Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hi, I’m sorry, is this your stuff?”

Kate turned her head, a red pen in her hand, and looked towards the voice. A man stood there - perhaps twenty years her junior - tall, broad shouldered, with dark hair and a soft stubble on his jaw. He smiled kindly.

Her eyes flickered to the items he was referring to: a disordered pile of papers, an open biology book displaying the human skeleton, sticky notes scattered around like confetti, and a half-drunk mug of coffee, most likely cold by now. Then she looked at the man again. He was carrying a box, full of personal stuff and books. And then, it clicked.

“Yes, sorry, of course,” she said hastily, gathering up the clutter from his side of the desk beside her, bundling it up to make space. She’d had the whole desk to herself for quite some time and had definitely used that to her advantage.

The man set his box down in the cleared space and offered a grateful smile. “You’re a new teacher then?” she asked, attempting to bring some order to the chaos on her desk. The space was far too small for all the books and paper she was juggling. Her closed laptop had all but vanished beneath half-marked exams, and the photo of her father in the corner had a post-it stuck to its frame.

“That’s right. I’m Christofer Ibrahim. Most call me Chris, though.” He said warmly, extending a hand . She took it with a smile and gave it a brief shake. His hand was large, strong and rather warm, she noticed.

“I’m Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. Head of the Science Department. I teach Biology.”

She studied him for a moment before speaking again. He looked athletic, strong.

“You look like you teach PE.” She commented.

He let out an amused sound and glanced sideways at her as he began to unpack. “Why? Cause I have muscles?” He asked, lips quirking upwards. “I do have something in my brain as well.”

Her eyes widened slightly, cheeks tinged pink. She shook her head quickly.

“No, I didn’t mean…it came out sounding rather superficial,” she admitted, sighing, “I’m sorry.”

“It's alright. I was just messing with you.” he replied gently, settling into his seat. His box now emptied, he folded it with practice and slid under the desk.

He didn’t have much on his desk. Not yet, at least. But it always started that way. In time, it would fill up. His laptop sat neatly to one side, accompanied by a modest stack of three books and a dictionary. A small pink pen holder, brimming with colourful pencils and markers stood next to some post-its, a few folders and a tiny cactus in a cheerful yellow pot. The whole set up was tidy, minimalist - charmingly organised, especially compared to her own desk’s disarray.

She leaned a little to get a better look at the books. The dictionary was French so with the titles of the others, her eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, you teach French?” She asked excitedly, turning to him.

Her enthusiasm caught him slightly off guard, but he found it endearing. He nodded.

“Oui, j’enseigne le français,” he said smoothly, which made her smile widen.

“I love French. I took it in school but to be honest, I’ve forgotten most of it.”

He smiled at her. She seemed warm. Kind. A good person to share a workspace with, he thought. Kate turned her attention back to the papers in front of her, but her eyes only skimmed the words. The red pen hovered above a half-marked exam, then slowly came to rest on the desk. For a moment, she just sat there, letting the murmur of the staff room and the soft scratch of Chris’s organising fill the silence between them.

She glanced sideways. He was arranging his pens by colour, his fingers quick and precise, movements deliberate. Historical as someone who paid attention to the little things, someone who didn’t let disorder creep in. The contrast of her own cluttered chaos was almost laughable. She straightened a sack of papers in response, suddenly self-conscious.

A faint trace of aftershave drifted over. Subtle, clean. Not overpowering like some of the younger teachers seem to prefer. something about it reminded her of winter mornings - sharp and clear, with just enough warmth beneath to suggest comfort rather than cold. She didn’t look at him directly, but noticed the way his brow furrowed as he read a document, lips moving faintly with the words. Focused. She liked that.

Her eyes wandered to the cactus. A small thing, round and unassuming. But bright, cheerful even. Yellow pot, pink pen holder. Unexpected choices, not what she’d have guessed for someone with his kind of build. She had expected blacks, dark blues, professional, masculine. Instead, his desk look like it belonged to someone who didn’t mind a bit of softness, someone unafraid of colour. It softened him.

She picked up her coffee and sip. Cold. Of course. She didn’t grimace, but she set it down carefully , aware of the faint bitterness coating her tongue. She could feel him glance over just for a second, and then back to his things.

A strange comfort settled in. It wasn't quite camaraderie - not yet. But there was something oddly satisfying about having someone there again. Someone new, someone quietly interesting. Her pen touched paper again. She started marking, the corners of her lips still lifted in a small involuntary smile.

“Would you like a new coffee?” He asked after a few quiet moments, clearly having noticed that hers had long gone cold.

She looked up, caught off guard by the offer. His tone was casual, but the gesture felt unexpectedly thoughtful. A small smile tugged at her lips as she nodded.

“That would be very nice. Thank you.” She said warmly.

