Lechery is The Golden Mean (Gideon)

[DR. FINN THOMAS]

Finn Thomas was not exactly a teacher at this university. But fuck if he knew any less about math than the stupid idiots who taught here. Honest to God, the kids in this class were almost as clinically retarded as the kids in his AP Calculus class back at Baum. And that was saying something, because those kids back at Baum couldn’t tell an IOF .32 Revolver from a TKB-059 Assault Rifle if both of them walked up and kicked every single student in the-

No. No guns. What the fuck did I say about guns? I’m trying to teach a lesson here, you little shit.

”Buttttt the childrennn are ever so vuln-“

Shut the fuck up or you’re not watching the Criminal Minds finale during my next free period. And I heard he gets the girl in this one.

Silence. Good.

“And in conclusion, the space of NxM matrices is isomorphic to the vector space, Rnm. Unless the indexing of a gradient with respect to X is transposed as compared with the indexing of X, in which case you’re pretty much fucked. Everyone understand?” Nobody moved. Finn rolled his eyes. “I said, does everybody fucking understand? Raise your hand if you understand. C’mon, I want to see every hand in the room up. That means every hand, goddamnit. That’s not enough fucking hands!” Finn smiled to himself as the hands slowly raised. Substitute teacher, his ass. Finn knew who really owned the place. God, he was so excited to watch Judge Judy on the flat screen HD TV in the back of this classroom during next block’s planning period. Finally, he shook his head. “I’m just kidding. I couldn’t give less of a damn whether you little shitheads understand this or not. But it will be on the test.” He chuckled to himself. Damnit, he should be a comedian.

“Speaking of tests,” he continued, pulling his top drawer open and removing a large stack of papers. “The class average for yesterday’s was a 37.9.” He clapped lightly. “Big Fat Fs, as usual.” He folded his fingers into a Big Fat F, grinning. “My specialty. Of course, we did have one A+, but…”

His eyes flitted to the kid. The kid. God, he loved that kid. He didn’t even know why. Finn didn’t even know his name, but everything he said was so goddamn hilarious to Finn. Best kid in the world. Great kid. He was happy with this kid. If he had a happy list, this kid would totally be on it.

Gideon. Gideon Glassssssssssss.

I said shut up, you damn voice. Criminal minds finale, remember?

But look at him. Hardly any meat on his bones. What about that hudgy-pudge in the corner? Let me at him. I’ve got Satan at my-

Finn had just about had it with this guy. Voice, you’d better shut up or I am going to give you a Big Fat F. BIG FAT F, VOICE YOU HEAR THAT? I will get out a piece of paper right now, and I will write ‘Voice’ at the top, and then, in red pen, I will write, and I quote, ‘BIG FAT F.’ BIG FAT F, VOICE. BIG FAT F.

Silence again. Much better.

“You’ll all be thrilled to know that Apple is up 5 points,” he announced, scrolling through his stocks. “So anyone who shops at the Apple store today gets ten extra minutes on tomorrow’s quiz. And trust me, you’re going to need them. I really, really hated the Judge Judy episode I was watching while I wrote it last night.” He hummed a pirate shanty to himself while clicking through his recent tabs. “I’m going to be announcing this on the loudspeaker later as well, but the weather in Mozambique is partly cloudy, with a high of 88, humidity of 48%, and a dew point of 71 degrees.” He waited. “Well? You’re not nearly excited enough. I SAID YOU’RE ALL NOT NEARLY EXCITED ENOUGH.”

He watched as the students scrambled to convey their excitement. So. Gideon Glass.

There were still ten minutes left in his class, and he’d just about had it with these idiots and their dumb questions. Honestly. How hard was it to grasp the simple concept that the surface integral could be defined component-wise according to the definition of the surface integral of a scalar field, resulting in a vector? Finn wasn’t sure how much more simply he could put it. These little bitches were going to die when they got to partial derivatives. Finn stood up from his desk and walked to the black board. “So, dumbfucks, I’m going to be making some lists for all of you. Here we are.” He drew two columns, one with an enormous smiley face on the top, the other with a lovely drawing of a middle finger. “This is my happy list, and this is my sad list. Now, my sad list includes…” He glanced in towards the back, where two dumb kids were whispering and giggling about something. “Ey! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Shithead! You’re not on my happy list!” He scrawled their names beneath the middle finger. “You know who is on my happy list? Fucking Gideon Glass. That kid cracks me up. Really does.” He had just begun to write the first G in large, elegant lettering beneath the smiley face, when the bell rang.

