. "We've all got our own secrets in that regard," he said, "Not just cloning. Skin cream, blood of virgins, terror of the students."

Mitchell, you were talking weird again.

[atreideslioness]

No, no smell of vampire, although perhaps a strong scent of cinnamon and sand.

"The fear and hilarity when I actually assign them work is good for the soul," Ghanima agreed. "I made them all dress up and put on a play, once. Or when I painted them blue. No sense of humor, these children."

[chosehumanity]

"I think I heard about that one," Mitchell said, pulling a bit of a face. "I think some of them have some issues."

Mitchell, clearly, had none.

[atreideslioness]

"You would think, with the number of would-be heroes, that more of them would be better at not-panicking under unexpected situations," Ghanima sighed. "I was so very disappointed. Luckily, some of my more timid students did pass with flying colors."

"Although if someone didn't have issues, I doubt they'd be here." Yes, Mitchell, Ghanima's including the teaching staff in that statement too.

[chosehumanity]

"Yeah?" Mitchell asked, whatever outrage he had felt at the time having dissipated somewhere in the meanwhile. "Now that sounds like a confession."