Without another word, he stood and picked up her mug, cradling it in one hand as he made his way across the staff room. Her eyes followed him as he moved - confident, unhurried - towards the small kitchenette tucked away in the far corner, just beside the window.

It wasn’t much of a kitchen - more a glorified cupboard, really. A kettle, a questionable fridge that always seemed to have expired yoghurts and half eaten lunches in it, and a cabinet full of mismatched mugs and teabags in old boxes. No one really knew where they came from. Teachers weren’t much better than students when it came to cleaning up after themselves. Still, the presence of coffee, tea and hot water made it bearable. Thank God for small mercies.

She turned her attention back to the exam paper in front of her, eyes scanning the final page. The answers were…average. A few promising bits, but mostly a tangle of half form thoughts and uncertain terminology. She sighed softly, underlining a vague sentence in red ink.

Just then, a warm scent drifted up towards her nose. Coffee, fresh and comforting. A moment later a full, steaming mug was gently sat down in front of her. She glanced up. Chris was smiling again, easy and unassuming, before sliding back into his seat without a word.

“Thanks.” she murmured, her fingers wrapping gratefully around the mug. The warmth seeped into her skin almost immediately, grounding her, calming her. She took a slow sip, the taste strong and familiar.

He’d made it just the way she liked it. Somehow, he’d known. Or maybe just guessed well. Either way, it felt like a small kindness in the middle of an ordinary day.

She finished marking the exam. A C minus. And that was with a generous stretch. With a quiet sigh, she signed the bottom of the page and sat her pen down, just as the school bell rang out, sharp and insistent.

Startled, she glanced at her watch and realised she completely lost track of time. With barely a pause, she downed the rest of her now lukewarm coffee in one swift gulp and began gathering her things in a hurry.

“I need to get to class.” She said, glancing over at Chris. He hadn’t asked.

She rifled through the disorder stacks on her desk, brushing aside papers and post-its until she found the book she needed. Clashing it under one arm, she turned to him with a quick but sincere smile.

“Welcome to the staff.” She said, her tone warm and genuine.

Then she was gone, her was clicking against the floor as she moved quickly through the room, already halfway in teaching mode.

Chris watched her go, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. It was a good start.

Chapter Text

A few days had passed, and Chrisofer was beginning to feel more and more settled. His classes had gone well, his younger students were still eager to learn French, and though his older ones were less eager, they were no less pleasant. He enjoyed chatting with Kate during short breaks or before class, but he’d also started talking to a few other teachers.

Melanie Bush, who taught art, stood out with her bubbly personality and seemingly never ending kindness. She was a delight to be around.

Donna Noble sat at the desk across from him. Like Melanie, she had fiery red hair, and she possessed a wicked sense of humour that often made Chris chuckle. She taught English, though he wasn’t sure that really fit. Still, she was friendly, and the students clearly liked her.

“You know, Rose said she likes you.” Donna remarked one afternoon, her words slightly muffled by the Pringle she was chewing.

Christofer raised an eyebrow, amused. “Rose?”

”Her daughter.” Kate supplied from nearby, not looking up from her laptop as she typed out an email. She was only half listening.

Christofer’s mind raced for a moment before it clicked. “Ah, Rose Noble. I hadn’t made that connection.” Donna chuckled and gave a casual shrug.

”She’s a good kid.” Chris said, smiling. Rose wasn’t the strongest in French, but she put in the effort and was always kind, to everyone. From what Mel had said, her real talent lay in art.

”She is,” Donna agreed, licking salt from her fingers before wiping them off on her jeans. “Bit of a dreamer, that one. Head in the clouds, heart in the sketchbook.” Chris smiled softly at that. His eyes flickered to Kate as she hit send on her email and closed the laptop with a quiet sigh. She stretched a bit, she looked tired, in that way people did when they’d been running on coffee and paperwork for too many years. Still, there was a calm about her, a steadiness he was quickly beginning to recognise as part of her default setting.

”Busy day?” He asked gently.

She gave him a look that said isn’t it always? but nodded. “Year Elevens are doing revision. That means half of them are panicking and the other half think they know everything. I spend most of my time either calming them down or humbling them. Exhausting work.”

Donna laughed. “And you love it.”

”I do.” Kate admitted, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Chris chuckled. A brief silence settled, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable, just companionable. Outside, the wind stirred the leaves on the old tree by the window. Somewhere in the corridor, a distant shout of laughter echoed.

Then Melanie breezed in, her hair in a loose braid, paint smudged faintly on her left cheek. She was balancing a stack of paintings and a tin of biscuits.

”I come bearing gifts.” She sat happily. Setting the tin down on the desk. “Please tell me someone here likes shortbread.”

”I like anything free.” Donna said, already reaching for the tin.

Kate shook her head, amused. “You spoil us, Mel.”

”Better than the vending machines.” The redhead replied cheerfully. She pushed the tin over to Chris, who gratefully accepted a biscuit. “You settling in okay?” She asked him.