The students began to file from the room. “Study for the test!” called Finn, drumming his fingers on the desk. “Page 346, numbers 7, 13, 24, 36a, 39, 40, 63, 89a, 89b, and 103.”

Several students groaned. “Why don’t you ever just assign us like, 1-103 for homework? Or something simple?” groveled one measly little twig whose name was like, Liam or something.

Dr. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Alright, Liam’s homework is now Page 346, numbers 1-103. Everyone else, enjoy your evening.” He sat back down in his chair. Ah, life was good.

[GIDEON GLASS]

Gideon had always been exceptionally good at math. From the day he had learned his multiplication tables ten times faster than the other students all the way up to this high-level math class, he’d always had an insatiable talent for working with numbers, variables, calculations… anything. It was one of the reasons why he was so exceptional at his chosen branch of study, Chemistry. After all, it seemed like half of chemistry was difficult and complex calculations that most of his classmates seemed incapable of.

This was one of those times when Gideon was right on track with the subject material while the rest of the class was floundering. He felt like he was perched on a raft of understanding in a sea of confusion in which all the other students were drowning—well, that was a very cliché simile, indeed. He wouldn’t be reusing that one. But the image was accurate enough.

Enough daydreaming, though, he had notes to take.

“And in conclusion, the space of NxM matrices is isomorphic to the vector space, Rnm. Unless the indexing of a gradient with respect to X is transposed as compared with the indexing of X, in which case you’re pretty much fucked. Everyone understand?” Gideon nodded, jotting down everything Dr. Thomas had just said. He had a fair amount of respect for the man. Though he had initially been alarmed by his vulgar language and uncouth behavior, he had discovered that the man really did know what he was talking about when it came to math. “I said, does everybody fucking understand? Raise your hand if you understand. C’mon, I want to see every hand in the room up. That means every hand, goddamnit. That’s not enough fucking hands!” Gideon raised his hand – his had shot up before anyone else’s. “I’m just kidding. I couldn’t give less of a damn whether you little shitheads understand this or not. But it will be on the test.”

Gideon chuckled under his breath, putting a star next to the section in his notes as he heard the students around him groan. It was their fault for not studying harder.

“Speaking of tests,” he continued, pulling his top drawer open and removing a large stack of papers. “The class average for yesterday’s was a 37.9.” He clapped lightly. “Big Fat Fs, as usual.” He folded his fingers into a Big Fat F, grinning. “My specialty. Of course, we did have one A+, but…”

Dr. Thomas’s eyes trailed to him, and Gideon met his gaze, pushing up his glasses slightly. There was a pleased glint in his eye. The only A+ in the class? Well, that was an accomplishment… 37.9, really? He stifled the urge to cast a condescending glance of superiority at his classmates. He had urges like that sometimes, but he was too polite to act on them.

“You’ll all be thrilled to know that Apple is up 5 points.” Dr. Thomas was talking about something not related to math, but Gideon remained tuned in anyway. “So anyone who shops at the Apple store today gets ten extra minutes on tomorrow’s quiz. And trust me, you’re going to need them. I really, really hated the Judge Judy episode I was watching while I wrote it last night.” Right, well. He did have a bit of extra time today, might as well go to the Apple store and buy himself a gift card or something. Gideon never passed up an opportunity for extra points on a test.

“I’m going to be announcing this on the loudspeaker later as well, but the weather in Mozambique is partly cloudy, with a high of 88, humidity of 48%, and a dew point of 71 degrees.”

Knowing Dr. Thomas well enough by that point, Gideon wrote that down. He also made a note to check the weather in Mozambique tomorrow before he came to class and have both days’ weather reports memorized, just in case. It wouldn’t be unlike the snappy substitute to put something like that on an exam.

“Well? You’re not nearly excited enough. I SAID YOU’RE ALL NOT NEARLY EXCITED ENOUGH.”

He didn’t try to convey his excitement too greatly. The students around him were so terrified already that they had excitement to spare him.

Gideon had gone back to rereading his notes and doing practice problems by the time Dr. Thomas spoke aloud again.

“So, dumbfucks, I’m going to be making some lists for all of you. Here we are.” He drew two columns, one with an enormous smiley face on the top, the other with a lovely drawing of a middle finger. “This is my happy list, and this is my sad list. Now, my sad list includes… Ey! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Shithead! You’re not on my happy list!” Gideon had to try very hard not to laugh as he watched the professor write their names under the large middle finger. “You know who is on my happy list? Fucking Gideon Glass. That kid cracks me up. Really does.”

