|
Title: A Working Vacation
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: PG
Summary: Labor Day
Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 85
A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/master-apprentice/files/
My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie
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 and Ula
Quinn tapped on the laptop in his home office, welcoming the counterpoint of Ian's typing. He'd insisted that Ian take the desk, while he typed away on the oaken file cabinet, long legs straddling it, back aching slightly from hunching over in the kitchen chair.
Already in their pajamas, they wrote into the night on Labor Day, their questions for the Qualifying Committee exam due the next morning. More time was spent on soul-searching, demanded by their scrupulous fairness, than in actual composition. The exam would determine which graduate students would remain in the doctoral program, the chosen few that could go on to individualized advanced study. The relationship between a thesis advisor and his student was very much one of master and apprentice.
Quinn looked over at Ian with a smile. This was what he'd been waiting for: Ian had finally earned sufficient seniority to sit on one of Quinn's committees. He loved having Ian by his side to deflect the battles that constantly raged at these meetings.
Getting five people to agree to the same standards and grading system was an achievement in and of itself, and since Ian had joined him, they'd worked together as an unbeatable team. Ian instinctively played by the rules, and tried to achieve consensus with his well-researched facts and figures. Quinn, though prepared with facts of his own, tended to have an empathetic approach that connected with the other committee members.
Both of them had wanted to include John Gardner's Grendel in the sequence of Beowulf questions, while Case and Evan favored questions on the ancient text itself. Ethan remained undecided. Ian made the case for a unifying force, connecting Old English literature with modern writing. Quinn hadn't seen this much contention since he'd presented Danny Walker before the Council as his protege. Just as in Danny's case, the committee eventually came around to their point of view.
So now, the men were finishing up work on Beowulf and Grendel questions, and were back in a sixth century world of heroism and epic battles. They'd each had to come up with five questions, three of which would be used. Of course, Ian focused on Tolkien's Beowulf essay as inspiration for his questions, while Quinn asked for translations of key verses, made more challenging by the half-line structure.
"It's nice working here from time to time," Ian said, not even missing his snacks and music for the moment. He'd made a supreme effort not to fidget that evening, despite the temptation of drumming his nails on the oaken desk, and was rewarded by the fact that they'd completed their work about an hour earlier than expected. That, and Quinn looking over at him with a smile every so often.
"It's good to have you with me." Quinn reached a long arm over to pat Ian's shoulder.
"Reminds me of Georgeton. That's where I got my first taste of Old English. I took it as an evening course, and afterwards I used to go to a little dessert shop on M Street that was open all night. Best studying I ever did."
Quinn listened raptly; he loved to hear tales of his lad's adventures before they'd met. "Too bad I was already at Luke when you were there. Wish I'd met you earlier."
"Me too. Felt an ache back then, like something was missing."
"It was, lad, it was." Quinn's fingers tightened on Ian's shoulder.
Though academia had been good to them, and eventually enabled them to meet, their student lives had been the very definition of lonely. Ian had often felt a phantom presence as he walked to the Metro on those soft nights, indulging in dreams of a big man by his side. And Quinn's own dreams had faded into reality with the sound of a mischievous chuckle for years before a train ride had let him hear it for the first time fully awake.
Apparently, Washington had been just as lonely as New York. Quinn had taken his Ancient Languages course as an independent study with Julie Trevor, his thesis advisor, so there hadn't even been classmates for him to study with. But he did remember how enchanted he'd been the first time he'd read Njal's Saga.
Ian smiled thoughtfully. "Y'know, I even considered writing my dissertation on diplomacy in sixth century Icelandic lit. I'm glad I picked The Silmarillion instead."
"So am I. Can't imagine many symposia in this country on ancient Icelandic diplomacy." Quinn chuckled and got up from his seat to massage Ian's shoulders. "Ready for bed?"
"Yeah." Ian leaned back to enjoy Quinn's fingers for a moment.
Quinn pulled Ian up and kissed his brow. He was glad the pups were already abed for the night. The men leaned against one another for the short walk to their bedroom. Happy they had their pajamas on, they ducked under the covers and gravitated into each other's arms, Ian's head on Quinn's shoulder, Quinn's arm snugly wrapped around Ian's waist.
All their questions were answered for the night.