“I think so,” he said, taking a biscuit. “Everyone’s been really welcoming.” Mel smiled at him and took a seat beside Donna, who was happily munching on a shortbread.

Kate was quiet again, sipping her coffee, her gaze drifting towards the window. Chris watched her for a moment. Something about her expression made him wonder what she was thinking, she seemed to be elsewhere with her thoughts.

The moment was broken when soft laughter and clatter from the lockers came from the corridor. The students were changing classes. Chris stood up, gathering his things. “Wish me luck. Year ten next. We’re doing irregular verbs.”

”Oof,” Donna said, mock grimacing. “May the odds be ever in your favour, soldier.”

He chuckled and gave them a mock salute before stepping out into the corridor, the loud sounds of the school life around him. His concentration was immediately pulled towards two students fighting. “Hey, Jason! No need to hit James.” He called and immediately he was back in teacher mode.

His class had just ended, and Christofer stepped into the staff room with a handful of tests in one arm. He barely had time to set them down on his desk before Kate's voice rang out.

“You! Good, you can help me.” She said, pointing at him with an air of brisk authority.

He looked up, slightly surprised, then grinned and gave a playful salute. “Yes, Ma'am."

She shot him a quick glance and rolled her eyes but didn’t dignify him with an answer. “Help me carry these boxes to the Biology Room.” She said, nodding toward a small, not very stable looking, tower of boxes on her already cluttered desk.

He eyed them suspiciously. “What’s in them?” He asked, though he was already picking up the top two boxes without argument.

”Skulls.” She replied dryly and walked past him with the rest of the boxes. He blinked, slightly thrown. “Oh, of course. Skulls.” He muttered sarcastically and hurried after her, falling into step beside her.

Kate moved quickly, navigating the corridor with familiar ease and that same confident stride he was beginning to associate with her. The journey to the labs wasn’t very long, only down a flight of stairs and all the way to the end of the corridor. Room 01 034. He tried to remember that, if he ever wanted to find her.

At the lab door, she paused, shifting one of the boxes onto her hip to free a hand. With practiced efficiency, she unlocked the door and held it open for him. Chris stepped past her and inside.

”Just set them down by the desk.” She instructed, and he gave a quick nod, following her direction.

He placed the boxes where she'd indicated, then straightened and let his gaze wander around the room. He hadn’t been inside the labs before, he’d had no reason to, but now that he was here, he took a moment to look around.

The space was tiled all around, and even he could tell why: safer in case of a fire or spills of any sort. The tiles made the room feel sterile, though, cool, even colder than the corridor he’d just come from. Probably a blessing in the warmer months, he mused.

A massive periodic table dominated the left wall, while the right was a collage of educational posters. Eagles, the human nervous system and an ominous chart on the effects of the atomic bomb.

Behind him, he heard the sound of boxes being shifted. He turned to find Kate setting hers down as well. He leaned casually against one of the tall lab tables, crossing his ankles, watching her move. She belonged here, he thought. In this space. The confidence, the efficiency - it all seemed to crystallise here, in a room filled with diagrams and danger and the quiet hum of knowledge, waiting to be unpacked.

He didn’t say anything, not yet. But something about the moment settled into him like warmth spreading through his chest. He didn’t know why. Not yet. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

Kate straightened, brushing a bit of dust from her hands as she surveyed the boxes. Satisfied, she turned to face him, one eyebrow slightly raised when she saw him lounging against the table, watching her.

“What?” She asked, not unkindly.

Chris shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “Just trying to imagine the kind of class where you need a box full of skulls.”

She smirked, the corner of her mouth lifting. “You’d be surprised. Year Tens start their unit on the skeletal system next week. If I don’t bring out the skulls, they'll complain I’m boring.”

He chuckled. “Hard to picture you as boring.”

She gave him a look - half amused, half warning - and walked past him to the cupboards at the back of the lab, pulling open the doors with a soft creak. Rows of neatly labelled containers lined the shelves. For someone who lived in chaos at her desk, she kept her lab materials alarmingly organised. It made sense, he supposed. There was something quietly meticulous beneath her briskness, a kind of care she didn’t always advertise.

Chris watched for another moment, then pushed off the table and came to stand beside her. “Need help unpacking?”

She glanced at him, a little surprised, but nodded. “Sure. If you don’t mind touching the dead.” She smirked softly.

He grinned. “I’ll try not to lose my head over it.” She groaned, but he caught the hint of a smile before she turned away.

For a few quiet minutes they unpacked side-by-side, falling into a surprisingly easy rhythm. Chris tried to mimic the way she arranged the skulls - each one set with care on the shelves, facing forward. As they worked, Kate spoke in that calm, unhurried voice she used when teaching, pointing out subtle details: the curvature of a brow ridge, the wear on molars, the telltale signs that hinted at age, time period, even lifestyle.

