Work Text:
The end of the school day is a concentrated kind of chaos. Students flit about, voices raised, scrambling to collect bags and books and pens as their parents hover nearby offering instructions and prodding them gently along.
She’s only been teaching this particular class for a term so far, but it’s a good batch of kids and she’s enjoying herself for the most part. Teaching second year primary school students isn’t stressful, but it can be tiring for both her and the kids and she thinks they’re both a bit relieved to go home at the end of the day.
Emma stands quietly by her desk, saying hello and sometimes stopping to have conversations with some of the parents. The room is usually mostly cleared out within a half an hour, only a few stragglers remaining.
One of those few is always David.
David stays seated at his desk, headphones settled over his ears, even as the storm moves around him, sometimes reading, but most often, like today, drawing in a battered leather sketchbook with his initials on the front.
Emma prides herself on her professionalism. She’s a good teacher, strict, but kind hearted and she makes it a point to never have favourites. But somehow that doesn’t stop her from having a soft spot for David IJzermans.
David is such a sweet boy, with messy brown hair that curls in every direction, always quiet and polite when he needs to be, but with a boundless excitement and enthusiasm that catches her off guard. He likes art the most, but he tries hard at everything and as a teacher that’s all she can ask for.
It isn’t hard to see the similarities between David and his father. Robbe IJzermans shares David’s doe eyes and fluffy hair, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t have a little crush. Not that she’d ever do anything about it, she’s a professional after all, but can she be blamed for swooning when Robbe comes by to pick David up, always greeting his son with a smile and a tight hug, staying down at eye-level to ask him about his day.
She’s also never worked out if Robbe has a partner, he doesn’t wear a wedding ring, hasn’t mentioned a wife or girlfriend and no one else has ever come to pick David up. Either way it’s really none of her business, but still, she can’t help but wonder.
It’s a little past three forty-five and Robbe still hasn’t arrived, but she’s not concerned, Robbe has told her he comes straight from work so the time he arrives varies.
The last couple of parents trickle out, leaving her and David alone and she feels awkward still standing, so she sits down in her desk chair and starts organising papers. She would talk to David, but he seems in the zone and in the suddenly quiet room she can hear snatches of the music turned up loud in his headphones. It’s too distant for her to be certain, but she thinks it sounds like rock music.
There’s a rapping on the classroom door and Emma looks up, startled.
In the doorway there’s a man leaned casually against the door frame, arms folded. Emma has never seen him before, she’d definitely remember if she had, he has bleach blonde hair and combat boots, he’d be pretty hard to miss.
She falters. “Uh hello? Can I help you?”
The man smiles and it’s a nice smile, but there’s something mischievous in his eyes that makes her nervous. “That depends, do you happen to know a seven year old boy about this tall,”—he holds a hand at waist level—“with brown hair and wearing a Queen t-shirt?”
Her eyes travel over to David, who hasn’t noticed the interruption, music too loud and face buried in his sketchbook.
She turns her gaze back to the man, her lip curled in confusion. “You’re here for David?”
His smile gets wider. “Yeah, it seems that way.”
“Oh, um.” She scrambles for something to say, his whole demeanour is throwing her off and she still has no idea who he even is. She’s definitely never seen him around before and he’s here to pick up David, she needs to work out who he is somehow. Should she go to the main office and call Robbe to ask? “Well, it’s just, normally his father comes to pick him up and I don’t know if I can just release him to you without verifying who you are.”
A peculiar look comes over the man’s face, like he’s fighting the urge to laugh, his mouth twitching up at the corner. He holds up a finger as if to say, ‘one moment’ and then he calls out across the classroom, “Bowie!”
David glances up and then his face breaks out into an expression of unadulterated joy. “Dad!”
He throws his headphones off and tears across the room, throwing himself at the man. The man laughs loudly and swings David up into his arms before pressing a kiss to his cheek and ruffling his hair. “Hey kiddo, sorry I’m late, Papa got caught up at work and called me to come get you.”
David smiles, eyes wide with happiness. “It’s okay, I missed you anyways.”
The man’s voice gets quiet and soft, “I missed you too.”
He notices Emma still staring and steps forward with David still in his arms, sticking out a hand for her to shake. “I’m Sander, Robbe’s partner.”
She takes his hand and shakes out of her stupor, “Oh! I’m so sorry, I haven’t read over David’s list of contacts, I’ve really only been dealing with Robbe.”
Sander waves her off. “It’s fine, I work in the afternoons, so I rarely come get him, not your fault.” He runs a hand through David’s hair again, looking fond. “It’s okay if I take him now?”
“Oh yes, of course!”
Sander sets David down on the ground and lets him go grab his backpack, sketchpad and headphones. He’s back at Sander’s side in under a minute and Sander holds out a hand for David to take. He does, his small fist closing around Sander’s, one of Sander’s silver rings catching in the fluorescent light.
They’re such a sweet sight. Whilst David and Robbe look similar, Sander and David are like complementary opposites, cold and warm tones, a happy contradiction. She desperately wants to see them all together, Robbe and Sander and David, a perfect little family. She hopes they both come in for parent-teacher conferences in a couple of weeks.
“Have a good afternoon.” She offers them both a small wave and a parting smile.
Sander is still focused on his son, but he’s sincere when he replies, “you too.”
And David chirps, “Bye Miss Peeters, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Sander pulls lightly on his hand and they both turn away, setting off for the door, their voices trailing back over their shoulders.
“Dad, can we have croques tonight?”
“Hmm I dunno, Papa wanted pizza.”
“But Papa loves croques!”
“Okay, well, if you can convince him, then sure.”
She watches until they disappear around the corner. She smiles to herself dragging some worksheets that need marking forward and starting to read through.
Then she pauses, her pen stilling in her hand.
Bowie?