New teacher from Russia with love (Sean)

[deedogma]

The long, lean blonde slowly undid each finger in her tan leather driving gloves, mumbling in Russian. She didn't bother with a coat today because anything over 40 (4C) was balmy enough for the Russian born woman.

Natasha placed a sleek sienna briefcase on the table next to her non-fat, decaf, double tall Cappuccino. Granted, she was a bit nerved up for her first day of teaching in a foreign country, but she was ready for the challenge.

Now that she had a babysitter for Gabe and bought herself a quaint little house, it was important for her to settle into her new job. She couldn't let Jack become a total obsession or that would be weak of her.

She stood and walked over to a window to open it, taking out a cigarette. A breeze came through the screen, fanning back her long golden hair and she smiled beautifully. A dimple winked at the corner of her lush pink mouth before she took in another drag.

Natasha picked off a bit of lint from her expensive navy slacks and shifted in her azure louboutin heels. Vermont was gorgeous and reminded her of beloved Mother Russia in summer. The temperature was balmy, the snow hardly fell and she rarely needed a coat.

Her cerulean blue eyes narrowed at the no smoking sign and for a brief moment, considered putting out the cigarette right on it. She checked her impulse carefully, opened the screen just a bit and tossed out the butt.

Immediately she washed her hands at the sink, to rid them of the smoking stink. It wasn't easy to be a smoker and loathe the smell of it.

Forcing herself to relax, she moved back to the chair and took a long sip of her Cappuccino to calm herself. She'd memorized her files last night, in her eagerness to do well at this new job. Being so young here worked against her instead of for her as it would in Russia.

She flipped open the file and pretended to scan it, but she suddenly felt strong emotions approaching from a few different directions. Remembering her breathing and training exercises, Tasha focused on her own heartbeat so that strangers feelings wouldn't impinge on her own self acknowledgement.

"U menya vsyo khorosho, I am fine." She repeated her mantra quietly. It wouldn't do to be out of control when meeting new people.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The weather outside was warm for Vermont in winter, although colder than Sean’s knees preferred. He compensated for the temperature by dressing in layers, and ingesting a steady stream of hot beverages. Coffee was at the top of his list this morning, and, as soon as he finished with his first appointment, he made a Beeline for the staff lounge.

Before entering, he sensed the presence of someone he did not recognize. Opening the door, he was confronted with a young woman who was, indeed, new to Hammel. Hunched over a file, seemingly reading. Seemingly.

Telepathy allowed him to see through appearance.

“Hello,” he greeted her with a friendly smile. He didn’t want to interrupt her, particularly since she seemed a bit out of sorts. At the same time, he wouldn’t ignore her. He was a friendly, welcoming individual and he wanted her to be comfortable.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” He asked, to initiate conversation. She could respond to him and then return to what she was doing, or they could have a full conversation.

While he waited for a response, he crossed the room to the coffee pot. There was a bit left, enough for a cup, and so he poured for himself. He then immediately went about brewing the next pot, since it was important to keep it filled at all times.

[deedogma]

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.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“It’s nice to meet you too, Natasha,” the telepath said with a smile. He turned to face her, taking the offered hand in his far larger one. His handshake was firm without being too strong or aggressive. “My name is Sean Neville.”

He then shook his head to dispel her of the notion that he was a teacher. “I don’t teach anything. Unless you count sexual education.” That remark was coupled with a smile; every teacher heard about the seminar sooner or later. Fortunately, she wouldn’t find herself involved in that for seven months, if at all.

“I’m the school psychiatrist,” he explained, taking the time to study her. She was quite young, and obviously a Russian native. Young enough that she might have actually been born after the dissolution of the Soviet Union such that she was born in Russia proper. If not, she looked to be on the cusp.

“I’ve been here for about twenty-two years,” he added, his expression changing to one of brief contemplation as he calculated his start date. “Welcome to our family.”