He found himself genuinely interested, far more than he ever had been in biology classes as a student. Maybe it was the way she spoke, or the way her eyes lit up just slightly when she explained something. There was something about her presence that made even the dry bones feel alive with stories.

”How long have you worked here?” he asked after a while, handing her another skull.

She didn’t answer right away, her brows furrowed slightly as she did the maths. “Twenty-eight years.” She said at last, with a note of quiet surprise in her voice, as though the number still startled her too.

”Wow,” Chris said, clearly impressed. He did his own quick calculation, then chuckled. “I was in year seven when you started working here.”

Kate grimaced, giving him a sidelong glance. “You’re making me feel awfully old.” He smiled, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just… that’s a lot of years to do something and still talk about it like you care.”

She paused at that, fingers resting lightly on the lid of the final box. Her expression softened - not quite a smile, but something close. “Well,” she said, “I suppose if you stop caring, you stop teaching.”

“I always feared that,” he sat quietly, almost as if to himself. “That I’d stop loving it one day.” The words hung there for a beat, delicate and honest. Then he smiled, soft and sincere. “But when I teach… I can’t imagine ever not loving that.”

Kate looked at him, really looked. There was something unguarded in his face - and openness, she hadn't expected. She leaned back slightly against the edge of the desk, her arms folding loosely. “That fear never really goes away.” She said gently. “Some days are harder. Some years feel longer than they should. But then a student asks the right question, or gets something they never thought they would, and just like that - it’s worth it again.”

Her voice was low, thoughtful, but steady. She glanced down at one of the skulls in her hands and then back at him, a faint smile playing at her lips. “If you feel that way, like it’s worth it. Every long day. Every argument with a parent. Every failed attempt to print something. Even thrice in a row. If you feel like that’s all worth it, then you’re in the right place.”

A few days had passed, since they unpacked the skulls in the lab, when Kate found Chris emerging from the girls loo, which she found rather odd. Curiously, she approached him, and the sheer relief on his face when he spotted her was quietly endearing.

”What are you doing here?” She asked.

”It’s Lisa,” he explained, his voice tinged with helplessness. “She’s in my French class. She went to the loo and never came back. I went looking for her… but she doesn’t want to talk to me. I think she’s got her period for the first time. She’s crying.”

Understanding softened Kate's expression and she nodded. “Alright, that’s something I can handle.” Without hesitation, she walked past him and into the loo. Chris followed but paused just inside the door, staying close but giving her space.

”Lisa, sweetheart?” Kate called gently, moving towards the stall where she heard quite sniffing. She knocked softly. “It’s Ms Stewart. Would you like me to come in, so you can tell me what’s wrong?”

For a moment there was silence, then the lock clicked. Nothing was said, but it was a silent invitation. Kate carefully opened the door and crouched down, meeting the eyes of the girl sitting on the toilet seat, cheeks flushed and eyes puffy from crying. Her legs were pulled up, hugged by pale arms.

”What’s happened, love?” She asked softly. Lisa looked up at her, watery-eyed, swallowing hard. “I… I got my period.” She mumbled, voice barely above a whisper, clearly embarrassed.

Kate nodded gently. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, darling. It’s perfectly natural for a girl to get her period.” The girl hesitated, brushing a tear away. “But I stained my trousers in PE class… and the boys saw. They teased me.”

Kate’s heart tightened. “Well, those boys are quite immature then.”

“Do you have a pad you can use?” Kate asked. Lisa shook her head.

“That’s alright. We keep them well stocked here.” Kate said, standing to retrieve one from a small basket by the sink. Chris watched in quiet admiration. She handled the situation with such calm assurance and gentle kindness. So vastly different from his helplessness. “Here you go.” Kate said, handing the pad to Lisa and crouching down once more. “Do you know how to use it?” Lisa nodded slowly.

“My dad told me - I just have to stick it in my knickers, right?” Kate smiled softly and gave the girl's knee a reassuring squeeze. “That’s right. Why don’t you pop it in first, and then we’ll sort out the rest?”

Lisa nodded, a flicker of relief crossing her face. Kate stood, as the door closed again, giving Chris a brief glance that said, See? Not so difficult.

Chris smiled at Kate - softer, more tender than usual. He wasn’t quite sure why, but watching her had stirred something unexpected within him. ”You’re so good with her.” he admitted quietly. “I felt completely helpless.”

Kate simply waved his words aside with a small smile. “She didn’t want to talk to you - that’s hardly your fault. Sometimes, a girl just needs a woman.”

While Lisa finished, they stood in comfortable silence. They got along well, every quiet moment throughout the school day building up the relationship between them. And slowly, it felt like more than simply working together and that thought stayed with him.

Chapter Text

"Morning," he mumbled as he stepped into the printer room and spotted Kate. She turned, a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and offered him a smile that suggested she was already in a far better mood than he was - likely thanks to a cup of coffee.

