Bored Bored Bored

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Iron Man Crossover (Self-Made Hero)
Summary: Xander didn't just tick off everyone involved with the school system in this universe.
Word Count: 550
Rating: Gen

         “…and that’s why gravity is something we shouldn’t ignore, as this law of reality can be fatal…”  Mr. Abney pauses, eyes narrowing as he sees that Xander Harris, of all people, has raised his hand.  Last year, he would have fallen asleep again and needed a refresher on the material.  This year, he’s awake often enough that his increase in grades isn’t a complete shock, but unfortunately him speaking up in class often means that he’s in a combative mood, which is usually less than fun to deal with.  If he hadn’t been such the slacker last year, maybe with the help of Miss Rosenberg and a few other bright students, they might have been able to get that robotics grant he’d wanted.  Then again, acting out isn’t all too uncommon in a place like Sunnydale with an obituary in the school newspaper, he reasons.  With Mr. McNally missing, the least he can do is be just the slightest bit more patient with the young man, even if Principal Snyder won’t be.  “Yes?”
         “Actually, we shouldn’t be—fatally, at least—worried about someone fumbling their wallet on top of the Empire State Building.  The terminal speed—which sounds scary but is actually just the final speed the object will reach based on the acceleration due to gravity—is 50 miles per hour.  Potentially deadly if you’re in a car accident, probably will just cause massive bleeding from a penny.  Google it if you don’t believe me.”  Mr. Harris smiles innocently at the blink he receives in return.  And the confused glare from his friend, Miss Rosenberg, who is certainly not enjoying the attention he receives on occasion.  (That being said—what’s that word—googel?)
         “Ignoring your last remark,” and, interestingly enough, Mr. Harris actually mouths ‘oh’ at that one, like he’d said something he thought was common knowledge and somehow miscalculated, “…still a cause for concern, Mr. Harris,” he manages eventually, aware that Harris had to have done all that math in his head.  How he’s related to that old drunk is quite the mystery.  Being a bastard child would make more sense—and, for once, actually be a little bit of a blessing to the kid.
         Mr. Harris inclines his head, tapping his fingers in a manic rhythm against his chest.  “That I’ll grant you.  It could take your eye out.”
         Acting out to get attention.  Coupled with showing off, and not in a socially acceptable way.  Probably, he should not report this to the Principal, but the librarian, instead.  Perhaps a little unorthodox, but he wasn’t always the most conventional of people, and he’d noticed that the librarian had taken a special interest in Mr. Harris and vice versa.  “Now there’s math I don’t actually want to do,” he admits, and watches closely.
         It’s easy to miss, but the edges of Mr. Harris’s eyes crinkle, turning the smile from some cocky show to something much more human.  Moments like this, guiding the youth to a better future, that’s what he went into this profession for in the first place.  “Euurgh, maybe you’re right,” Mr. Harris acknowledges.
         “Let’s move on to a study of projectiles,” he continues, and doesn’t miss Mr. Harris’s hushed ooh or the fact that he’d actually made an effort to be quiet for that one.