New teacher from Russia with love (Sean)

Beautiful blue eyes looked up from beneath long lashes before she slowly lifted her face to see who addressed her. Although the school lighting was atrocious, she'd purposely chosen a chair closest to the natural light from the window.

'Very nice looking for an older man and such clear, vivid eyes. He seems so smoothly relaxed too. Not at all goofy and stupid like men my age.'

She arched a sleek eyebrow and answered in a low pitched, husky voice. Her Russian accent would always give her strongly rolled R's and some trouble with the letters 'V and W,' but it added to her charisma, or at least she liked to think so.

"Hello and good morning." Natasha returned his greeting with a breath taking smile and a flash of dimples. "Da, I'm new here. It's so wery nice to meet you."

The ex model stood smoothly to extend her hand to the man, her Eternity perfume extending out before her as she tried to read his surface emotions. Mild curiosity seemed foremost.

"I am Natasha Andrejovich and I do hope ve can be friends."

She watched him make the coffee, taking in the look of his hands. The hands always gave away someone's personality whether they knew it or not. They were clean, neat and not manicured, with a few writing callouses on the side of his right hand.

'Righty and likes to be clean.' She tucked away the thought for future reference.

The man's hands had seen both paperwork and hard labor, showing he was an honest worker. Tasha's opinion of him rose another notch. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate intellectuals, but her deeply Russian heart valued hard, honest work in herself and others.

There were peculiar wrinkles near the man's eyes that weren't the usual smile or weather lines seen on a face. To ease her staring at him, she smiled again and gestured for him to sit by her as they shared their coffees.

"Have you vorked here long? Vhat do you teach? I teach Russian." Natasha commented.

She looked down for a moment, chuckling over his sexual education comment and to her horror, noticed a faint white baby hand print on her lap. Natasha tried to hide a wince at it, in the never ending battle of raising a young baby. The sleepless nights made her look dreadful, the stain war from constant baby fluids just wouldn't stop, and she knew he'd never fully sleep through the night till he was at least a year old.

Natasha used to think that babies were cute like puppies and kittens, but the reality was much harsher. Sleep deprivation alone took its toll mentally, physically and emotionally. Crappy diaper changes, crying and squalling every night, baby burps (that were always 90% vomit) left stains and gross smells that she wanted to forget forever. Granted there were a few (insane!) individuals who loved motherhood, but Tasha wasn't sure how much more she could take.

With concentrated effort, she refocused her attention on the man as he spoke and his mildly stated sentence shocked her into nervousness.

'Psychiatrist?!' Her heart skipped a beat and she fought the urge to squirm in her chair. 'They can pick your brain apart and they work with crazy people!' She thought anxiously, working to keep her face a mask of pleasant politeness. 'If I don't watch myself carefully, he might think I'm crazy too!' Her mind raced in worry for a long moment before she reined it back in with both hands.

'I am Russian, I am strong, and I refuse to be intimidated by someone who works with crazies.' Tasha's thoughts insisted. She struggled briefly with her emotions, knowing the danger of feeling anything too strongly for too long. Accidental Empathic Projection was the last thing she needed to let loose in front of a shrink! Natasha silently repeated her mantra, careful not to leak even the slightest emotion. Lord only knew what she'd do if she knew he was Telepathic!

Her eyes changed to clear grey and widened at the length of time he'd been at Hammel. That was longer than she'd been alive! She shifted her gaze to her coffee and took a sip as she felt his scrutiny. Natasha kept a hand over the stain on her slacks and flashed her money making smile up at him.

"Thank you for the kind velcome, Dr. Newille." Natasha answered in a calm voice that betrayed none of her nervousness. She assumed that since he was a shrink, he'd have a Doctorate. She gave no thought to her left hand plucking fitfully at Gabe's baby print. When he turned around to get his coffee, she barely stopped herself from sighing in relief. Tasha would have to be very careful around him.

"Really?" She remarked with interest, crossing one long leg over the other. Natasha could only imagine that if -she- was nervous about him, a recalcitrant student would be terrified into obedience! It was good to know there was a back up disciplinarian if necessary.

"I vill definitely keep that in mind Doctor."

She shifted a file neatly into the folder, closed it and returned it to her briefcase with a swift and graceful motion. Tasha knew he studied her and she not only didn't mind, but welcomed it. As an ex model, she was used to people staring at her and it was a familiar comfort. Never one to enjoy being alone, she still liked Sean's company, psychiatrist or not.

Sean's question suited her to the ground, as it would any mother, so she exhaled and relaxed a bit. She smiled as she took another sip of the finely made coffee before setting it back down again.

"Teenage children, niet, but I have a nine and a half month old son that keeps me wery busy. I have to vonder if they vill be harder or easier to deal vith than a baby or not." She paused and pondered it for a long moment. It was probably best to ask him and find out.

"If you don't mind my asking, do you have any children Dr. Newille? Vhat is it like to be vith teenagers all day, every day, here at Hammel?"

"His name is Gabriel because he looked like an angel from the moment I first saw him."

She stated proudly, feeling an unexpectedly strong maternal pride in her son. While she wasn't the kind to take joy in any child rearing, she did see having him as an accomplishment. Women undergo a vast psychological difference after giving birth.

The sense of new found strength that one could have after feeling that much pain for so long and bringing it forth is unmatched by any other accomplishment. Confidence is naturally boosted by the empowerment and immensity of the moment. Her innate emotional status raised her above women who hadn't yet experienced what it was to bring a baby into the world.

Tasha noted his smile of fondness and felt his keen interest and longing to have a child of his own. She wasn't sure if it was the typical mystery that some men felt or if it was a goal for himself to raise one.

Her answering smile was that of a satisfied mother and she offered up,

"You can have vun for yourself if you like. If you can't have vun the regular vay, there's alvays adoption too. Or you could consider fostering. I am told there are hundreds of children who vish for a family even if only in temporary fostering."

She watched Sean's face as he spoke of the students and it reassured her if only a little, that the teaching would go well. Natasha nodded and replied,

"I vant to teach that Russian is more than just a language--it's an entire social culture that's a whole different vay of thinking. I've planned many things to show that it's more than memorizing an alvabedt or umlauts."

She was eager as most new teachers were and Tasha was no exception. For all her maturity, she was still only twenty in the vast scope of things. Her optimism showed in her tone and posture, that she was very interested in her new career.

"I am hoping that teens vill be more mature than trying to teach young children, and vill vant more intensive lessons."

The young blonde took another sip of the coffee and listened as the psychiatrist spoke. His voice was nicely pitched and so evenly modulated that, despite her misgivings at his profession, she relaxed without even consciously knowing. Natasha didn't realize it, but she found Sean someone who was very easy to talk with.

"Da, hormones can be a problem at any age can't they?" She laughed and continued,

"I think ve all are prey to these urges at some point or another. Although, I did hear of students vith pheromone manipulation--is this a common gift here? I can't imagine vhat that sort of person could do to an entire classroom of students."