vigorli

Title: All the King's Horses 1/?: Viggo Michael Delany
Author: Rainweaver13
Pairing: Viggo/Orlando
Summary: Being gay is nothing easy for two men in the small-town South of the late '80s.

Rating/Warnings: The story begins PG but is likely to go just about anywhere. AU. Some het content, not explicit. Real-life angst.
Disclaimer: This is complete fiction. The characters in this story are being "played" by certain real actors, but that's the only connection with reality. None of the characters is meant to be a real person.

A/N: Viggo as V. Michael Delany, aka Dr. D, middle school principal and sometime junior college English teacher; Sean Bean as Sean Baker, car salesman and horseman; Orlando as James Orlando Kennedy, newspaper reporter. Feedback would really be appreciated on this one, since it's a far cry from Breathing Room and Growing Room.

Michael

First period was well underway and the hallways were respectably clear by the time Michael Delany made his way back to the administration hub of Hoffman Middle School. Stifling a leftover yawn, he scanned the interior of the outer office through the glass wall before shoving the door open. Ah, yes... one of his favorite recidivists was back again. He schooled a stern look onto his face as he caught the eye of Betty Hughes, the long-time school secretary.

"I'll be in my office, Betty." Making sure his face was turned away from the young boy slouched in defiant misery in one of the plastic chairs, he winked at Betty. "Those forms from the state are making me want to pull my hair out."

"There's fresh coffee, if that'll help," Betty said, keeping her smile hidden behind the raised ledge of the counter in front of her.

"Dunno what'll help. I'm likely to be biting heads off all day." Picking up the mail from his in-basket, Michael grinned to himself as he strode down the short corridor to his office. He dropped off the mail on his desk, stepped across the hall to the tiny break room to pour himself a large mug of coffee, heavy on the cream and sugar, then went back to settle into his chair with a comfortable sigh. Two sips into the coffee, he picked up the phone and dialed Betty's number rather than use the speaker.

"Hoffman Middle School."

"Hey, Bets... How long's he been out there this time?"

"About ten minutes," Betty said primly, but he could hear the amusement in her voice. Ten minutes would mean that Jerome barely made it into first period before being sent to the office. That might be a new record, even for Jerome.

"Okay. See if you can get the teacher's side of it and let me know, and let him chill out there for another ten or fifteen minutes, then send him back."

"Yes, sir, Mr. D."

"Oh, and Bets - Love the new haircut."

Betty laughed and hung up the phone. Michael set down the receiver with a grin, took another sip of coffee, and set out to see how much of the in-basket work he could get done before Jerome Mackey came in for yet another visit.

---
"How many times have you been in here to see me this year, Jerome?"

The boy squirmed and jammed his hands into the pockets of worn jeans. "I don' know."

"Five." Michael studied the boy, barely looking at the file open on his desk. "It's only early October, Jerome. We've been in school six weeks and you've already been sent to the office five times."

"I don' care."

"What did you do this time?"

"I don' know."

"Now you're lying to me. No need for that." Michael closed the file, sat back in his chair and considered the boy across his jumbled desk. Abruptly he stood and at the sudden motion the boy flinched back and huddled in the chair. Moving slowly now, Michael came around the desk and opened the door. "C'mon, Jerome."

"Where we goin?" Fear slithered over the boy's lean face.

"Just for a walk, outside. We can talk out there. Okay?"

Hesitant, Jerome stood and darted to the door, keeping out of reach. Michael sighed internally and followed the boy out, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Betty, we're going for a walk. We'll be right out there," Michael nodded toward the front of the school where a walking track curled under the trees, in clear view.

"Yes, sir, Dr. D." Betty smiled sympathetically at the pair, then turned back to her work.

Faint hints of fall were in the morning air, but it was still undeniably Mississippi as the man and boy walked side by side on the walking track. Morning songbirds filled the trees with music and somebody, distantly, had jumped the gun and started a woodfire. It smelled like a hint of Christmas. Michael slid out of his suit jacket and slung it over one shoulder, enjoying being outside on a school day, ever the truant even though he was the principal.

"Why we jus' walkin' aroun'?"

"No reason. It's a nice day, don't you think?"

"Too quiet."

"Oh, I like the quiet. Sometimes during the day I think I'm just gonna pull my hair out from all the racket inside."

Jerome looked up at him in mild surprise. "I thought you like everthing 'bout school."

"Not everything, no."

"You like kids?"

"I do."

"You got any?"

"Not my own. But I have a lot here." Michael waved a hand toward the beige brick building.

"You married?"

"No."

"Got a girlfriend?"

Michael smiled. "No."

That seemed to stymie Jerome and they walked on for a while in increasingly companionable silence.

"Why did you tell Ms. Petty she has a fat ass?" Michael asked, keeping it as light and curious as Jerome's questions.

"I din' do that." Jerome sounded honestly taken aback.

"That's what she reported you for. You told her to get her fat ass out of the way."

"That don' mean she got a fat ass." Jerome stopped walking, looking up at Michael. "Ms. Petty be pretty. She ain't got no fat ass."

"Well, I wondered," Michael said agreeably. "I wouldn't have thought so, either. But you did tell her to get her fat ass out of the way."

"That's jus' ... talkin'. Jus' a way of talkin' funny, Dr. D. It don't mean nothin' real."

"Ahhhh... I see where we have a problem then, Jerome." Michael dropped down to sit on his heels, to be more on a level with the boy. "Because, you see, Ms. Petty didn't understand that. And other people in your class didn't understand that, either. They all thought you were saying a bad thing about Ms. Petty."

Jerome Mackey was not a stupid boy; Michael had known that all along. His times of getting in trouble weren't the usual dumbass kid pranks or mean-spirited hurtful things. He just didn't think, and didn't know. That made him all the more heartbreaking.

"I was jus' bein' funny, Dr. D." Jerome's eyes had gone suspiciously bright.

"Humor's a difficult thing, Jerome," Michael said, speaking to him like an adult. The boy deserved that. "What one person finds funny, another person might find terribly hurtful. Fact is, it's almost always better to avoid attempts at humor in public places. Like classes at school. Save it for when you're with friends. That way you won't hurt people's feelings accidentally. Understand?"

"Yessir, Dr. D."

"Okay, then." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed it lightly, giving him a smile. "If you feel like you just have to be funny at school, come and be funny for me, how 'bout that? I can usually use a laugh."

Jerome gave a little laugh. "You crazy, Dr. D."

"You're not the first to notice it." He stood, smiling, and turned Jerome toward the building. "Shall we go back to the noisy no-humor place?"

"Yessir."

They reached the doors and Michael stepped in front to pull them open, only to hear Jerome mutter, "Yo' fat ass is in the way."

"Brat," he laughed and swatted the boy into the building. "Back to class. Pronto."