Cracks him up? Gideon’s dark eyebrows descended a fraction. Not that he had any problem being on the professor’s good list. He was very happy to be on that list, and he planned to keep himself there. But the concept that he ‘cracked him up’ implied that he was not being taken seriously, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Then again, Dr. Thomas didn’t seem to take a lot of things very seriously, so maybe it was some sort of underhand compliment.

But he wasn’t an optimist.

The other students began to leave the room as the bell rang, but Gideon remained in his seat. “Study for the test! Page 346, numbers 7, 13, 24, 36a, 39, 40, 63, 89a, 89b, and 103.” He jotted all of that down, paying more attention to that than to that poor Liam kid being assigned far more problems to do. Best not go back to his dorm. At this time of day, that asshole Scott Parker would be blasting Madonna or some shitty music he hated, and he wouldn’t be able to work, anyway. He could go to the library, but that was a long walk, and he was tired today. No, unless Dr. Thomas gave him a reason to leave, Gideon decided he would stay right here for a while and do some work.

He pulled his math textbook in front of him and opened it up to page 346, flipping to a blank page in his notebook. Pencil in one hand and calculator in the other, he set diligently to work, so absorbed in his efforts that he would not notice Dr. Thomas unless the man spoke to him directly. He did, however, speak to himself under his breath, reciting the notes.

“Isomorphic to the vector space…” He pressed the end of his pen to his lips, biting it absently. “Unless the gradient…mmm…” With that in mind, he began hurriedly scrawling calculations.

[DR. FINN THOMAS]

Ah, what a wonderful class this had been. Finn hummed Chopin’s Polonaise in C-Sharp Minor, rummaging through his desk to find the remote control. Reclining in his chair, he flicked the TV on and began scrolling through the channels. Judge Judy. Judge Judy. Where the fuck was Judge fucking Judy? C’mon, c’mon, it had to be on here. He’d seen a commercial for it last night! “Judge Judy Marathon” it had said. Clearly. As clearly as it was possible for a fact to be stated. A fucking artichoke would understand that there was a Judge Judy Marathon today. So where was the damn Judge Judy marathon? Finn scrolled up and down for what seemed like the seven hundred and sixty third time. Damnit, this was his only free period today. And he couldn’t write tests without Judge Judy! It had to be here. It had to be here, somewhere.

This severe lack of Judge Judy on the television was kind of killing him. “Are we going to have conflict, TV?” he asked out loud, curling his hand into a fist around the arm of his chair. “Are we going to have conflict? Is there going to be conflict between you and me, TV? Is that what’s going to happen here? Because people with whom I have conflict don’t tend to end up on my Happy List. And you know what not being on my happy list means, right?” He said it anyway, on the offchance that the sadistic entity behind the television that was most certainly depriving him of his assured Judge Judy marathon was not aware of said implication. “It means Big Fat F. Did you hear me? Big Fat F, TV. BIG FAT F.”

Ahahahahahaaaaaa. Is our kind, honorable gentleman in distress? My dear friend, if you’d simply allow the barest smidgeon of control, I could certainly show that heathen broadcasting station-

Criminal Minds tonight, voice. Criminal Minds. Eighty-seven Central. CBS.

People who hallucinated and heard voices were supposed to get shrinks, right? Counseling? Some day, he was going to hire a shrink and get counseling. He was going to counsel and counsel and counsel until he had counseled the fuck out of that voice. And then he was going to laugh, and laugh, and laugh…

“Isomorphic to the vector space…” He pressed the end of his pen to his lips, biting it absently. “Unless the gradient…mmm…” With that in mind, he began hurriedly scrawling calculations.

Was one of these little shitheads actually still here? Here, in Finn Thomas’ classroom? Well, wasn’t that an uncommon occurrence? Finn chuckled to himself, standing up from his chair and brushing the dust from his jacket in a businesslike manner. That Liam kid smoking, probably. Finn really had been meaning to let Mr. Disembodied al Qaeda Voice take a whack at him. And with no god damn Judge Judy on the television today, he might just have to-

His eyes fell on the kid.

