Approaching the Magical Mystery Medicine Bottle.... Removing the lid.... Making sure there are no sharks or piranha inside... Reaching in.... Grabbing a slip of paper.... Fishing Huh.

I've been away for a bit, but I popped back in to see if I could tolerate sitting in front of the screen for a while now that I'm trying a new treatment for my daily migraines. When I read the prompt, I immediately thought I would write a G5 story, but instead, this one manifested itself via the keyboard. Chief Anderson may well have been a cute kid, but he grew out of it. "Whose bright idea was it that we be educated by Jebbies?"* James Anderson demanded of no-one in particular. Since David Anderson was well aware that his older brother's question was rhetorical, he didn't answer. James paced to the safety railing of the penthouse balcony and back again, the sweeping views afforded by their location ignored. Since the apartment took up half of one floor of the building, there was plenty of room for pacing. David arrived at the end of the chapter he'd been reading and shut down the e-book. "Jay," he said, and growled softly as his voice cracked and slipped again as it had been wont to do more and more this year, "it's spring break. Haven't we got better things to do than complain about the family tradition of Catholic schooling?" "They want me," James snarled, fists clenched at his sides, "to re-take the Latin exam. I'm dropping Latin, for Pete's sake! Why should I re-take an exam in a subject I'm no good at and won't be continuing with? What use is it? What possible use, Davey, is Latin in the twenty-second century? If I'm going to learn another language, it oughta be Rigan, or even Spectran! Latin's a dead language." "As dead as it can be," David replied. "It killed the Ancient Romans," James continued, before both boys spoke the last line in weary chorus: "And now it's killing me!" "You don't have to go back to school to take the exam, do you?" David asked. "Nah," James said. He stretched, standing on his toes, arms extended over his head, his lanky fifteen-year-old frame wiry and taut from all the sport he played. "I'll just tele-comm from the study. Grandma Sorcha's going to be my supervisor." "Ah," David said, and pushed his glasses back up on his nose. "She must be pissed." "Royally," James sighed. He turned and directed a sidelong glance at his younger brother. "You probably know more Latin than she does." "Don't count on it," David said. He put the e-book on a low table beside the garden chair he was sitting in and drew his skinny knees up to his chest, hugging them with both arms. "You should never assume that Gran doesn't know something. Especially when it comes to languages." "Pfeh!" James snorted. "There are no operas in Latin, squirt." "Italian's similar enough," David said, "and Gran had the same kind of education as us. Family tradition, remember?" "What I really need is someone to help me swot before the exam," James said, embarking on a fishing expedition. David, reluctant to take the bait, made an attempt at deflection. "Thought you didn't care about Latin." "I don't," James said, "but I care about Gran coming up with some creative way to punish me for failing. She's already going to blow her top when I tell her I'm not taking Latin next semester." "You haven't told her?" David surmised. "Well, duh," James said with a shrug. "If she's going to be mad at me, wouldn't it be better if she got mad after we go back to school? You wanna have to deal with a pissed off Gran all through break?" "Good point," David said. "So are you gonna help me or not, squirt?" David sighed. "Okay," he said. James' triumphant smirk wasn't lost on the younger boy. James always got what he wanted. --- "I thought you wanted to study!" David leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "I do," James said. "It's just so boring! Ugh!" He threw his stylus down on the desk. It bounced, rolled and fell into the wastepaper basket. "Y'know," David said, "there are lots of other things I could be doing right now." He checked his watch. "Oh, rats! I gotta go! I'm meeting Bobby at the dojo for karate practice!" "Way to abandon the sinking ship, ratfink," James said, but the reproof lacked heat. --- David looked up from the sofa as James slunk into the room, dragging his feet. "Now!" Grandma Sorcha ordered, following a few steps behind. "The exam starts in ten minutes! You ought to have been set up and logged on by now!" David chewed and swallowed the bite of cookie he'd taken, then spoke. "Quo vadis,** Jay?" he asked. "Thanks," James quipped. "I'll need it." David groaned and fell back into the cushions. Latin was definitely a dead language. *Jebbies - slang term for Jesuits. **Quo vadis loosely translates to, "Whither goest?" or "Where are you going?" A/N: the Latin lament has been around for a very long time.

Glad you're back, GGO! (Sorry to hear about the migraines -- I hope you can put those behind you for a good, long time!) Paenitet me quod plures sunt Lectiones posse queri de eo