Chapter Text
Danny was on her third cup of coffee and second red pen when the knock sounded. She rose from her desk, thankful for a break from marking the freshman seminar papers.
“Just a sec!” She threw her arms forward and linked her fingers, rolled her shoulders and gave her stiff neck a good pop. She yanked the glasses from her face, stashing them atop the dresser as she crossed to the door of her private room.
She opened the door to find one Zeta, a Mr. Brody Kirsch, beefy forearms in the default cross over his chest, perpetually dopey and clueless countenance waiting for an invite.
Which would not be extended.
“Sup with you and L2?” he asked.
“Kirsch? What are you doing here?”
“As social chair, I’ve gotta keep all the Zeta bros in the know about the sketchness going down on campus. I don’t need my guys accused of something they didn’t do. But if they did do it, we gotta bring the hammer down hard, Summer Psycho.” To emphasize, Kirsch pounded a sturdy fist into his opposite palm.
Danny replied with a dramatic eyeroll.
Undeterred, or oblivious (who can really tell with this guy?), Kirsch continued his socially engrained rant of machismo:
“Since you’re all up in the investigative workings with L2, I figured I’d come to the source. Additionally, and this is no detraction from your own badassness, but you scare me a lot less than leather-scary-hottie. Figured I’d come find you, since I’m like, communications liaison for the bros. So, spill it. We got short-pale-and-broody all tied up, so what can we do to help you and L2 protect the hotties of our bangin’ student body?
“L2?” Danny asked, fatigued and careless enough to open the door an inch wider. She placed her hands at the small of her back and leaned against the door frame, thankful not to be sitting down. Even if she was conversing with Kirsch, of all people.
“You and Laura? Like, lady Starsky and Hutch?”
“So… Cagney and Lacey.”
“Wait, there’s another L? Dammit, now it’s L-cubed, which does not have the same ring, blue eyes.”
It took significant effort on Danny’s part to control the urge to facepalm.
“How—what—Kirsch, L2? What do—why are you calling her that?”
“She told me she didn’t really like ‘little nerd hottie’. But, dude, she is. A little nerd hottie. But she doesn’t like it, so now we’ve got L to the two. Little Laura! Unless this Lacey chick comes in, in which case—”
“So…" Just shut it down, Danny. "L2?”
“I can do math, you know,” Kirsch stood taller, as if in lengthening his spine, differential calculus would rise from under his neo-classical jaw like stubbly algebraic Braille lines. “If you’re gonna do eight fluid ounces of a mixer to four ounces of forty-proof, taking into account your pregame regimen and average body mass index, you’re looking at black-out status in—”
“Yes, your computation of impending black-outs leaves Stephen Hawking quaking on his wheels.”
“Not cool, blue eyes. He might talk like dude Siri, but he basically invented time.”
“God, he didn’t invent time, dumbass… wait. You’ve read A Brief History of Time?”
“I’ve got two words for you: time travel. Like, how ballin’ would it be to go whenever you wanted? Parties in the future, I bet it’s all neon and hoverboards. British wheels basically said it was possible, and he totes stomped on Einstein in his epic rap battle.”
“That’s not… He didn’t rap— well, you took a far more optimistic view of that book than I did.”
“Whatever Summer Pyscho, back to ladies of the lost. See, you just gotta let me in on the action with L2! She’s all up in this case like Nancy Drew, and it took us a while to get the ropes around scary hottie, so what’s the deal? Will won’t tell me anything, and Natalie’s been freaked ever since SJ… well, you know.” His hands finally dropped from their semi-hostile chestcross and migrated to his jean pockets.
Danny preferred the asymmetry of his working jaw, like he couldn’t quite set his face into an appropriate expression of emotion. That’s how she figured he genuinely wanted to help: because he was confused enough and desperate enough to show his vulnerability to her, the campus ‘Summer Psycho’.
“I know you two were… close,” she offered.