“Gideon Glass.” Goodness gracious. Gideon Gideon Gideon Gideon. He was here. Doing his homework. After class was over. He was a college student, preordained to be wasting himself on booze, LSD, and the vomit of Vietnamese prostitutes. And he was here. Doing the homework that Finn had assigned. Doing the homework. That Finn. Had assigned.

Finn took a single glance at the kid’s face and almost keeled over with laughter. God, he looked like he was running a marathon. Or giving birth. He was swallowing those math problems like heavy drugs. Jesus fucking damn Christ, nobody could make Finn laugh like Gideon Glass. Honestly. Just something about him.

“Gideon, Gid-can I call you ‘Gid’?- are you enjoying this assignment?” Finn plowed through whatever the kid’s answer was: he couldn’t have cared less. “Are you enjoying it? Isn’t it a lovely assignment? I think it’s quite a lovely assignment.”

“Oh!” He remembered something. “By the by, this was your name I started to write on my Happy List. In case you couldn’t tell. Hey, do you know what channel the Judge Judy marathon is on today? No reason. I mean, just wondering. Are you still enjoying the assignment? Is it still lovely? Is this homework assignment on your Happy List, Gid?”

God. This kid. He could talk all day to this kid.

[GIDEON GLASS]

Gideon had been doing homework in peace for several minutes, quietly scrawling down answers and calculations and all sorts of deliciously fun mathematical processes. He would occasionally rifle back through his notes when he seemed confused, sometimes clicking his pen so the ballpoint tin popped out, in, out in. The click was soothing to his mind. It helped him think.

What didn’t help him think was Dr. Thomas yelling at his TV.

“Are we going to have conflict, TV? Are we going to have conflict? Is there going to be conflict between you and me, TV? Is that what’s going to happen here? Because people with whom I have conflict don’t tend to end up on my Happy List. And you know what not being on my happy list means, right? It means Big Fat F. Did you hear me? Big Fat F, TV. BIG FAT F.”

Gideon mused over how one could give an F to a TV, but he did not speak up. He’d much preferred it when Dr. Thomas was humming one of his favorite Polonaises by Chopin. If he was going to be this loud, maybe Gideon should just forget everything and go to the library. Maybe he could sleep there. Ha.

All he wanted was a little quiet. Still, Dr. Thomas was nothing if not…entertaining.

He let himself become absorbed in his work and put Dr. Thomas’s exclamations at his television set out of his mind. He had work to do.

“Gideon Glass.”

It seemed like absolutely no time at all before Dr. Thomas spoke his name, and Gideon froze in his scrawling. Very slowly, he set down his pen and looked up at the substitute professor. He raised his eyebrows in polite, but silent, questioning.

“Gideon, Gid-can I call you ‘Gid’?- are you enjoying this assignment?”

“Well, I—” Gideon began, but Dr. Thomas didn’t seem to care for his answer. He went right on talking.

‘Gid’? Who the hell called him ‘Gid’? He wasn’t pleased with that nickname, but he didn’t have the courage to speak up about it.

“Are you enjoying it? Isn’t it a lovely assignment? I think it’s quite a lovely assignment.”

Gideon paused a moment before responding, slightly perplexed at his tone and language. Was he actually making fun of Gideon for doing the homework assignment that he himself had assigned? What confounding behavior indeed. “Well, sir, I think every assignment furthers our knowledge of the material and is therefore valuable. Considering we have a test soon, I thought it was in my best interest to do the homework.” The answer was careful. Was that what he wanted to hear, or was he just about to laugh at him more? Gideon’s pride was a little damaged. (Not that he had much to begin with.)

“Oh!” He remembered something. “By the by, this was your name I started to write on my Happy List. In case you couldn’t tell. Hey, do you know what channel the Judge Judy marathon is on today? No reason. I mean, just wondering. Are you still enjoying the assignment? Is it still lovely? Is this homework assignment on your Happy List, Gid?”

“Considering you said my name, sir, I should think that it was my name you were writing,” Gideon replied. There was the usual slightly sardonic edge to his voice, but it was otherwise civil and serious, as Gideon himself usually was. “I do not know which channel the Judge Judy marathon is on, unfortunately, my apologies. And in whatever sense I can be enjoying an assignment full of complex mathematical equations that I will be doing for the rest of my life, yes, I suppose I am still enjoying it, though you haven’t given me time to reconsider my answer.”