"You look tired." She noted, eyeing him with mild curiosity. Maybe a hint of concern.

"Haven't had my coffee yet." He replied with a dismissive wave.

"Ah, that explains it." She said with a knowing nod before turning back to the printer.

Chris moved to the second machine and placed a worksheet on the scanner. For a moment, the room was filled with the rhythmic hum if machinery - paper sliding in, paper sliding out, warm and inked. Then Kate spoke again.

"Actually, I meant to ask you something." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Josh called in sick for the week. He was meant to come on a field trip with me tomorrow."

She shrugged lightly, her tone casual, perhaps too casual. "I need a substitute. Thought you might like to come?"

Chris looked at her for a beat. There was something in her voice - an effort to sound offhand - that made him suspect she cared more than she let on. He gave a small nod.

"I'd like that. Where are you going?"

"To the National Museum," she said, turning back to collect the pages. "They've got an exhibition on Dinosaurs. I go every year. The little ones love it."

He smiled, watching the way her face softened as she spoke. She clearly loved what she did, and it showed in every word.

"That sounds great. Count me in."

She smiled again, grateful, certainly, but perhaps also quietly pleased that it wasn't just anyone who had agreed, but him.

Chris tucked the freshly printed worksheets into a plastic folder, and cast another glance at Kate, who was still organising her own pile of papers. There was something unspoken in her expression, a quiet satisfaction at his answer, and though she didn't say anything more about it, the air between them felt subtly changed.

They left the printer room together, the morning of the school coming back into focus as they stepped into the corridor. Students darted past, the clatter of lockers being opened and slammed shut echoing off the walls. Somewhere down the hall, someone was shouting about forgotten homework.

"So, what time are we leaving tomorrow?" He asked, breaking the quiet between them. She sidestepped a pair of boys chasing each other rather enthusiastically.

"The coach is booked for 9 o'clock. We should be back by three." Kate replied adjusting the bag in her shoulder, so it won't slip down.

"It's Year 7s, then?" He asked and glanced at her. She nodded, smiling a little. "They're a lively bunch, all very good kids. But it'll be chaos."

He chuckled amused, yes. But also fondly. "Undoubtedly. But they respect you. It'll keep them in line." She tilted her head a bit in thought, then hesitantly. "You think so?"

"Of course. The kids love you. You're a great teacher, Kate." There was so much conviction in his voice, though he had never seen her teach. It touched her and made her heart feel so full she thought it would press against her ribs.

They arrived at the staff room and the moment stretched just a bit too long, comfortable but edged with a hint of something else, something uncertain. Chris looked down at his bolder and busied himself with adjusting a slightly crumpled corner as they awkwardly stood in from of the staff room.

"Right," Kate said at last, straightening. "I've got a meeting with the head in ten. Class immediately after. Better get going."

"Good luck." He called after her as she walked away heels clicking on the floor as usual. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him, then she was gone behind students running around. For a moment he just stood there, still looking into the direction she had left in. Then he headed to class himself, the lingering hint of her smile still warming the back if his mind.

The next morning arrived with a slate-grey sky and the kind of steady drizzle that made everyone walk a little faster. Chris met Kate just outside the school where the bus was parked. A group of students was already gathered nearby, some still yawning, some buzzing with excitement and talking.

Kate was already there, of course, clipboard in hand and checking attendance. She was wearing a long, dark green raincoat, her hair half pulled back, a few loose strands framing her face. She looked up as he approached and offered a quick smile.

"You look better. Had a coffee?" She smiled, slightly amused. But it was true. He looked much more awake than yesterday. He nodded.

"Learned from my mistakes." He replied with a grin. She looked at him for a moment longer and then turned towards the group of kids.

"Alright, everyone." Kate called out, her voice rising just enough to command attention without sounding sharp. "Line up, please. No pushing. Mr. Ibrahim will do a head count before getting on the bus." Chris nodded, standing next to the open bus door. The kids obeyed, with little chaos, and he counted them as they eagerly stepped into the bus and found seats with their friends.

The bus ride was exactly what he had expected. Loud, slightly chaotic and full of restless energy. He was sat across the aisle from Kate, and every, so often they'd catch each other's eye and share a quiet look, a mic of fond exasperation and amusement. She wordlessly passed him a biscuit at one point. One of the good, expensive shortbreads with butter fudge pieces. A little girl, quiet and shy that sat right next to Kate eyes them and then looked up at Kate hesitantly.

"Miss?" She asked timidly. Kate turned to look at her, a soft smile on her lips. "What is it, Poppy?"

"Can I have one of those?" She asked and pointed at the box of biscuits in Kate's lap. "My mum always had those in her office." A sudden sadness filled the small girls eyes, too big for such a young person. Kate's heart tightened.

