Pride and Principles(Peter)

[Ingrid Barnes]

"Now where did I drop that blasted thing?" Ingrid's voice echoed in the hall, as her hunched figure scurried around. She had ran some papers up here earlier this morning, but had apparently dropped one of her lesson plans in the process. Which led to a huffy old biddy walking up around the office area, reading glasses pushed far up on her nose, peering about for the lost paper.

It wasn't as though she actually needed it for today. Ingrid knew all of her plans by heart, as she should after teaching here for so long. She could easily recreate it later, and it wasn't even today's lesson. It was just the principle of the thing. Ingrid didn't fancy spending all of her lunch playing sleuth and she was getting close to giving up so she could return to the lounge for some leftover casserole. And she had been planning to pester one of her old students today. The young man was actually her coworker now, but who's going to argue with someone her age? She straighten with a grand, "Humph!" And turned to the other end of the hall to look, a few grumbled curses falling out of her mouth along the way.

[Peter Longfield]

Soft brown ears perked comically at the strident tones that reached him from far down the hall. A very familiar set tones. Sometimes he ran the other way when he heard the irritation in the voice of this particular woman, but today she sounded more exasperated than outright angry. Which was good because he maybe wasn’t really supposed to be wandering around like this, but it was so much faster. Peter rounded the corner, toenails clicking on the floor. This form wasn’t exactly the best for sneaking around. Not that Peter was exactly the sneaking kind.

Apparently it was supposed to be hard to hold the respect of your students if you trotted down the hall as some fuzzy little critter, but Peter could wind between legs and dart through the halls much faster on four legs. And he’d found that a sharp nip usually disabused students of the notion that he was a pushover just because he spent much of his time being very small.

There were other advantages to being small. Like a very different perspective on life. Such as being able to see under the shelf that held sports trophies. Hmm, not going to be able to get that with a paw. And he didn’t feel particularly like shifting yet. So he yipped twice to get the woman’s attention and scratched at the bottom of the shelf, tail wagging enthusiastically.

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid was ready to give up hope and just trot back to the lounge, where she would undoubtedly complain to the first staff member she could grab. She was already deep within thinking about who'd she pester with her troubles, she hadn't heard from that recruiter in a while and he did always give her a laugh, when a sharp yipping caught her attention. Turning with an expectant look on her face, Ingrid walked over to the small dog.

She couldn't quite keep her lips from twitching at the sight. No matter how many times Ingrid saw Peter in this form, she still was caught up in the cuteness every time. It had came into Peter's favor as a student. Anytime she'd been ready to get sore with him over an assignment, she'd see him as some adorable little creature and wouldn't be able to keep the gruffness up. Not that she'd ever let the boy know it. She did not want to seem soft.

"Under there?" She asked, not really expecting an answer as she hiked her skirt to her knees and crouched beside the trophy case. She reached under and pulled put her paper, a little crumpled but otherwise intact. "Ah ha!" She grinned in triumph and patted Peter's dog head with gusto. As she straightened back up to her meager height, she thanked her former student. "I would have never found it. It's a good thing you came along. I was actually planning to check in on you today, young man."

[Peter Longfield]

When he’d first started harnessing his ability, Peter had been disappointed. The other shifters in his class were turning into things like lions and wolves and golden eagles. His easiest shift was into a cat and he couldn’t manage anything much bigger. It soon became evident that the problem wasn’t with Peter’s control. His ability apparently came with limitations. As grew more comfortable with the idea of being a pocket pet for the rest of his life, he realized that being small gave him a different sort of power from the impressive predators and one that was just as strong. Being small and adorable was a superpower in itself. It could get him extra pie from the ladies in the cafeteria. It could get the nurse to give him the coolest band-aids and occasionally it even softened the blow of a lecture.

Not that Peter went around manipulating people with a fuzzy coat and big round eyes all the time, but every now and then, it came in handy. Like when he’d forgotten to complete a biology assignment because he’d gotten sidetracked with a book on Wellington’s army. Even the lively old woman that had terrified him when he’d first arrived at the institute as a very confused ten-year-old boy (and still put the fear of God in him on a regular basis) couldn’t hide a smile at one of his favorite forms. The little Beagle fit his personality. He swore those dogs could smile and it was hard to stop the wagging tail.

The little dog turned in a happy circle and then sat to watch her retrieve the papers. He cocked his head to the side in the way of dogs everywhere when pondering something. Ah, success. And that was the spot right there. He fought the urge to let his back leg start scratching. There was a limit to the adorableness. And he had to have some pride. He yipped as her hand left his head and he popped back up to his feet, turning in another circle. Ingrid sometimes seemed to forget that he was an adult that was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Well, there had been that incident with the red shirt and the whites with the laundry, but really. That was once.