[DR. FINN THOMAS]

Finn watched the kid think, resisting the urge to giggle. Seriously, the kid was thinking so intensely that Finn would not have been surprised if he collapsed from pure exhaustion. Which would not have been cool at all, because Finn would have had to pick him up and take him to the damn nurses office, and that would make him miss this Judge Judy marathon, which was, by the way, totally on. God damnit, Judge Judy was so totally on right now. If that commercial had lied about there being a fucking Judge Judy marathon, Finn was going to…going to…

You know what he was going to do? He was going to stand right up there in front of a video camera, and dress up as every single character in the entire Judge Judy show, and then he was going to do all the voices, and he was going to reenact the shit out of every Judge Judy episode he could think of, and then he was going to send the tape in to CBS and write “BIG FAT F” on that tape. Because that was exactly the grade that Finn would give to a news network that said they were going to have a Judge Judy network, and then didn’t. Big fat F. BIG FAT F FOR CBS.

“Well, sir, I think every assignment furthers our knowledge of the material and is therefore valuable. Considering we have a test soon, I thought it was in my best interest to do the homework.”

Finn chuckled to himself, still shaking his head. This kid was so great. If this kid had his own show, Finn would totally watch that show. Finn would sit down at his TV every day and watch this kid work his ass off at math problems and make his big Inagural Speech remarks, speaking like math was the singular most important thing in the world. Finn would watch that show while grading his papers, and that show would definitely be on his happy list, because any show with Gideon Glass on it would definitely not talk incessantly about a marathon for like, four days, and then not show the marathon. No. That would not happen. Finn definitely needed to email Fox about this or something.

“That’s, that’s, that’s, uh, a good philosophy, Gid. Good, good philosophy.” Finn could barely construct a coherent sentence, he was laughing so hard. “Keep…keep doing my assignments. That’s good. That’ll keep you on my happy list and not give you a Big Fat F.”


“Considering you said my name, sir, I should think that it was my name you were writing,” Gideon replied. There was the usual slightly sardonic edge to his voice, but it was otherwise civil and serious, as Gideon himself usually was. “I do not know which channel the Judge Judy marathon is on, unfortunately, my apologies. And in whatever sense I can be enjoying an assignment full of complex mathematical equations that I will be doing for the rest of my life, yes, I suppose I am still enjoying it, though you haven’t given me time to reconsider my answer.”

So this kid was sarcastic too. Goodness fucking gracious, Finn couldn’t even. Sarcastic teenagers who did the math homework that Finn assigned and freely admitted that they would be completing such similar math problems for the rest of their lives. Finn felt that if he so desired, he could sniff hard and get high off this kid. Gideon Glass was going to be on his happy list for the rest of all eternity. No way was he ever erasing that chalkboard again. “Well, glad you’re enjoying,” he managed through his giggles. “Don’t let me distract you from this lovely assignment.”

Finn felt like singing, but he managed to subdue his giddiness to a hum. “An explicit formula can be given to the derivative of a k-foooooorrrmmmmmm,” he sang quietly to himself, to the tune of Debussy’s “Valse Romantique,” which he’d been playing a lot recently, because he really never heard that song at Debussy concerts or anything, and it was kind of killing him. “When paired wiiiiith Kplusonearbitrarysmooth vector fieeeeeeeeeeelds…” Finn strolled around his classroom, all gripes about Judge Judy entirely out the window. When he ran out of words about exterior derivatives, he moved on to the periodic table of elements. “Hydrogen, helium, liiiiiiithium, beeeeriiiiiiilyuuuuuum, boroncarbonnitrogenoxygenflourineneon sooooooooodiuuuuuuuum…”

[GIDEON GLASS]

Gideon did not enjoy being mocked. It had happened to him more than enough in his grade school days, when he had endured the taunts of the older, bigger boys about everything from his glasses to his body to his ruthless attention to his schoolwork. He was almost reminded of that now, and he had to try very hard not to glare as Dr. Thomas suppressed his laughter. What on earth was he laughing at?! Was the man so cynical that he really didn't expect any students to be attentive and scholarly anymore? That was...well, that was sad.

But Dr. Thomas was a teacher. Even if Gideon wasn't sure he liked the way he was being treated, the least he could do is be civil. After all, he did not want to be on this man's bad side, that was absolutely certain. He was fairly certain that if he kept doing what he was doing, he wouldn't get in any trouble. But he was being laughed at...

“That’s, that’s, that’s, uh, a good philosophy, Gid. Good, good philosophy.” Finn could barely construct a coherent sentence, he was laughing so hard. “Keep…keep doing my assignments. That’s good. That’ll keep you on my happy list and not give you a Big Fat F.”

