One Shots {Chaelisa}

{injuries}

Every day, at 2:00 sharp, Lisa Manoban runs past the classroom door.
The purpose of said run isunknown. All Rosie knows is that it is very, very distracting.

The first time it happened, Roseanne looked up in pure teacher reflex. Running in school hallways is not allowed, and the requisite gentle reprimand was primed and ready on her lips.
But before the words could fly, she saw the offender. Lisa. A bit of sweat on her brow, arms pumping, sneakers steady and rhythmic across the tile.

Distracting.

The following day, 2:00, footsteps coming fast, Roseanne turned in curiosity. Alright, fine, "curiosity." Just to confirm it would be, indeed, Lisa again.

It was.

Suspicions confirmed. No need to look again.

Except she did. Does. Every day. 2:00, and her ears are perked, waiting for the little glance she gets.
It isn't that she never sees Lisa otherwise. There are school assemblies, and the dining room on Thursdays when they share lunch duty. Recess too, on alternate Fridays. And that Christmas party at Principal's house last year, when Lisa winked at her from beneath the mistletoe, leaving Rosie weak at the knees and gabbing on about the history of Christmas lights, or some nonsense.

So yeah, plenty of times to see the dance teacher otherwise.

Except all those times, there are people around to see it. Lisa is there to see it. The blush that rises to Roseanne's cheeks at just the sight, just the proximity of Lisa. Hell, just at the thought of Lisa. Not to mention the way she trips over her words, or her gaze skitters around, or she readjusts her skirt forty times in a row.
But here, in this sliver of time between 2:00:00 and 2:00:01 every day, cocooned in the safety of her classroom, Roseanne gets to blush and swoon unwitnessed.

Well, almost unwitnessed. Students can be frustratingly perceptive...

The classroom clock strikes 2:00 on the dot, and, like clockwork, familiar footsteps come pounding down the hall.
Roseanne trails off, the sentence lost for a moment, chalk poised on the board, as her eyes skip to the door, waiting.
Lisa appears, at full sprint, as always. But unlike always, today, Lisa looks.
Her head turns, just at the moment she passes the doorway, catching Roseanne in the act of watching, blushing, utter distraction.

A sly grin flickers across lisa's face in the split second between spotting Rosie and not spotting the open classroom door.
The impact is audible. The crunch of Lisa's nose as it meets wood, the half cuss that escapes her as she tips backwards from the force of it all. She hits the floor hard and promptly passes out.
Roseanne, frozen in space and time, is shaken loose by the screams of her students. She lurches towards the door, making it one, two, three steps before the pool of blood registers.
Head wounds classically bleed quite profusely, even small ones, even just busted up noses.

See, Rosie isn't great with blood.

Alright, fine, that's an understatement. Roseanne is really, really, really bad with blood.

Her sympathetic nervous system is, helpfully, two steps ahead. By the time she hits peak awareness of the situation, her heart rate is traveling at gallop speed and her palms are slick with sweat.
Her vision has dimmed merrily down to a pinhole, through which she's able to watch as the world floats up around her. No, wait, that's not right. Oh yes, she's falling, crumpling to the floor.
Thirty pairs of small sneakers surround her, the whispers filtering in through the buzzing of her ears.

"Call the office," Roseanne groans, through lips that have gone a wee bit slack.

"But Miss Park, you said never to use the classroom phone," comes the helpful reply from half a dozen voices in dizzying synchrony.

"Just –"

That's all she manages, before the room falls dark.

Roseanne wakes up with a terrible back ache, having lost her pillow throughout the night, it seems. She really needs a new mattress, they're just so damn expensive and she's been saving up for a trip abroad. A back ache is worth a plane ticket, surely.
She groans and rolls over, clearing the edge of the bed in what begins to feel like a cartoon stunt fall.
Limbs flailing, her eyes snap open.
Her fingers, scrambling desperately for purchase on the sheets, find something unexpected. A hand. A hand which grips hers firmly and pulls her back onto the bed.
No, wait, not a bed. A cot, tile floor.

Shit.

The Nurse's Office looms into focus suddenly.

Rosie sits up quickly and the world spins, sending her flopping back down again.

There's a low chuckle from beside her. "Easy there, Chipmunk."

Well, shit. Just, shit.

Roseanne turns her head slowly.

Lisa, just there, on a second cot beside her. Cross-legged, leaned back against against the wall, pressing a wad of gauze to her nose, one hand still holding Rosie's firmly. Black eye blooming nicely.
Gorgeous, as always, Roseanne thinks, absentmindedly.
Lalisa grins broadly from behind the wad of material, her teeth stained a faint pink.
Rosie groans, but she can't quite hold back the smile that slips onto her lips. She bites it back and tries to hide it, but Lisa sees it well enough, eyes twinkling and grin growing impossibly wider.

"We're quite the pair," Lisa says, which draws a laugh from the older woman and drags a heavy blush to her cheeks.
She sits up slowly, and the world stays put more or less.
Lisa tugs her over to sit beside her and hands her a juice box. "Nurse said to make you drink that if you came to before she got back."

Roseanne leans back against the wall and closes her eyes. "This is very embarrassing. The kids must be in shock."
Lisa clears her throat a bit, tamping down another chuckle.

"Oh, the kids seem alright. Actually, one of your students popped by while you were out. Little Ella? Has a bad habit of chatting my ear off in the during dance class every afternoon? She just stopped in to tell me that you like your coffee with milk and sugar, and you like roses best, and daisies second. Just in case you needed to know, Miss Manoban. That's what she said."

Roseanne covers her face with one hand, the flush of her cheeks traveling rapidly down her throat and settling across her chest. "Oh, god."

Gleeful now, Lisa plunges ahead. "And since you and I are clearly a hazard to health and safety in our current state, I was thinking –"

"Do you want to go out for a cup of coffee?" Roseanne blurts, whipping around towards Lisa, a bit too fast given her current unsteady state of being.

Lisa nods, all dimples now. "Yes. My thought exactly."

For the first time since regaining consciousness, Roseanne risks meeting Lisa's eyes directly. Good eyes, gorgeous eyes. Pupils just a bit dilated, which could be the head injury or could be –

Rosie swoons a bit, which is cute, except for the whole narrow cot and recent loss of consciousness thing.
Suddenly Jisoo appears in the doorway, holding onto little Ella's hand,  just in time to help Lisa catch Rosie before she meets the floor, again.

"Jesus, Rosie," Jisoo grumbles, handing the blonde her daughter's  juice box. "Just ask her out already. This is ridiculous."
Lisa laughs and laughs, drawing Roseanne into it right alongside her, until Lisa's nose starts bleeding again and the nurse makes them both leave.