“I mean, I wasn’t about to put a ring on it, but she was a super cool babe before she got pod-peopled. Played Assasin’s Creed with me, and liked it. Damn cool chick. I’ve never… there was this sophomore, back in my high school, he got killed in a car wreck. Didn’t really know him, but SJ? I’ve never been close to someone who’s died before, blue eyes.”
“I’m sorry, Kirsch. It’s… it is hard, when stuff like this happens. And the bad thing is, it’s not the first time this has happened at Silas. For all we know, Betty’s dead, too. Authorities usually give them—”
“—forty-eight hours, I know. Then they might as well be dead.”
“Shoulda known you were into reality TV.”
“I read that, Summer Psycho,” Kirsch bristled.
“You read?” she asked, incredulous.
“For your class, duh! Gotta crack the books to pass. I’m not into these stupid flying-saucer stories, but Beowulf was awesome! He’d totally make a badass bro. Viking bro. Broking. Dude, King of the Bros!”
“It’s Chaucer, not saucer. And BroKing, huh?” another eyeroll, incapable of suppression. “Exactly what I want coming across in my lectures.”
“Mission accomplished!”
“Sarcasm.”
“Oh well, irregardless—”
“God, not a word—”
“Beowulf kicked monster ass, Psycho.”
“Kirsch! Quit with the 'Summer Psycho' crap. It’s rude.”
“Sorry, I give all my bros their nicknames on reflex, dude— blue eyes.”
“I’m not your bro, so Danny is fine. Just Danny.”
“Nah, Danny’s so boring! You’re like my bro sis, and we got L2, scary strong hottie—”
“You called SJ by her name.”
“She asked me to, blue. Plus, she was my babe.”
“Fine,” Danny said, exasperated. The conversation was spiraling into tedium. Marking freshman seminar papers didn’t seem so bad, comparatively. “I’m asking: Kirsch, could you just call me Danny?”
“I thought I was supposed to call you Miss Lawrence?” he said, tacking on a set of unnecessary wiggly eyebrows.
“When we’re talking pod-people, it’s Danny. When it’s Beowulf, Miss Lawrence is fine.”
“Awesome. So then, Danny, what about leads, with the girls? Who do I get to put the beat down on?”
Danny sighed, but continued reluctantly. Annoying as gnats and damn persistent should be the Zeta motto. “Uhm, Kirsch, it’s not as simple as you think. First off, you can’t just go around beating on people with impunity. This is Silas, behavior like that is tribunal-worthy. Besides, there’s… sort of an issue with an authority figure.”
“Authority figure?” Kirsch questioned, and Danny could see the connections zipping through his synapses at regular human-speed. Impressive for a mesomorph, as Laura would say (though Laura was much sweeter than Danny). “You mean like a prof? ‘Cause that’s way outta line, du—Danny. Girls start thinking they have to do stuff for grades, and then we’re neck deep in some Law & Order shit.”
“No, it’s not… quite like that. There’s still more stuff we have to figure out before we do anything. We don’t want to act prematurely.”
“Premature, bad. Right-o Danny girl.”
“Kirsch.”
“Danny.”
And that’s as much as she was willing to give him. For now. She’d never been particularly graceful at conversational exits, or of getting people out of her space without, well, pushing them bodily from her path, so she tried a topic change in hopes the boy would leave from boredom:
“Have you even started on you literature assignment? Or have you been too wrapped up in chivalric fantasies of saving damsels in distress?”
“Me? Damsels? Thought that was your thing, blue eyes.”
Woah, where did that come from?
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny blustered.
“You’re running for L2 every time a co-ed so much as twitches. Give her a break, she’s a big girl. I mean, not really, but, figuratively speaking, like we were talking about in class? In a metaphorical way, she’s a big girl. Besides, I’m 95% sure she socked Will in the throat, but he’s been sulking over some big assignment so I can’t rag on him for it.”
“Laura and I are… it’s none of your business. Besides, she’s my student,” Danny didn’t know when, but at some point in the conversation her hands had moved to cross over her own chest, which, duh, blatant body aggression, bro. “You should probably just let Will sulk. And maybe avoid him. And possibly kick him out of the frat.”