"Thank you," he replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. The man was laughing so hard at him that he could barely speak. How demeaning. "And I will keep doing your assignments, of course." He was aiming to graduate with some serious honors, not that Finn had to know that.

He raised his eyebrows, wanting to ask just why Dr. Thomas was laughing at him, but he repressed the question in the name of courtesy. A cool cynicism was creeping into his demeanor more and more, wittier and snappier than the perfect student who had been before Dr. Thomas but a moment before.

“Well, glad you’re enjoying,” he managed through his giggles. “Don’t let me distract you from this lovely assignment.”

Gideon's expression didn't change. It remained flat, serious, and slightly incredulous in an almost sarcastic way. "Very well." I'm glad you're enjoying, as you apparently are, he thought to himself, turning back to his assignment.

Best just get it done and get out of here.

“An explicit formula can be given to the derivative of a k-foooooorrrmmmmmm," Gideon heard Dr. Thomas singing, and he paused. Was that...? “When paired wiiiiith Kplusonearbitrarysmooth vector fieeeeeeeeeeelds…” It was. That was Debussy. That was "Valse Romantique." He loved that piece. Debussy was his absolute favorite composer.

Dr. Thomas...knew that piece...?

“Hydrogen, helium, liiiiiiithium, beeeeriiiiiiilyuuuuuum, boroncarbonnitrogenoxygenflourineneon sooooooooodiuuuuuuuum…”

Oh, God.

He was singing the table of the elements, to...Debussy...

Gideon stiffened a bit in his seat.

That was kind of...rather...very attractive.

That he knew both the table of elements and could sing it to Debussy.

It suddenly occurred to him that Dr. Thomas wasn't very bad-looking, either.

Gideon Arthur Glass, this is NOT the time to be acquiring boycrushes on your math teachers! Get a hold of yourself!

Clearing his throat softly and fighting down the blush creeping to his cheeks, he said aloud, "Ah, Dr. Thomas...you wouldn't happen to be singing Mendeleev's Periodic Table of the Elements in order to the tune of Debussy's 'Valse Romantique'...would you?"

It sounded somehow sexier out loud.

[DR. FINN THOMAS]

Finn pulled out a stack of papers to grade, still engrossed in his humming. He skipped back to the dal segno at this part, right? No, no, he still had that entire thing where it modulated into D Minor. Damnit, had he missed a part? Shit. He was kind of killing himself here. Shit shit, first the Judge Judy marathon not being on, even though it was totally fucking on, and then Burger King being down by a good 26 points, and now he couldn’t even remember when the key change and the dal segno came into Valse Romantique. His favorite composer, damnit!

He hoped that CBS’ stock went way down. Like, way down. So down that it would be like a fucking Great Depression just for CBS. So down CBS would come crying to the New York Stock Exchange for mercy, and the New York Stock Exchange would give them a Big Fat F for not playing the Judge Judy marathon that they’d fucking said would be up there.

"Thank you," he replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. The man was laughing so hard at him that he could barely speak. How demeaning. "And I will keep doing your assignments, of course."

“I’m sorry.” Finn needed to stop laughing at this kid. He really did. But come on…he was too hilarious. You had to admit. You couldn’t not see this kid and laugh your ass off. You just couldn’t. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” He managed to stifle his giggles, wrestling his features into a hideous expression of malady and woe. “Better?”

"Very well."

“Yes, yes, it is very well.” This expression was proving harder than anticipated originally. Finn kept having to realign his contorted mouth and nose, which was distracting him from whatever the fuck he was supposed to be saying to this kid right now. “Isn’t it very well, Gideon Glass? Don’t you think so? I’m glad you think so. I think it’s very well too.” He moved to his eyes, concentrating on making tiny adjustments to his eyelids so as to allow them to remain in the same anguished positions as he preferred.

"Ah, Dr. Thomas...you wouldn't happen to be singing Mendeleev's Periodic Table of the Elements in order to the tune of Debussy's 'Valse Romantique'...would you?"

Finn dropped the morose expression in a heartbeat. “Debussy’s Valse Romantique. Why…yes. Yes, I…do happen to be singing Mendeleev’s Periodic Table of the Elements…in order…to the tune of Debussy’s Valse Romantique.”

He narrowed his eyes. What was this kid implying? Was he implying that Finn’s rendition of the periodic table was bad? Of course, that would still imply that Gideon Glass could…recognize the musical composition. And that was a reflection of musical taste that no student had ever displayed to Finn before.