"Of course, here." She said softly and pushed the box in Poppy's direction. The little girl smiled happily and took one, contently taking a bite. Chris raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

"Her mum died a few months back." Kate whispered, so only Chris would hear. "She's been glued to my side ever since then." There was a softness in Kate's voice that she couldn't quite hide. Even if she tried. She absentmindedly brushed some of the girl's hair out of her face as it threatened to wander into her mouth with the next bite. Chris was suddenly struck with the thought that Kate would probably be a great mother. Maybe she even was. He'd never asked if she had kids. She quickly pushed that thought away. It had no business in his mind.

When they arrived at the museum, the rain had stopped, but the clouds hung low. Chris helped usher the students off the bus and gather them under the overhang near the entrance.

"Inside voices from now on, kids." Kate reminded them, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

Inside, the museum opened into a wide, echoing foyer with polished stone floors and Romanesque columns. Arches rose up over each doorway, making the room look even bigger than it already was. In the middle hang a massive skeleton of a blue wale high above their heads. The kids gathered under it and whispered excitedly as Kate went to collect their tickets. Chris lingered behind them, keeping watch.

The exhibition was clearly designed to impress. Towering skeletons loomed overhead, some reconstructed with terrifying detail, others presented mid-dig, bones half-buried in realistic displays of soil and rock. The students broke off into small groups, armed with worksheets and pencils.

Kate went to look after each little group, answering questions patiently and showing them details they'd missed. Chris watched her, admiring how easy she made it look. She never raised her voice, never made them feel like a question was stupid.

At some point, she stepped up beside Chris who stood at a towering model of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. For a moment silence stretched between them. Then she broke it.

"This one's my favourite." She said, tipping her head back a bit to look up at it.

"Because it's terrifying?" He asked, a little amused. Her answer though was surprisingly sincere.

"Because it's misunderstood." She shrugged. "People think it was just a mindless predator, but it was smart. Strategic. Not everything big and loud is without depth." It was a rather poetic answer. My every he had expected at all. It made him think for a moment. "Sounds like a metaphor."

"Maybe it is."

"I'm glad I came. Glad you asked me." He then said, smiling softly. She turned her head to look at him. Her expression was thoughtful, then she spoke. "Me too." He met her eyes and for a tiny peaceful moment they shared something...something new, something just growing.

The moment was broke but a group of students calling Kate over to explain something. She went without hesitation, slipping back into teacher mode easily. Chris looked after her, then turned back to the exhibit.

As the visit wrapped up, they regrouped near the exit. The kids were tired now, quieter, from all the walking and information overload. Chris helped get them back into the bus in one piece, and soon they were rumbling away from the museum the building shrinking behind them.

Kate dropped into the seat next to him this time, her knee brushing against his. "Thanks for today." She said after a moment, voice soft. "You were good with them."

"I didn't do much. You answered all the questions and guided them." He replied, glancing at her.

"Still, it helped. Having you there."

He nodded, a small smile on his lips. "I'm glad I came."

After that, they sat in companionable silence, a few students dozing in their seats, the others talking about everything they'd seen. Outside it started to rain again, light at first, then steady, soaking the world. But inside, everything felt warm. And quietly, something between them continued to grow, unhurried, but unmistakably there.

Chapter Text

"This is heavenly." Kate mumbled, a little surprised, chewing on some cake. "What's it called again?" She looked at Christofer, catching the soft expression on his face - something between amusement and fondness.

"Sfouf." He replied, his tone warm. "It's Lebanese."

She nodded slowly, her lips moving soundlessly as she tried the word out in her head, shaping it carefully. "Sfouf." She echoed under her breath, as though committing the taste and name to memory.

"I never would've thought to put tumeric in cake." She added then, studying the golden crumbs on her napkin. "But it's really quite brilliant."

Christofer smiled. "My Mum makes it all the time. It's a childhood memory." Kate glanced at him, still chewing.

"Well, tell your mum it's very good."

He chuckled, pleased on his mother's behalf. "I'll pass it along. Although she'll probably make a whole tray for you."

"That's sounds dangerously tempting."

The rain had started, like it often did, sudden and without warning. The blue sky had been swallowed by grey clouds blocking the sun. Utter chaos errupted on the schoolyard, students running around, shrieking and laughing.

Chris and Kate, who'd been sitting on a bench, had hurried to the overhang by the entrance for shelter. Kate's hair was damp, a strand sticking to her forehead. She was trying - in vain - to clean the raindrops off her glasses without smudging the lenses further. She frowned.

"Let me." Chris said gently and took the glasses from her, his fingers brushing against hers, just briefly. But it was enough to make her pulse skip.

"Your jumper will only make it worse." He said, pulling a soft cotton handkerchief from his pocket and started cleaning her glasses with the fabric. He was right. The woolen material of her jumper had only resulted in streaks of rain on the glass.

When he handed them back she offered a small, warm smile and put them on. He leaned in slightly, squinting with mock seriousness as if inspecting his work.

"All clean." He said with a satisfied nod.

