Good Reception

by Merry Amelie

Title: Good Reception
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: PG
Summary: The semester starts with a party.

I'm posting Arcadia and Q/O drabbles to TPM 100.

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 131
A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at the Master Apprentice ML.

My MA story page is here.

Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com.
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue

Ian raced up the steps to the fourth floor of Taton Hall. His last class of the day had just ended, and he wanted to get to the reception celebrating the start of the semester before Quinn and the others finished all the best food.

Success! Ian saw the tray of pigs in blankets the second he entered the room. Quinn was standing by them, of course, while he talked with Ethan, Evan, and Case.

Quinn grinned widely as soon as he saw his lad. Ian meandered towards them, wending his way through clumps of professors, in his chocolate-brown corduroy jacket and cream slacks, looking good enough to eat. His wedding ring gleamed at Quinn through the crowd like a beacon.

Quinn's eyes crinkled when he saw more than a few women tracking his husband across the room. Professor Shan actually blushed when Ian greeted her. Some things never changed.

"Hey, guys." Ian squeezed Quinn's shoulder, then dipped a hot dog in deli mustard and popped it into his mouth.

Quinn was grateful that these were bite-sized franks; he always had a hard time when his lad ate hot dogs in public, even though Ian did his best to downplay his natural sensuality. At least it wasn't the Fourth of July, when the footlongs fired Quinn's imagination a bit too much.

Ian caught his husband's eye and smiled in understanding while the conversation went on around them.

Evan was in mid-complaint. "...supposed to have three sections in my Shakespeare class, but I ended up with four rosters. And the extra kids to go along with it." He glared at Case accusingly.

"Evan, you know that the rosters aren't finalized until late September. We just have an overflow again this semester." Case helped himself to a mini-eggroll. "It'll ease up in the spring. Always does," he said soothingly.

Evan sighed. "I know, Case. I've seen the enrollments on the net. It's just so frustrating." He took a calming sip of red wine.

Quinn nodded. "Too true, Ev. I've been fighting for smaller classes for years, but we've been getting fewer allocations since the budget crunch started."

"At least you have room for the students," Ian said. "My classroom didn't have enough seats for everyone, so I had to send a few kids out to scavenge unused chairs down the hall."

Ethan snorted. "I only wish I had your problem, Ian. Some of my students can't even buy their books yet. The bookstore's already out of Sense and Sensibility, but five people still need copies." He grumbled into his wine.

Poor Case went through the same thing at the start of every semester. He was a master diplomat at fine-tuning schedules and resources, but Luke was growing too fast for him to manage.

When he'd first become Chair, the department had only 37 professors; now there were more than 50. And the student body had increased correspondingly.

Since English was a required subject for all entering first-years, Case was responsible for the disposition of literally thousands of students. His job was all but overwhelming.

Luckily, Case had old friends like Quinn to help. Though Quinn steadfastly refused a seat on the Departmental Council, he helped Case immeasurably, chairing three committees through the years, as well as advising. And he was grooming Ian to do the same.

Quinn happened to be chairing the textbook committee again this year. So it was with gratitude that Case heard Quinn step in.

"Don't worry, Eth. It's already on re-order. Should arrive by Thursday," Quinn said reassuringly.

Ian nodded. "My Restoration texts have just come in." He ate his sixth hot dog. "I've been lecturing from my research notes for the past week."

"I know." Quinn chuckled. "You've been in the library so much that Mrs. Newley is starting to get ideas."

Ian winked. "So that's why she didn't charge me a late fee for the Stevenson book I checked out last month."

Case grinned. "Now that explains it."

"At least the Xerox machine isn't broken," Evan said gamely.

"Yet!" Quinn and Ian chorused.

Everyone in their little group started laughing. The grousing session, combined with the good food and drink, had left the professors in a mellower mood than they had any right to be after the first, and hardest, week of classes.

When they'd finished most of the food on the buffet and the last of the wine, the party was over. Quinn and Ian used the restroom, then strolled back to their office. Their carpet had been cleaned just before the semester started, and the lingering smell of lemon was in the air, despite an open window.

"You look more delicious than the food, laddie." Quinn grinned lazily as he straightened Ian's tie.

Ian caught his hands and brought them to his lips. "Talk about delicious," he said, voice muffled as he nuzzled into them.

Quinn cupped his cheeks tenderly. He kissed Ian's forehead, tasting sweat-marinated laddie.

Ian brushed a dusting of chalk off Quinn's shoulders, where he had grabbed the jacket from his chair after class. He ran his cheek along Quinn's evening stubble. "So good to be done for the week."

Quinn hummed in satisfaction. "Seemed endless. Tuesday feels like last month."

They leaned into one another, each supporting the other after their hard start to the semester. They savored the closeness, the familiar scent, the embrace of strong arms.

The chapel clock chimed 9 pm, rousing them from their joint meditation.

Quinn whispered, "Ready to go home, meleth (love)?" He felt Ian smile into his cheek, even as he grinned in response.

"Just let me get my stuff together." Ian gave Quinn a gentle squeeze.

Full briefcases in hand, they headed outside. The cool September breeze was a pleasure after hours of over-air-conditioned classrooms.

"Nothing like Friday night, lad." Quinn wrapped his arm around Ian as they walked to the THX.

Ian beamed. Quinn was loosening up, even out here in the parking lot, where they'd saved Noah from a gay-bashing last year. More lighting had been added since then, not to mention security phones. Good ideas both, but it still had taken months for him to feel comfortable again here after dark, and he could only imagine the toll on his naturally reticent husband.

But time had a way of sorting things out; the warm weight of Quinn's arm on his shoulders attested to that.

The semester was off to a good start.