Peter knew that as much as Ingrid liked his furry little forms, she also liked conversation. Usually centered around eating healthy, wearing ‘proper’ attire, and not spending all of his time with a nose in a book. He huffed once and then shifted. The woman suddenly had a two-legged companion in the hall. “You mean you were planning to interrogate me. I’ve been eating and sleeping and going to class. The ones that I teach. Because I’m a teacher now. Not a student any more. Speaking of eating, I tried that recipe you gave me. I think it was missing a little basil. Try that next time.”

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid gave Peter a quirky grin when he reappeared as human. She waved his comments off with a flip of a hand, looking gleeful. "Interrogation? As if I would ever." She said, showing her best mock offensive face. Ingrid knew that was exactly what she was planning to do once she caught the math instructor, but she felt interrogating was a bit strong to describe her (in her mind) friendly chats.

She observed him critically, glancing over his attire. He was still too skinny in her opinion and normally she would have called him out on it. (Really how many times in the past years had Ingrid tried to fatten poor Peter up?) But his other hurried, and to her amusement, huffy words caught her attention more directly. "Of course I know you're a teacher here. I haven't went senile yet!" She bit off with a short bark of hoarse laughter. It would always be a mystery why Ingrid found her impending loss of mind so funny.

"Ah, I felt it needed something." She agreed, actually letting Peter off without an argument. Ingrid trusted Peter's tastes in food. Since she was getting older, and regrettably loosing her taste buds, she was content with forcing asking her former student to try out her recipes. He was guaranteed to improve them. Not, of course, that Ingrid would let on that they needed improving in the first place. "Basil hmmm? Richard hates basil. I'll have to try it very soon."

[Peter Longfield]

Peter just rolled his eyes. If he was truly bothered by the woman’s mothering ways, he wouldn’t seek her out as often as he did. “No, you always.” He was used to fielding questions from everything about his love life to what detergent he used for his laundry. Peter would never admit it, but he kind of liked having someone looking after him. He had a tendency to forget things like eating when he got engrossed in a new project. Which was probably why he was always being scolded for being too skinny. He preferred lean.

He was well aware the woman was not senile yet. She had eyes like a hawk and it seemed like he could never get anything past her. She just sometimes seemed to forget that he was a grown man. Fully capable of taking care of himself. He did not however share her amusement at the inevitable decline of her condition. She was old. Not that he would ever risk his life by voicing that opinion out loud. But Peter wasn’t good with change and he wasn’t sure what he would do at the institute without Ingrid. Hopefully he had a good long while before he had to even think about it.

It had taken several tries to convince Ingrid that he was actually capable in the kitchen, but they had worked out a fun arrangement of sapping recipes and sometimes even cooking together. To make sure that Peter was doing things correctly of course. Her husband occasionally popped in to see what was up, but if it didn’t have meat in it, he wasn’t overly interested. And Peter refused to even prepare anything with meat in it. If other people wanted to eat it, fine, but he wasn’t going to. He spent too much of his time as one animal or another to eat one.

Peter shook his head in amusement at her intent to add more basil to the recipe despite Richard’s dislike of it. “And you keep telling me I need to find someone and settle down. Sounds like all you two do is find new ways to drive each other up the wall. I’ll stick to my books thank you.”

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid let his accusation go with a shrug. So she was a bit intense with her involvement in other people's lives. That was ingrained in her nature. Ingrid only pried out of love. Though some questions really didn't need to be asked. Inquiring about the choice in sock color wasn't exactly necessary, but it was just one of things that came when dealing with Ingrid. As long as the object of her pestering didn't protest to much, Ingrid would happily continue being a part of their life.

Ingrid did forget that Peter was grown, from time to time. Just as she seemed to forget that she was not his mother. Ingrid had trouble letting go of the image of Peter as that small child, frightened of being at Hammel and in need of solace. Ingrid hadn't completely been a comforting force at first, her brash ways scared many people, but she had tried to show the boy care. Over time it seemed he got over Ingrid's personality and now she could have these deep conversations with him. She just couldn't stop acting like the surrogate mother to that little boy and she was a bit to old to change now.

"Ah but that's just our way of caring about each other." Ingrid argued with a smile. She and Richard continuously bickered about one thing or another but they rarely fought. Honestly it took someone like that to put up with her. Ingrid knew she wasn't easy to live with. If it took some pranks and cross words to deal with her, then Ingrid would take it. Besides, no matter what she said Ingrid really did love her husband. "Not every one ends up feuding like us."