"Thanks." She murmured, and for a beat their eyes held, something unsaid hovering just beneath the surface.

But the moment broke. A student slipped in the rain and fell, a sharp cry ringing out. Without hesitation, Kate stepped back into the rain to tend to the student. New raindrops falling onto her glasses immediately. Chris watched her go, a quiet mix of admiration and something softer threading through his chest.

It was late in the afternoon. Classes had long ended and the sun was setting already, they had the winter to thank for that. It made the empty staffroom glow in golden light, the sun shining in at just the right angle.

It was entirely empty. Kate sat at her desk, her usual red pen in hand and an exam sprawled out in front of her. Her brows drawn together, slightly confused as she tried to read a particularly chaotic handwriting.

Her neat, elegant font adorned the side of the paper with suggestions, corrections and a few question marks. Then a mug, the one she always used - blue with waves on it, the rim slightly chapped - was set down in front of her. She looked up, Chris. Of course.

"I don't drink-" she didn't finish her sentence as Chris held up a hand, already smiling fondly.

"You don't drink coffee after five. Yes. It's Chamomile Tea." It surprised her that he knew that. Not only somewhere in the back of his mind, but actively. So actively that he used the information. She smiled, warm and yet a little shy.

"Well, thank you then." Her fingers wrapped around the mug to pick it up. The smile lingered even after she'd taken a sip and placed her concentration back onto the messy handwriting of sixteen year old Thomas Murray.

"Do you often work so late?" He asked after a long time of simple silence, not uncomfortable silence. The silence in which your brain could work better, more efficiently, cause somehow it was safe and companionable.

She lifted her head and glanced at him, shrugging absentmindedly. "It's quiet. Easier to think." Then she turned back to marking. Another few moments passed. And then he spoke up.

"I like the quiet when you're in it." Her pen halted in mid air above the paper. He didn't look at him, but warmth filled her from the inside.

"Careful, you start to sound like you enjoy my company." She said, throat just the tiniest bit dry. He chuckled.

"Maybe, I do."

The staff room was filled with comfortable chatter, a delighted laugh in one corner, the hum of the coffee machine in the other. It was lunch time.

Kate sat at her desk, eating some left over salad from the day before, a wrapped sandwich next to her. Chris only drank coffee, having forgotten his lunch - again.

"You do realise you're looking at my food like a starving little puppy, yes?" Kate commented in slight amusement and glanced at him, fork hanging in mid air. He chuckled sheepishly and looked away, sipping on his coffee.

Without a word she pushed the sandwich over the desk. He looked up surprised. "You can have it." She smiled. "Don't want you to starve to death." She added dryly, which made Chris grin.

"You're a lifesaver. Truly." He said and unwrapped the sandwich, simple cheese and onion. He made a delighted sound as he bit into it.

"This is the best sandwich I've ever had."

"Sure." She said sarcastically and rolled her eyes, fondly.

Chapter Text

When Chris entered the staff room, Kate wasn't there yet. Which made him hesitate for a moment, Kate was usually one of the first — already at the desk, coffee in hand, a red pen in the other. But today her chair was empty.

"Donna, have you seen Kate?" He asked as he stepped up beside her, setting his bag down on the table.

Donna, who had been deep in a bag of Hola Hoops looked up and shook her head. "Not coming in today. She's sick."

"Sick?" He asked surprised. "I wasn't aware Kate could do that." Donna barked out a startled laugh.

"Good one."

He chuckled and sat down, using the time to look through a few tests. But his mind drifted off to Kate. Sick. She never got sick. Was she alright? After ten minutes of getting nothing done, he decided to text her.

Chris: Donna said you were sick. Everything alright?

He looked over it. For a second, he contemplated adding an emoji. Maybe a little smiley face. He threw the idea away and hit send.

She didn't reply. At least not immediately. And when he needed to go to class, he sort of forgot about it. Until, his phone dinged. Right in the middle of third period. His students were working quietly, so he quickly slipped the phone out of his pocket and took a look.

Kate: You didn't have to check up, but thank you. I'm fine, really. I seem to have caught a stomach bug. 

Chris: Sorry to hear that. Get soon better.

Then after a moment he added a message.

Chris: You're missed.

She didn't reply. But he didn't mind. She knew that she was missed and that was all that mattered.

The rest of the day was remarkably average. Without Kate to brighten the place, Chris enjoyed his day a good deal less. In his lunch break he had to starve, cause, yet again he had forgotten any food and this time there was no Kate to give him her sandwich.

So after his day was over he made a choice. He'd go check on Kate.

He made a little stop at his mum's, who always had chicken soup, fresh or frozen. And when he mentioned bringing it to Kate, she also gave him some Sfouf, remembering that she had liked it before. It warmed his heart a bit. 

The drive to her house wasn't long. The front yard was lovingly made, with roses at the side and a slim walk up to the front door. He parked and with the Tupperware of soup and a plate with cake in both hands managed to step up to the door and ring the bell.