“And we’re almost at rhodium…my favorite element…” Finn was still unsure how to react to all of this. No student could possibly know the Periodic Table of Elements and Debussy’s Valse Romantique. That was…too much to hope for.

[GIDEON GLASS]

Gideon was uncertain if he should find this entire scenario degrading or amusing or...what. It was just...far too strange. Never before had he met a teacher who laughed at his students for doing their work.

Then again...he had never met a teacher who sang the Periodic Table in order to a piece by Debussy...

The young man was so perplexed that he made an error in his math. He failed to realize it until it was too late, and it occurred to him that the entire problem had been boggled. A foolish mistake. Swearing softly under his breath, he erased half of his calculations and restarted, sighing in irritation. He was becoming distracted. And for a reason that hardly seemed valid.

“I’m sorry.” Finn needed to stop laughing at this kid. He really did. But come on…he was too hilarious. You had to admit. You couldn’t not see this kid and laugh your ass off. You just couldn’t. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” He managed to stifle his giggles, wrestling his features into a hideous expression of malady and woe. “Better?”

Gideon just raised his eyebrows.

He remained like that for a moment, skeptical and acerbic, until he felt an unfamiliar tug at the corner of his mouth. Against his will, he was smiling. He coughed to cover it up and bit his bottom lip, as if trying to keep it from such an act of treachery.

“Yes, yes, it is very well.” This expression was proving harder than anticipated originally. Finn kept having to realign his contorted mouth and nose, which was distracting him from whatever the fuck he was supposed to be saying to this kid right now. “Isn’t it very well, Gideon Glass? Don’t you think so? I’m glad you think so. I think it’s very well too.” He moved to his eyes, concentrating on making tiny adjustments to his eyelids so as to allow them to remain in the same anguished positions as he preferred.

Gideon shook his head. He simply could not believe this man. For a teacher, he was absurd, absolutely absurd, and that was something that should have annoyed Gideon.

But in this instance, it didn’t. Well, it did, but not as much as it most certainly should have. There was a very small part of Gideon that found Dr. Thomas...amusing. Almost endearing. Yes. Quite endearing.

What on EARTH are you thinking?!

He mentally slapped himself across the face. Foolish. Foolish. Of all the absurd crushes in all the world that he could possibly have.

At his recognition of the piece Dr. Thomas was singing, Gideon watched as the feigned expression fell from the teacher’s face in an instant. “Debussy’s Valse Romantique. Why…yes. Yes, I…do happen to be singing Mendeleev’s Periodic Table of the Elements…in order…to the tune of Debussy’s Valse Romantique.”

That was definitely kind of sexy.

“Oh,” he said after a moment, blinking a few times. Then something almost playful seemed to rise in him, and though he hardly smiled at all, his eyes seemed to glitter. “Well, sir, it is a truly wonderful rendition, but I believe there was a part that you skipped.” Switching his eyes back to his paper, he sang the next few elements – “Magnesium, aluminum, silicon, phosphorous, sulfur” – to the tune of the section that Dr. Thomas had skipped.

“And we’re almost at rhodium…my favorite element…”

“Rhodium is a very good choice, sir, though I must say that my favorite element is hydrogen. Its capabilities are fascinating.” He said this while continuing to work, humming Valse Romantique under his breath still.

He was flirting. Sort of. Gideon did not really flirt; this was as close as he came.

[DR. FINN THOMAS]

Finn watched as Gideon Glass scribbled something out on his paper, the eraser scraping cleanly against the lines. Dear dear, Gideon Glass, Gideon Glass had made a mistake, hadn’t he? Gideon Glass didn’t make mistakes. No, Gideon Glass did not. Gideon Glass and his paper were having conflict, weren’t they? God, Finn just loved that name. Gideon Glass. Gideon Glass. The four syllables rolled through his head like something that was…sexy.

Very sexy. Inordinately, superfluously sexy. Like, his happy list times sixteen million to the twenty six hundredth power sexy.

And the way he moved his pencil against the paper, scribbling the numbers…that was sexy. That was incredibly sexy. Almost sexy enough to make him want to…

He isss twenty two yearssss olllld, you belligerent pedophiiiiiiii-“

Criminal minds, voice. Tonight. Are we going to have conflict, voice? Are we going to have conflict? You are really not going to be on my happy list tonight, voice, and people who aren’t on my happy list don’t generally get to watch Criminal Minds.