"Speaking of which..." Ingrid drew out her words, a sly smile creeping across her face. Really Peter should be expecting this kind of talk by now and should know better then to plant an idea in her mind. "Have you met anyone? It's been a while since I've asked." If four days counted as a while, that is. But it was Tuesday and who knows what could have happened over the weekend.

[Peter Longfield]

There could hardly be two more opposite people. Where Ingrid barged in and demanded answers, Peter was happy to leave people to their own lives. She was curious, loved gossip, and had a nurturing nature. Peter preferred to study the people of history over those of current times and had no interest in having children of his own. He never failed to offer support for his students and enjoyed being a teacher, but he didn’t seem to bring home the strays the way Ingrid did. But Ingrid had come into his life during a time when he had needed someone to be more than a teacher. He’d left his home to come to a strange place and just because everyone else at the institute was special in one way or another had taken the target off his back for bullies. Not that she hadn’t terrified him at first, but she’d always been kind under the gruff exterior.

Despite being more than a bit of a geek, Peter had actually been in a few relationships before. Apparently he was cute. But he’d never met anyone he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. There had been one boyfriend that had been way too clingy for the man who was used to spending hours in a book. There had been another who thought he could change Peter into a more outgoing person that actually attended and enjoyed loud parties. And then there had been the two that had taken advantage of his trusting nature. Not that Peter was really any more cautious these days; he just had kind of quit worrying about finding happily ever after. Especially if it came with arguments about leaving the toilet seat up and using too much basil.

“I don’t see how you both don’t have constant headaches from all the fuss.” They were incredibly amusing to watch bicker back and forth, but Peter didn’t think he had the energy to constantly feud with someone like that. Maybe that’s what it took to keep a relationship interesting for so many years. He didn’t seem to be able to keep one interesting for more than a few months. By then, he was usually ready for solitude again.

A sigh accompanied the rolling eyes this time. Peter wasn’t surprised at her follow up question. It was one he heard often from the nosy woman. She asked just about every time she saw him and it wasn’t unheard of for her to try and set him up with someone. The familiarity of the question didn’t stop the light blush from flooding his cheek. “Well, there was sort of a thing, but then…no, not really.”

[Ingrid Barnes]

If Ingrid was about thirty years younger, she would agree that Peter looked adorable. But as it stood she was well in her sixties and didn't put too much mind into the looks of men young enough to be her offspring. She thought that Peter was well off enough in both brains and potential looks to have a relationship. She had heard bits about his past loves and was sympathetic. Ingrid believed that you had to go through some duds to get someone worthwhile. She herself had serious relationships before Richard. She'd almost married another man, in fact. But when you found the right one you'd know it and be all the happier for it. Ingrid wanted to see that happiness for everyone, especially her favorites, and that's what motivated her to act like the busy matchmaker she was.

"Husbands are the reason they made Tylenol." She said smartly, quirking a smile at her own joke. The bickering did keep them both on their toes and kept the years from seeming so repetitive. Besides, Ingrid did enjoy having someone to fight with. Made her a much more pleasant person to be around when there was someone to disagree with her. If anyone thought Ingrid was harsh now, they wouldn't want to meet her if Richard ever stopped being in her life.

She came close to commenting on the rolled eyes, but refrained by reminding herself that she wasn't in charge of him anymore. She could let him by with some impudent behaviors since he was an adult. Instead she smirked devilishly at his mistake. Oh, Peter shouldn't have even mentioned that he had a thing. The blushing wasn't helping either. It just made Ingrid swoop in like a vulture after its prey.

"A thing?" She stressed the words with a noise that was practically a cackle. "With whom? Where and when?" Ingrid leaned towards him, eyes shining with mirth. She looked like a giddy school girl in her gossip mode. She punctuated her rapid fire injuries with a sharp and only slightly accusatory, "Do I know them?"

[Peter Longfield]

Peter wasn’t sure whether he believed in the concept of soul mates or not. He was enough of a scientist to understand that the stages of love were induced by hormones, but that didn’t really make it any less real. And how were you supposed to recognize The One? Peter had been head over heels before. More than once. And those had never ended particularly well.

He couldn’t really imagine living with someone either. He’d dated before, but never gotten to the point of cohabitating with someone. Peter was used to having his own space and he wasn’t particularly fond of being disturbed. Perhaps it was something you just had to get used to. There certainly seemed to be benefits of living with someone, but he wasn’t sure that they would outweigh the costs. He’d had one boyfriend who always seemed to want sex just when Peter was really getting into a proof. That had been rather inconvenient and hadn’t lasted all that long.