Nothing happened. He rang the doorbell again.

"Coming." Kate called, though she did sound significantly less animated than usual. A few moments later the door opened.

Chris tried to find a nice word. But in the end his mind settled on awful. She looked awful. Pale, dark rings under her eyes, hair in a messy ponytail and her clothes looked like she hadn't changed them in two days. Though she did immediately straighten up when she saw him. 

"Chris, I didn't expect to see you." She hastily tried to straighten her clothes and make her hair look remotely presentable. "I must look a fright." She chuckled awkwardly.

"You look beautiful." It was out before he could even close his mouth. Not that he didn't mean it. He simply hadn't planned on saying that. Her cheeks got an adorable tinge of pink, and she looked down shyly. 

After a moment she cleared her throat. "Well, anyway. How can I help you?"

"I brought soup." He offered and gestured to the Tupperware. "Chicken. And my mum gave me some Sfouf for you."

She smiled softly at him. "That's very kind, Chris. Thank you." She hesitated then, but ultimately decided on stepping aside.

"Come in?"

"Please."

She led him through the hallway where he took his trainers off and then into the kitchen. The house fit her. It wasn't very modern, but it felt warm, and the colours complemented each other. It smelled slightly like coffee when he stepped into the kitchen. It made him smile.

"Alright, go sit down." He ordered gently, setting the soup and cake down. She raised an eyebrow, something he had often seen her do with students.

"I mean it. Sit down. I'll warm the soup up for you." Her face softened a bit, but she mock saluted to him and promptly crawled back under the blanket on her couch. He smiled to himself and watched her for a moment.

Kate closed her eyes, cuddled up and listened to Chris work in her kitchen. The soft clattering of pots and silverware and his feet in the floor. In a weird way that she didn't entirely know how to explain, it made her feel warm inside. It was a sort of domesticity she hadn't experienced for a long time.

The next thing she knew was the softest touch on her arm and someone hovering over her. "Kate."

She slowly opened her eyes, looking right into Chris face. That confused her. Why was he in her bed? What confused her more was that she didn't panic or seem to mind.

But then it hit her. She wasn't in bed. She was in her couch, still sick. "Oh, sorry Chris. I must have nodded off." He only smiled warmly.

"That's okay. You looked tired." He stepped away from her, giving her a bit of space. "I heated the soup up."

She blinked a bit, rubbed her eyes and then sat up properly. Her eyes flickered to the bowl in his hand. "Thank you. That's very kind." She took the bowl, her hand immediately warming up. 

"Please sit down. I could use some company." A soft chuckle fell from her lips. Before she took the first spoon, she spoke again. "Anything interesting happen in school?"

Like Kate had offered, he sat down in the nearest armchair. "Not really. It's quite dull without you there." Her cheeks heated up again, but she conveniently hid behind the steam of her soup.

"I'm not sure I make such a big difference. I'm only one person." 

"You make a difference. At least for me."

"Well, thank you Christofer."

He smiled. A gentle, intimate smile she didn't often see on his lips. She returned it naturally.

They stayed silent after that. Kate quietly ate the soup, the warmth soothing her from within. Chris simply watched. And she found she didn't mind. It didn't feel like an invasion. She didn't even feel embarrassed about the way she looked. She just felt...calm.

When she was done, she placed the bowl in the table. Or, she tried to, but before the bowl had the chance to even touch the wood, he had snapped it out of her hand and went to wash it up. Yet again, she smiled.

"Tell your mother thank you, by the way." She called after him. "The soup was very good. And I bet the Sfouf will be amazing as well." She slightly stumbled over the word, apparently having forgotten how it was pronounced again. But he thought it sounded adorable.

"She'll be very happy."

"Good."

He cleaned up the kitchen and put the rest of the soup in the fridge. For tomorrow, he had said. 

The next day when she'd heated the soup up again and eaten it, properly at the table now, her kind had immediately wandered to him and for some unexplainable reason, she had felt her heart pick up a tiny beat and her cheeks heat up at the memory of him caring for her.

Her phone pinged with a new message.

Chris: Are you feeling better? Eating the soup? I can bring you more.

Kate: Soup is still very good. No need for more. Thank you very much.

Chris: I'm just a text away.

Kate: Might just be a desk away tomorrow. I'm predicted to be back at work.

Chris: Thank God. Donna has not stopped talking to me about Desperate Housewives. Or the newest Bridget Jones movie. 

Kate: Seems right up your street, no?

She grinned to herself.

Chris: Absolutely not. I'm a firm believer in Julia Roberts Romcoms.

Why did that make her smile? She shook her head, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Kate: "I'm just a boy, texting a girl, asking her to come back to work?"

Chris: Sounds right.

The next day she was back at work. And he smiled so brightly at her, that all of Donna's alarm bells went off.