Well, so much for keeping tight-lipped.
“Dude—Danny, Will’s my bro. Even if he got his ass kicked by—”
“What, by a girl?”
“I was gonna say someone a whole foot shorter than him.”
“Oh,” Danny said, abashed. “Huh.”
“Don’t criticize me before I even make a mistake for you to correct! That’s what the midterm assignment’s for,” Kirsch replied good-naturedly, maybe even a bit smug, which might imply some sort of higher awareness, which… huh, Danny thought.
“Besides, I’ve seen you at the kick-boxing class," Kirsch continued. "You could probably hand me my ass on a platter, girl or not.”
“That’s… surprisingly egalitarian of you.”
“Yeah, well… your face is egalitarian!”
Annnnnnd now we’ve come full-circle with obtuse adolescent retorts. Time to abort.
“Just… go write your paper. And look up ‘egalitarian’ while you’re at it. I’ll fill you in on the pod-people as soon as I have something to report. If it’s anything like we think, we’ll probably need a lot of help from the Zetas. Just maybe not Will.”
“Why not Will?” Kirsch asked seriously. “Is it something personal or… do you really think he has something to do with all of this?”
“We don’t know enough about it yet, Kirsch. Don’t act any differently around him, though. Don’t confront him,” Danny insisted, reaching out to grab his wrist. “We don’t need any more casualties.”
…
…
…
“Will’s my bro, and this is some serious shade you’re throwing his way,” Kirsch answered. “I need to know if you think he’s involved, for real. We have an internal bro code that deals with stuff like this.”
Danny dropped her hand, flustered and unsettled by Kirsch’s tone. “What is—”
“Can’t tell you that. Summer Soc’s got their secrets, and I know you would never rat on them. Don’t ask me about our stuff, and I won’t ask you about yours.”
“You wouldn’t do anything… illegal, would you?” Danny asked. Not that Will wouldn’t deserve it, but she was an employee of the school. There were any number of illegalities that could occur on campus because, well, Silas, but a Zeta Omega Mu version of a student tribunal Danny could see getting out of hand very quickly. Like a grease fire doused in lighter fluid, with inebriated brethren throwing back flaming shots. And well-meaning but deluded Kirsch, burning in the middle of it. Maybe she’d have to give him a little information to keep him from doing something exceedingly stupid.
“Nothing illegal, at least, not in the student handbook. But the bro code is law. And if we’re talking about him abducting people, he’s gotta take the punishment. And every brother has the right to exact it. So I’m asking you, Danny, because you’ll tell me straight… do you think Will’s behind this?”
“I think he’s… involved,” Danny conceded. “I don’t know everything, but he’s definitely linked to these disappearances.”
“You got any proof of that?”
“Just the word of someone I don’t trust,” Danny practically snarled.
“Then why do you believe it?”
“Because Laura trusts her.”
“And you trust Laura.”
“Yes. A shaky little ladder of confidence we’re climbing here.”
“Well, just add some more rungs. ‘Cause I trust you. And the bros trust me, so you can count on us, whenever you decide to act.”
“Why do you trust me? You barely know me.”
“Dude, you’re Danny Lawrence! You and the Summer Society are legend. We’ve got alums still raving over the Zeta/Summer Soc mixer of 2012, not to mention the fact that you straight-up put Kevin in his place.”
Danny chuckled. “Knives like those aren’t allowed on school property.”
“He may be a bro, but he’s a total douche.”
“Agreed.”
“So, we cool, blue eyes?”
“Danny,” she corrected.
“I’m sorry, Miss Lawrence, I have a paper to work on,” Kirsch said, and saluted his exit.
“And trouble to stay out of!” Danny called down the hall.
“Same to you. But if you ever feel like getting into a little trouble, just remember, I got your back.”
“Sure.”
“It’s what bros are for, blue eyes!”