“I’d prefer to avoid the headache altogether.” Peter wasn’t really one to argue. He would debate for hours over historical facts or mathematical theorems, but those discussions didn’t tend to get loud. Unless he had a strong stance against the idea, Peter was usually happy enough to go along with others. He didn’t like stirring up trouble.

Peter groaned. He knew better than to even hint at a romantic interest. And it wasn’t really a thing. More like he met a very attractive man and had been too nervous to introduce himself. “It wasn’t really a thing. Like, nothing…I mean…” He hated talking about this sort of thing. It made him feel like a teenage girl. “I didn’t actually get his name, but he works here. I was a squirrel and he was…then he nearly spilled my cocoa.”

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid waved a hand dismissively, entirely too used to this argument. She'd try to convince Peter that The One wasn't just a fairy tale and he'd politely back out of the disagreement, with a firm 'no'. It didn't stop Ingrid from trying, if the blind dates she had set Peter up for in the past years was any indication. She was still finding the need to apologize -in Ingrid's special way of not asking for forgiveness but rather heaping food and trinkets on you- for the odd fellow with the vampire fetish Ingrid had sent Peter's way. She truthfully didn't know the man was so, special, until after the fact. He'd seemed so nice at the time.

"Again, my dear, not everyone fights like me and Richard. We're an oddity." Ingrid acknowledged the fact that most couples didn't yell for three hours over turkey bacon. "Besides you're too easy going to end up one half of a psychotic debate team."

Ingrid's grin grew impossibly larger at the boy's groan. She stood by like a lion ready to pounce, ears ready to soak in every detail. "You met him as a squirrel." It was a statement, said flatly and accompanied by an arched eyebrow. She shook her head at this, finding it humorous. "That's one way to get the man's attention, I suppose."

"So, he works here?" Ingrid's devilishness went up by a few notches, smirk clearly spelling out terrible things. She tapped her chin in a thoughtful manner, pulling off her readers to be wiped against her skirts. Her smirk was still in place as she spoke, her tone calm and wicked. She was even pulling out the little nicknames that only boded ill. "I know everyone who works here, sweetheart. I know him."

The implications were clear, Ingrid fully intended to find out who the object of Peter's attention was. Just to peek in on him, there was no harm in that if the other man worked here. For knowings sake, not for meddling. Because Ingrid Barnes never meddled.

[Peter Longfield]

It wasn’t that Peter disbelieved his former professor, he just wasn’t sure he believed her either. Things had obviously worked out for her, if in a kind of bizarre, loud way, but he hadn’t seen much proof of it himself. Ingrid kept trying to help and he was sure she had the best of intentions. Unfortunately, she hadn’t a clue about the gay scene. He’d met some interesting characters through her, that was for sure. One he was still good friends with. A few others that probably were best not to be mentioned again. She had fabulous taste in the looks department (which was a little terrifying to contemplate, so he didn’t), but not so much luck with a personality that Peter could stand to sit through an evening with.

“I quite enjoyed debate team, but I don’t believe I’d like to bring it home with me.” Peter was not the loud sort. Even when he was furious, he was more likely to walk away and calm down rather than yell. His insults were dry and quiet and if he disliked someone, he was likely just to avoid them. Someone had once told him that passive aggressive people were more violent than people who got confrontational when they were angry. Peter hadn’t studied much psychology so he couldn’t really say either way. As long as you left him alone while he was reading and didn’t spill his hot chocolate, there was really very little that got his hackles up. Which would make arguing with him somewhat difficult.

Of course she would think it was funny that first contact was made as a four-legged animal. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that odd of an occurrence for someone who spent a great deal of time with fur. Peter just shrugged. “The window to the staff lounge was open and I wasn’t expecting company.” The man was obviously a very big fan of squirrels, but he probably wasn’t looking to date one.

“And, I was kind of a jerk. And I’m never a jerk, but he almost spilled my cocoa barging in and I was already rattled.” Peter did feel rather bad about that. He wasn’t usually one to be snippy, but he’d already been thrown off by the kind of really hot guy and then the guy had unexpectedly appeared again. He debated whether or not to give the woman any more ammunition. He hadn’t recognized the man and he’d been at the school for over twenty years. But Ingrid did indeed know pretty much everyone affiliated with the school. “I’d have remembered him if I’d seen him before. Tall, dark hair, very good looking. I don’t know.”