Still…no. He really shouldn’t…this was a fucking student…a child…

But such a smart child…and such a…sexy child.

“Well, sir, it is a truly wonderful rendition, but I believe there was a part that you skipped.” Switching his eyes back to his paper, he sang the next few elements – “Magnesium, aluminum, silicon, phosphorous, sulfur” –

”Chloooorine, aaaaargon,” Finn intoned quietly, breaking into two part harmony. And the way that Gideon Glass sang was so utterly…well. Beautiful. But more importantly, more fucking deserving of his happy list than any other student he’d ever taught. ”Oh, please.” he added, in an afterthought. ”Call me Finn.” There was no fucking way that this being sculpted of heaven was referring to him as “sir”.


“Rhodium is a very good choice, sir, though I must say that my favorite element is hydrogen. Its capabilities are fascinating.”

”Indeed. I, uh, totally agree.” Finn totally was not a chemistry teacher at all. But still, he’d passed eleventh grade, way back when. He could figure this shit out, need be. ”I’ve always been fond of the fact that Rhodium forms no volatile oxygen compounds. It leads to a lot of happiness on my part. Rhodium is on my happy list.” He nodded emphatically. And Rhodium wasn’t the only thing on his happy list at the moment. Not by a long shot.

”So, uh, listen,” he said, trying to figure out how exactly to word this. ”Lovely as this room is, it’s getting a little…uh, hot, wouldn’t you say? What do you say to heading on back to, er, my apartment? I’ve got some, uh, really lovely math books you can…read. Sure you’ll enjoy them.”

”Weellllll playyeedddddd,” hissed the voice.

[GIDEON GLASS]

Gideon Glass certainly did not make mistakes, and every time he did, it really irritated him. Especially when it came from some feeling so...trivial as...what, sexual attraction to a professor? What sort of academic blasphemy was that?! Surely, that had to somehow be illegal under some ordinance or...something of that sort...

Oh, goodness, he couldn’t even think straight. He’d completely lost his place in the problem he was doing.

“Mother of God,” he mumbled to himself, and he felt something in the back of his mind stir and scold him for his lack of attention. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

He looked up briefly at Finn again, then back down to his paper. There was something sort of...not quite ruggedly handsome, but challengingly so. Like...he just didn’t care what the world thought of him. Somehow, Gideon found that rather attractive – probably because he wished that he could be like that. Of course, he never could. He would always care too much about things that didn’t really matter, even if his higher order brain told him such things were absurd to dwell on.

Still...singing the periodic table...to Debussy.

Intelligence was not something Gideon – or his hormones – took lightly.

He smiled as the teacher sung the next few elements in harmony, and kept humming the piece as Finn spoke.

”Oh, please. Call me Finn.”

“Is that not a bit inappropriate?” he – almost – teased. No. Wait. He was definitely teasing. Since when did he tease?

Sweet Mendeleev. He was flirting with his math teacher.

“But I suppose I can accommodate...Finn,” he said, a smile ghosting its way across his lips.

”Indeed. I, uh, totally agree. I’ve always been fond of the fact that Rhodium forms no volatile oxygen compounds. It leads to a lot of happiness on my part. Rhodium is on my happy list.”

“Volatile oxygen compounds are certainly interesting,” Gideon reflected with a slight nod. “I always found hydrogen to be fascinating...so many things it is capable of. Nitrogen, as well. But...well...I find those man-made elements almost more interesting. To think that we have created our own elements...even if they exist only for a fraction of a second. It is remarkable.” He shook his head slightly and looked up at Finn.

”So, uh, listen,” he said, trying to figure out how exactly to word this. ”Lovely as this room is, it’s getting a little…uh, hot, wouldn’t you say? What do you say to heading on back to, er, my apartment? I’ve got some, uh, really lovely math books you can…read. Sure you’ll enjoy them.”

It took Gideon a moment to realize what Dr. Thomas is saying, because he didn’t expect it. When he realized the insinuation behind it, he felt himself flushed with heat, his cheeks turning a rather shameful pink.

“W-well,” he stammered, not initially sure how to respond. The man was inviting him over. There were only a few ways that could end, and none of them were incredibly dignified. But...well...

He was rather...lonely...

And Finn was attractive...

And no-one had to know...

Right. No-one had to know.

With a renewed confidence, he looked up at Finn and said, “I would love to...Finn.”