Scotchguarded at Birth Scotchguarded at Birth by Bento Author's website: http://fly.to/Bento Disclaimer: Author's Notes: This is my first story (archived or otherwise), so please be gentle. ;) Constructive criticism is welcome. Story Notes: No spoilers, but there are references to eps and a slight nod at another fanfic piece – "First Sweat." Title: Scotchguarded at Birth Rating: G Pairings: None Spoilers: None, but there are references to eps and a slight nod at another fanfic piece - "First Sweat". General Concept: What was Fraser like as a kid? The second grade classroom was abuzz with activity. It was art day - the children's favorite day of the week - and each one was happily working away at an easel. Their assignment was to paint something that is important or special to them. As the teacher walked around the room she stopped to look at each work as it progressed. One child was doing an image of his hunting gear - bola, spear, snares, etc; another was painting her family during a holiday celebration. When the teacher passed a child diligently painting a picture of his family's newly acquired television set, she almost chuckled out loud. During her stroll through the classroom, she finally approached the new boy. He was a temporary student and would likely be leaving in a month or so - whenever his grandparents decided it was time to relocate their library. The woman bent over so that she was face to face with the child and said "Benton..." "Yes, ma'am?" "Is this your pet dog?" "Oh, no ma'am. It's a wolf. He's my spirit guide", the youth responded excitedly. "Aaahh..." the teacher began, "Well, it's just lovely, dear. Very realistic, but why are you sketching him? You're supposed to be painting." "It's the five P's, ma'am" he replied, turning towards her. Upon seeing the puzzled look on her face, Ben proceeded to explain - "The five P's: Proper Preparation Prevents Poor Performance. By lightly sketching an outline before applying any paint, the possibility of making an irreparable mistake is significantly reduced." He smiled brightly and turned back to his artwork. The teacher slowly stood back up and, patting Ben on the head, said "That's...very good, Benton." No doubt that that boy is being raised by librarians she thought to herself as she walked back to her desk. At 12:30, the teacher arose and told the children it was time to put their supplies away and clean up for lunch. One by one the youngsters passed the big desk on their way to the art cabinet. The teacher smiled as she noticed the paint all over the kids. *Happens every week,* she thought, Thank goodness for smocks. When Benton approached the cabinet she stopped him. "Benton," she spoke in a surprised tone. "Yes, ma'am?" She looked the boy up and down. He was spotless! Not a drop of paint was on his smock, shoes, hands, face...ANYWHERE! "How did you do that?" she asked. "Do what, ma'am?" "Stay so clean. There's not a speck of paint on you." The child looked down at himself and then back at his teacher. "I don't know, ma'am" he responded thoughtfully, "I've always been this way." End Scotchguarded at Birth by Bento: rivieralcv705@yahoo.com Author and story notes above.