[Ingrid Barnes]

Ingrid rolled her eyes in a well meaning sort of way, giving Peter a I-Know look. "Of course not. You're no fighter." She meant it in the kindest way possible. Peter wasn't a confrontational lad, more likely to walk away then resort to violence. Which was admirable in Ingrid's book. She thought it took a certain amount of guts not to fly off the handle at distress.

"Ah." She murmured in understanding. It wouldn't be the first time she'd heard of staff using powers in the lounge thinking no one would see. And it certainly wouldn't be the first time, Peter had roamed the school as a non-human mammal. It didn't mean she couldn't find it funny. And if prompted, Ingrid would disagree with Peter's sentiments. She'd met some strange folks in her time, even those who'd be very willing to start a relationship with a furry creature. (Though Ingrid hoped no one like that was working here. As open minded as she tried to be, Ingrid would not know how to react to that kind of love.)

Ingrid melted into an actually sincere smile and patted Peter's arm comfortingly. "My dear, I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. I haven't ever seen you go beyond being a little curt." She took her hand away and placed a finger on her chin in thought at Peter's description.

"Tall, dark hair, good looking. She repeated, shaking her head. "You just described half the men at Hammel. But you said you haven't seen him before, so I can strike out most of the teaching staff. And the older men, I'm sure you would have mentioned that, and you know most of the trainers and guards, I think."

She snapped her fingers after a moment, grinning. "I bet it's one of the recruiters or research staff. Recruiters are gone a lot and some of the researchers don't venture much out of their labs." Ingrid looked pretty pleased with herself over this epiphany. "Unless their very new, in which case I must seek them out anyway, because I'm sure that no one mentioned new staff lately."

[Peter Longfield]

It wasn’t that Peter couldn’t fight. He was actually a very accomplished fencer. But that was a gentleman’s sport. There were time limits and zones of attack and specific footwork. It was a bit like a very fast paced chess match. Which made it a sport that fit Peter’s personality very well. He could be incredibly competitive during the fencing tournaments he occasionally entered, but that part of him always turned off as soon as he left the strip. If something ever came to blows, he was probably fit enough to hold his own for a bit, but he didn’t have the killer instincts that made someone an effective fighter. Fencing had taught him how to see the openings, he just didn’t have the heart to go for them with anything but a rubber tipped foil.

Peter didn’t mind shifting around other people. All of the regular staff knew who they were looking at if some small creature happened to be curled up in the lounge or even sometimes trotted (or flew) down the hall. It was a school of unusual people and there were several students and staff with the ability to shift. But he usually preferred to meet people in his human form and warn them before he turned into something with fur or scales. It was so awkward when they cooed all over what they thought was a stupid wild animal and then found out it was really a man.

A hint of pink crept up Peter’s neck. He had really been quite rude. “Well I was quite curt. And he was miffed. I could tell.” Peter rarely ever cursed and his insults were never shouted, but he rarely left you with any doubt that you had just been cut down. The Stranger had obviously caught on well enough if his rapid exit was anything to go on.

Statistically, blondes were usually his thing, but Peter didn’t really have a type. He was more worried about finding someone who didn’t mind that he had a rather unique ability and that sometimes intimate relations required dragging him away from math papers first. He certainly wasn’t immune to a pretty face though. Although The Stranger wasn’t really pretty. More ruggedly handsome. “He was probably about my age and he can't be a teacher who’s worked here for any amount of time. But it doesn’t matter. I was rude and…he kind of made a fool of himself over the squirrel. I doubt he’d be too enthusiastic to find that someone had actually heard that nonsense.”

[Ingrid Barnes]

"If you really think you've insulted the man, may I suggest you apologize?" Ingrid offered, giving Peter an appraising look that turned devious after a moment. Leave it to Ingrid to never loose the opportunity to interject about someone's romantic life. "It would be the easiest way to clear up this misunderstanding. And when he realizes you are not some little snark, you two might find you get along."

Ingrid looked off to the left, puzzling over Peter's description. She had the feeling that she knew whom Peter was talking about, but she couldn't grasp the answer. She gave up after a few moments, only slightly worried about not being able to remember, and decided to find out later. "Peter dear, you'll never know until you talk to him again. And he won't exactly be the first to coo over you in animal form. I think that once you two have gotten past this spat, you two might find it a story to laugh over. Even if that only means you two are friends."

She shifted slightly, smiling softly up at Peter. "I think that you always end up to hard on yourself. It's admirable that you're not the conceited type, and believe me, people like you all the better for it. But you don't need to think so little of your charm." Ingrid nodded to herself, in an all knowing manner. "You'll win him over, once he sees you on a good day. I'm certain of it."