With the coffee brewing, he picked up his freshly filled mug and began to stir in two sugars. Then he added sufficient creamer such that his coffee’s color changed to that of caramel. It smelled sweet enough, and he took a sip.

[deedogma]

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.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“Yes,” Sean confirmed with a nod. “And I have a few other eclectic duties including doling out discipline if any of your students misbehave in class.” That was coupled with a soft smile of reassurance. “Send them to my office if they misbehave, and I’ll take care of it for you. It tends to be a more streamlined process this way.”

The students didn’t have to worry about personality clashes with the teachers, and vice versa.

He brought his coffee over to one of the chairs, settling down to become comfortable for a few minutes.

Since little would be accomplished by discussing the specifics of his job with her, even if the goal was to dispel her misconceptions, the telepath chose to focus on another matter entirely. He’d overheard her thoughts about her baby, and he had also noticed the handprint, and that would prove a worthy topic. “Are you around children often?”

The question implied a lack of knowledge that wasn’t entirely accurate, but he did so for her comfort, since it was apparent that disclosing his telepathy would only prove distressing at this time. In addition, it would allow them to have a more natural discussion than beginning in the middle, where his knowledge actually began.

She would learn about his powers soon enough, but there was no reason to make a production of that now.

[deedogma]

"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?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean smiled when she mentioned her baby, since that now made him a fair topic of discussion. The telepath did so love children, and he was happy to discuss other people’s families for as long as those people were willing to engage him. “And what is your son’s name?”

He knew, of course, but he was trying to ease her into discussion and maintain her comfort zone. Besides, Sean was long-used to the fact that part of being a telepath was asking questions to which he already knew the answer.

“You’ll get used to the students. Especially since Russian is a self-selecting class, you should mostly have interested students.” Which made her life easier than, for instance, Morgan’s who taught a general education requirement, or that of the trainers who had to confront powers directly.

At her question, he shook his head, and a rueful smile touched his lips. “I don’t; I haven’t been that fortunate.” The psychiatrist would have loved to have children of his own, either biological or adopted, but his life had worked out in such a way that hadn’t allowed for that. He and Josh discussed foster children and adoption, but it had been over a year since their initial discussion and little had changed on that front.

Then he heaved an exaggerated sigh and the smile became more genuine. “But the students keep me busy.” He sought out her gaze to explained further, “Most of them are well-behaved, and to that end, it’s like any other high school. The students need to learn, some of them act out, but most of them want to get through this to the next stage of life. Hormones and social pressures allowing.”

[deedogma]

"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."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean smiled, despite the associations that he had with that particular name. There were thousands of people named Gabriel and only one of them had come from a nightmare; everyone else was innocent. Her young son was innocent. “That’s a lovely name,” he remarked, before taking another sip from his mug. It was strong, dignified...biblical.

The telepath then chuckled lightly. “You might not realize it, but you’ve just paid me a large compliment.” Implied in the suggestion that he could easily have a child, either through natural conception or through adoptive avenues, was the idea that he was younger than he was.

“But I have looked into fostering before,” he continued, turning the conversation back to more serious matters. He had considered fostering long before he and Josh had reconciled, and the folder of information remained in his study. It was an ongoing project, and he hoped that Josh and he would be able to get the ball rolling eventually. Before they were both too old.

“Not that my opinion counts for much, since I’m not a teacher, but I think that’s the best way to teach languages,” he remarked. The cultural component went a long way in allowing students to connect with, and truly understand, the language. Moreover, Russia had a long and interesting history; there was much to teach.

“We all are, at some point, but it’s rather pronounced at this age. For better and for worse.” Adolescents felt so intently, and so many of his sessions revolved around those concerns.

At the question regarding powers, he became momentarily thoughtful. “I wouldn’t say it’s common, but it isn’t unheard of. The most common powers tend to involve shapeshifting or some elemental abilities, at least with our current students. But we’ve had our fair share of pheromone manipulators, and life can get interesting.”

That was the inherent risk with teenagers and superpowers.