Writer's Block

Framed (Scomiche, Heebie Jeebies vignette)

Okay, the other day someone, and by someone I mean Ehcimocs , posted a truly lovely edit of Scott with long curly hair and glasses. Not-so-coincidentally, this edit looked a lot like a certain AU version of Scott, also by Ehcimocs , which got me thinking, and by thinking I mean writing. And so, with her permission, I've stolen her sandbox for a moment:

Mitch is a few minutes early picking Scott up. He'd hoped to be able to drag him away in time to miss the worst of the rush hour traffic on the way to their dinner reservation, but that was clearly optimistic. Scott's apparently still running office hours, albeit with the door open. Mitch leans against the wall to wait, making sure he's beside the door and out of sight of the occupants. He doesn't want to accidentally rush Scott or his students along.

The reason for the door being open becomes clear when Eliza's voice filters out. Scott not wanting even the illusion of privacy with She Of The Inappropriate Illustrations makes complete sense. Her drawings have mysteriously stopped appearing — thank fuck — ever since Mitch made a point of introducing himself to her. But Scott's probably not yet ready to believe she's actually changed her ways.

Wise of him.

Anyway, Eliza's question has something to do with neurotrophins and hippocampi, and while Mitch has technically heard every word she says in some form or another before, and might even be able to define each one independently, together they form a sentence he can't quite parse and honestly, at the end of a long day of his own, he's not really up to trying.

"Oh, that's interesting," Scott says. "What made you think of that?"

Another high-pitched voice answers the question, and Mitch pays more attention to being pleased there's someone else in there with Scott and Eliza than he does to whatever clarification of the issue the voice is giving.

There's some back and forth, Scott, Eliza, and the mystery person exchanging ideas, some loud enough for Mitch to make out, some not. He stops trying to follow at all until Eliza suddenly asks, "Are your glasses bothering you?". Her voice is sickeningly sweet and oh so concerned in a way that immediately sets Mitch's teeth on edge.

"They seem to be especially dirty today," Scott replies, and Mitch rolls his eyes. He bets Scott's doing that thing where he takes his glasses off in a very Rupert Giles sort of way while he's thinking, and then is forced to clean them with the bottom of his shirt when the spots all over them are made obvious in the change of distance and light.

Teenage Mitch was always a bit confused about how that move made him feel while watching Buffy. Adult Mitch is very much not.

Eliza, meanwhile, has heroically restrained herself from responding to 'especially dirty today' with anything horrifying, but the other voice chirps up with, "Have you ever thought about getting Lasik?"

Oh, shut the fuck up, Mitch thinks.

"Shut the fuck up, Kayla, " Eliza hisses.

Mitch snorts and almost immediately chokes to death trying to suppress the sound of doing so. Trust Eliza to wholeheartedly agree with him on this.

"What?" Scott asks, and Mitch can picture him blinking obliviously as he puts his now-vaguely-cleaner-but-mostly-just-smeared glasses back on. "Why?"

"Nothing, Dr. Hoying," Eliza says, just as sweetly as before. "Oh, wow, Kay. We should get going. We have that thing soon."

"We do?" The other voice, Kayla apparently, asks, but Mitch can tell Eliza's already leading them out, just from the change of pitch as they get closer to the door.

Mitch crosses his arms and accentuates his lean so that when Eliza and her friend round the corner out of Scott's door, they startle themselves by almost running into him.

Sometimes, it's the little things Mitch enjoys the most.

"Uh," There's a moment of panic on Eliza's face before she recovers, pasting on an overly large smile. "Hi, Detective Grassi!"

"Hello, Eliza."

The fact that he remembers her name seems to freeze her smile for a moment. But again, she rallies quickly. "What do you think of the idea of Professor Hoying getting Lasik?"

Mitch raises the eyebrow with the highest success rate at getting suspects to backtrack whatever bullshit they've just spouted. "I'd support anything he chooses to do, given that they're his eyeballs. Body autonomy, right?"

He's pleased to see it works just as well on her. Her smile slips and she nods, wide-eyed and chagrined. "Yeah, uh, yes. Obviously. That's, um. That's what I meant."

Kayla looks from one to the other, clearly aware she's missing a hefty dose of context.

Mitch decides to throw Eliza a bone, so lowers his voice and leans in. "But I'd never in a million years suggest it to him."

Eliza's grin comes back full force. "I knew it!"

Mitch allows her a moment of triumph, waiting a beat before pointedly saying, "Goodbye, Eliza."

Her smile doesn't slip this time. She just waves a little, and bumps her friend's shoulder with her own to get her moving. "Goodbye, Detective! Nice seeing you again!"

Mitch ignores her subsequent giggle and Kayla asking "What was that about?" as they disappear around the corner. Instead, he pushes himself off the wall and heads into Scott's office.

Scott's looking especially professory today, still sitting behind his desk, and also especially confused. He looks up as Mitch comes in, and while he seems relieved to see him instead of yet another student, he bypasses all greeting pleasantries to go straight for,  "You ever wonder if you're missing key information in like half the conversations you're actually in?"

"All the time." He looks Scott up and down, appreciating his tousled hair and slightly askew frames and, as always when he's here, his memories of Scott's desk. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," Scott says, gathering up his papers into some semblance of order before standing up. "You think I should look into getting laser surgery?"

Damn it, Kayla. Time to pretend ignorance. "For your eyes?"

Said eyes roll as Scott grabs his jacket off the back of his chair. "No, for my dick. Yes, of course for my eyes."

"Up to you, babe," Mitch says. "You're the one who has to deal with the glasses. I have to admit I'd miss them though."

"Really?" Scott asks, peering at him through them. "You would?"

How is this even a question? "Of course I would."