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Professor Chaucer's Office Hours, Monday

Professor Chaucer is sitting behind his desk, feet kicked up on the edge, staring out the window. He has a pocket watch which he keeps turning over in his hands. He doesn't look to be in a terribly good mood, although he'll probably talk to you if you bother him. The door to the office is closed, so you'll need to knock or be rude and barge in.

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"Where am I supposed to get gloves?" Geoff hunts around the kitchen. "This isn't the sort of place people usually wear gloves."

He looks over his shoulder at Ten. "What's 'nanotech'?"

"They come in the box, duh," Ten says, washing his hair in the utility sink and giving him a look--upside down. "And nanotech...god, I really can't explain it right now. Little robots that change things on the molecular level."

"Right. In the box." Geoff opens the box of bleach and pulls out the latex gloves, giving them a strange look. "Not very useful, are they?"

He carefully reads over the instructions, and then opens the bottle of bleach. "All right, I'm going to do this, but I take no responsibility for what happens. And you do know, by the way, that I still have no idea what you're talking about."

Following the directions on the box, Geoff proceeds to bleach Ten's hair.

"Just use them," Ten replies, and then bends over the sink again. "Besides, do you ever really know what I'm talking about? CJ doesn't, and she's from now, for christ's sake. I think I'm forever stuck in being misunderstood."

He wibbles at this until his hair is bleached and he almost passes out from the fumes. At least Geoff is good at following directions. Ten himself generally isn't, and he says so.

Geoff tries not to laugh too much at Ten's ongoing commentary on being misunderstood and incapable of following directions. Once the bleach is all rinsed out, he turns to the box of dye and reads it over.

"All right, I guess we're ready for the color. You still have time to back out, you know."

Ten looks him in the eye and grins, any doubts forgotten. "You think I'd want to be blond again? Please. Have at it."

"Something wrong with being blond?" Geoff asks, returning the grin as he waves Ten back to the sink.

"Here we go." He applies the coloring and reads out the directions on the box to Ten, just to occupy the man while the dye sets. Then he rinses it, hands Ten one of the towels, and steps back for a look.

"Well, I'm guessing it'll look a little different dry, but I think I like it."

"God, you could at least make up a poem or something," Ten says after the third 'Apply the shampoo to...' "Tell me a bawdy story. Christ. You're supposed to be the bard here."

Lifting up his head, he tilts his chin from side to side. "Yeah, it'll be less dark. But I like it. Lots. You should try it."

"You want me to concentrate on doing this properly, or do you want a story and see how things turn out on their own?" Geoff asks, his grin obvious in his voice.

He watches Ten examine the results. "No, that's all right, unlike some people I like being blond. I'm glad you like it, though. Because I didn't really want to hear about it if you hated it."

Cleaning up the mess they've made, he tosses the empty containers and gloves into the trash, along with the dye-stained towels. "I hope no one wants to eat in here today. You can still smell it."

"Oh, I forgot, the master must concentrate," is the sarcastic reply. He's careful not to touch his hair much, and sports the towel around his shoulders rather proudly. It looks like they've killed something or hacked up a side of beef.

"You should concentrate on everything that well."

"Ten, I do concentrate on everything that well," Geoff replies with a sly grin. "And it seems to have benefited you," he adds, waving his hand at Ten's newly ginger hair.

"You going to show that off to CJ?"

Ten makes a face back at Geoff. "Prove it then. Ha." Grinning a little, he examines the back of his head in the mirror. "And I would, but..."

He eyeballs the remaining dye in the trash. "The curtains don't match the carpet, if you catch my drift." Smirkingly, he looks up. "Care to help with that, too?"

That earns Ten something of a horried look. "You want to dye...No. No thank you, I'm going to heartily discourage you from that one. And I somehow doubt CJ's going to mind anyway."

Cocking his head, he says, "And how do you plan on her not seeing it?"

"Oh, she'll see it. I just wanted to freak you out." Geoff is now the recipient of a winning and amused grin.

Geoff shakes his head. "Between CJ this morning and you this afternoon? You've done a very good of that."

He gives Ten's shoulder a playful shove. "Now, get out of here and go show your girlfriend your new look."

"You sure you don't want a kiss?" Ten smirks at him.

"You want to kiss an old guy like me? CJ seemed to think the idea was pretty disgusting. Of course, she also yelled at me for something I haven't yet figured out and slammed the door, so..."

Geoff shrugs.

"She's a girl," Ten says and shrugs. "They do that. And dude, you are NOT that old. I'm the one who's old here." He gestures to himself (trying to forget that Jack had asked why he was twelve) and raises his brows. "Why would you want to kiss this, anyhow?"

Shite, now he was getting angsty.

Oh God, here we go again.

"Ten, you're...'old' chronologically in your mind, but right now you're young physically. And I think that's what counts at this point."

Geoff grimaces as he tries to figure out how to explain himself. "I don't think you're that young, myself. About ten years younger than me, which isn't that unusual where I come from. Which you know. But to the people here? That's a big difference, and it's especially a problem because you're not considered of age yet. So, yes Ten, I'd be happy to have a kiss from you. But I don't know think I should, until you're back to normal."

Ten, remarkably, listens to this, staring at Geoff. And he doesn't interject or anything. Finally, he says, "Geoff, mate...you? Have issues. But that's okay. I do too. And if that's how you feel..."

And then he bursts into laughter again.

Geoff just stares at Ten. After a moment he mutters under his breath, "God, I don't understand teenagers."

Running a hand through his hair, he says, "Yes, I probably do. Right now more than usual. But I'm not seventeen, so I also suppose I have one up on you. Go have fun being a kid again, Ten. I'll see you later."

He gives a small smile and squeezes Ten's shoulder, then heads out the door and back toward his office.

For some reason, Ten has the idea that he's fucked something up. He just has no idea what...

So he heads out.

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Professor Chaucer's Office Hours, Monday

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