When In Need Of Inspiration [[ o p e n ]]

The door was only slightly ajar- windows closed, curtains drawn, and candles lit, spreading the warm infatuating scent of Pottery Barn's vanilla bean mingled with wildflowers throughout the room. Robert Frost- or rather- a collection of his poems- lay open to her left- Edgar Allan Poe to her right.

Erika took a deep breath and bit the end of her pen. Chewing pens was a disgusting habit, but an addiction all the same- as was the weekly therapy she now indulged in. Time to write. Funny though, she mused, twisting the plastic between her teeth- back and forth- most of the time she wasn't hit with ideas until way after her think session. Regardless, this had become tradition. Erika couldn't see herself doing without it.

Now, for poor old Poe...

MacKenzie had returned to his office, which branched off of the theater tech room, to find a note laid on his desk. When he picked it up and read the neatly written words, he smiled to himself. A window. He remembered that there were several large windows in Erika's classroom. Quite lovely during the summer, but absolutely horrible during summer. Which was why he'd made sure his personal office was in such a place that it was impossible for any windows to be placed in the walls. Breezes may have been nice, but he despised letting cold seep into his work space.

Setting down a set of manuscripts, he pocketed the note and left the room. He had very little to do anyway, so he might as well go and make his stop now. Sometimes he wondered why Erika never tired of his too-helpful hands. Perhaps he should stop offering his services to all the new teachers and pretend to be busier. Yet, that would be absolutely no fun at all. Besides, he wouldn't make any friends that way. And that was the whole point of going to school in the first place, wasn't it? Well, perhaps not, but MacKenzie liked to view his job as fun and not a nuisance, otherwise he would despise everything and everyone and his life would spiral away into a dark abyss of horror.

He paused to knock on the door, which caused it to open, revealing Erika at her desk. "I see Mr. Poe has beat me to your room." He smiled, noting the scent that filled the classroom. "Good evening, Erika. You have good sense in candles, as always." MacKenzie stepped into the room, pushing the door to the slightly ajar point it had been resting at before he'd disturbed the peace. "Which window is giving you trouble, my good lady? I'll soon see to it that it learns a good lesson about manners." Mirth filled his voice, even as his eyes studied each of the windows in turn.

Erika was just about to dive right into the world of the woeful Poe- she was only a few words in- when the door opened briskly. MacKenzie. Her face lit up, her smile overtaking her expression of previous frustration and hopefulness. She laughed lightly.

"Good evening, MacKenzie. Yes, indeed, he has- he comes along often these days, especially considering his affinity for the cold and my room being at the moment, so much of that." Her smile grew as much as it was able- she loved a good play on words, and this one was especially delightful to her. Perhaps as a result of the company, perhaps not... but yes... honestly, that was it.

She stood, pulling at her skirt to put it back into it's proper place before rounding the desk to guide MacKenzie to the window, the last one at the very back corner of the room. Standing beside it, she demonstrated her own incapability by pressing down on the bottom bar, stuck a few good inches from the window's base. "Uh- as you can see- hm- this window- ah- abhors me immensely. It's more than just a little bothersome- and as much as I hate to admit defeat, this thing has done me in! I'm completely at a loss- and I have no more candles to bring to heat the room up! I hated to bother you... thank you so much for coming..." She looked to him, her appreciation glittering in her eyes. "Oh- I had an idea for you, too, actually. I was thinking-" she moved quickly from the window back to her desk, where she rummaged through some neatly stacked papers and pulled out a manilla folder. "I thought that it might be nice, considering the lack of interest in literature over the past few years among such talented students- if we could hold some sort of theater & lit. seminar... showcase the connection- read off some bits and pieces of novels, and poetry, contrast them with theater- really show these kids what they're missing out on!" She turned, slightly nervous, to him. "What do you think?"

MacKenzie chuckled. "Yes, Poe does seem to enjoy the cold far more than the average person. I think he should consider seeing a psychologist about that." The problem,the reason he'd come, was evident in the frigid air around them. It made him wish he'd brought a jacket. Then again, poor Erika had to suffer all day, with or without a jacket. So, who was he to complain about a little cold? Right, anyways, he was here to fix her problem so that she wouldn't freeze to death.

He followed her across the classroom and past all of the windows. With the exception of one. So it was the very last one. Tricky; he almost felt bad for any students who chose to skulk in the back row of the classroom. MacKenzie couldn't help the smile that formed when she struggled with the window. Erika could be so cute unintentionally; she'd called him to fix the window, so she shouldn't have to worry about showing him her troubles. "Don't worry about bothering me, I don't think of it as such. A friend in need is a friend indeed, as the saying goes. I'll whip that window into shape for you." He paused, surprise flickering across his face at the suggestion of an idea.

While she returned to her desk, MacKenzie took up position at the window and pressed down on the bottom bar. It was stuck and quite unwilling to budge. Unsurprised, he pushed a little harder, when it didn't give, he added more force. Finally, it gave just enough for him to jerk it closed. Once he'd drawn the curtains again, he turned to her to answer her question. [b]"Not a bad idea, Erika. I think it would be fantastic! Theater is a lot more closely connected to literature than the children of this school seem to realize."

His smile was warm and filled with encouragement. "To add to this, we could ask Deidre to find some pieces that fit in both categories."

