Chapter Text
Natalie French really was extraordinarily pretty. It wasn’t the sort of thing that was polite to notice about one’s coworkers, but Giles did, almost from the very moment he saw her. The dark hair, perfectly coiffed and falling just around her shoulders. The elegant, graceful smile. The slender legs revealed by the sort of skirts that seemed to be popular among the teachers of that age, if Jenny Calendar was any indication.
The age, however, was key. Ethically speaking, there certainly wasn’t all that much wrong with it: she was in her late twenties, bold as brass, and she didn’t seem to see him as any kind of authority figure. The thought of her being intimidated by him was positively laughable, particularly considering the way she carried herself around him, but Giles was still acutely aware of the fact that a lady of twenty-nine was hardly going to be looking longingly towards a staid, stuffy gentleman of forty-four. He didn’t like the idea of letting his gaze linger on a woman who might be made uncomfortable by it, and he made a very deliberate effort not to look.
He didn’t notice dark hair, dark eyes, a wicked grin that sent his pulse racing. Didn’t think even once about those gorgeous legs crossed when she pulled herself up to sit impetuously on the library table. Didn’t once dwell on—
Green, Giles realized. Natalie French’s eyes were green.
He shook his head a little, heart pounding, and went back to filing his books. Nothing to think about at all today.