Laughing lightly, Erika held her written proposal in her hands, leaning on the side of her desk and watching MacKenzie struggle with the troublesome window in the back. She inched up onto the desk, crossing her legs and leaning forward with her head cocked to the side, still watching him. She didn't even consider whether or not she seemed a little odd doing so- but if she had she certainly would have hoped she hadn't, although she very well may have.

She heaved a breath of utter relief as she heard the solid smack of the wood window against its frame. She smiled at MacKenzie- her hero of the day- no, not just for the day, really.

"Thank you! For the window and the support. I don't think these young people realize how even Shakespeare was more than just dramas! His sonnets were just as compelling as his plays, just as well thought out, just as beautiful, as passionate... I did have on piece in mind actually..." Oh dear, it was evident in Erika's eyes at once. A reciting was coming on, and it couldn't be stopped. She could feel it swelling in her chest, her love of Shakespeare- she was a woman obsessed for sure- Shakespeare was her air, her water, her land, her reason for being as far as she was concerned.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy..."

As she spoke she stood up, setting her papers down on her desk and really enveloping herself in the words. She smiled, reciting each word crystal clear, looking out the window at first and then to MacKenzie towards the end... well, not really the end, but rather, the moment at which she realized she was rambling to him something he surely knew already... how silly of her...

MacKenzie dusted off his hands and leaned back against the sill of the window he'd just closed. He'd have to mention the problem to maintenance, maybe they could do something so that Erika could open and close the window at will. That way she wouldn't need to struggle in the heat of the summer. Although he would surely miss her need for him to come and help her. It made him feel so very-manly was not the right word-needed. To be precise, he was really glad someone needed him around to help. He would usually have brushed off her thanks, but today he felt it needed an answer. He bowed, very theatrically, a mischievous grin curving his lips.

"It truly was not a problem, good Lady of Literature." He settled back against the sill. Shakespeare. Ah, what a subject. "Most teens do not pay attention to the talented man's sonnets. Which cuts them off from fully experiencing everything that was, and still is, Shakespeare." He settled more comfortably, already prepared for a recitation, in fact he'd hoped for one. He himself truly loved Shakespeare's work, but it felt like perhaps Erika might have topped him in that aspect. Not that he was complaining, he liked to see appreciation of good writers.

Allowing himself to observe her as she recited, MacKenzie noted the passion in her eyes. She really liked the piece she was speaking. Due to that feeling, it was beautiful recitation and he clapped when she trailed off. Incomplete, perhaps, probably due to embarrassment? That was his guess. Crossing the room, he laid a hand on her shoulder. "If you recite like that to the students, I'm sure they'll feel just as moved as I was."

Erika was more than just a little enthused at the idea of MacKenzie being moved by her speech. She'd said those words, recited those lines to herself on so many an occasion they were infused into her mind. And still... there was something so different about them now that they were spoken in another's presence... a specific other, honestly.

"Well I- I'd love to..." She blushed, brushing back some hair behind her ear and staring at the floor- she felt very shy all of a sudden. Like she was in high school again- well, as a student, rather than a teacher. Then she looked up, met MacKenzie's gaze- his hand had met her shoulder and she was feeling this odd sensation- as though she might melt right there. The room wasn't hardly so cold. She wasn't paying any attention to anything anymore, and as she stood one with one of her feet nervously swaying on it's heel, she felt it slip and her height dropped about an inch- but she didn't fall.

"Well... thank you- again..." she said, more softly than she'd really intended- it just came so naturally.

MacKenzie was proud to find that another teacher was unafraid to get up and recite in front of the students. Not all of the teachers were so willing to do that. Most felt safest at the front of their classes, but that was about it. MacKenzie, however, lived every school day by reaching out to all sorts of students, so whenever he found a kindred spirit, he was very happy. And Erika was just that.

When she blushed, he smiled to himself, yet an idea came to him. "Homecoming is coming up, right?" He was musing aloud, half to her since she was there. His eyes studied the ceiling for a long moment and then..."Why don't we throw the students for a loop and go together? You needn't say yes if it makes you uncomfortable." That mischief was back in his stance. There was a glint of in his eyes that promised mystery and fun.

"There is no need to thank me, Erika. I speak merely the truth." Very gently, he turned her face back up to face his with two fingers.

It seemed as though Erika were back in high school herself, facing Jayke Ryder, the cutest most sweetest most drama-obsessed guy her side of the world. She remembered trying to talk to him once, after school at rehearsal, and all she could manage to blubber out was 'you lines your speak very good.' like she was drunk or something. Ugh! As she recalled, he laughed and walked away awkwardly, and that had been the end of that crush. It died of embarrassment.

Homecoming? A loop? Together? "Huh," Erika laughed, delighted at the idea, and considering it for hardly a moment before conceding, "Sure, I suppose..." her eyes drifted downward, head tilted down. She bit her bottom lip, trying to bite back the possible repetition of the Jayke Ryder incident. Then MacKenzie's fingers touched her chin.

She looked at him, and felt her body melt a little. "You speak the truth very well..." Her face brightened to a pink. Oh no! Had she mixed words?! She didn't know! All she knew was she had spoken! Ooooh, darn her and her teenager-like tendencies!! "I mean- well- actually I don't know what I mean... my ability to speak clearly and well and just speak at all has left me just as my ability to gauge how much I'm speaking... apparently..." Ugh, if only something might shut her up. She started to step back, her red face too bright to take. She really wished she might disappear- or rewind time and return to professionalism. She felt like such a child.