A small, warm smile played at Emily's lips as her fellow professor walked in. She had figured it would be one of her students and was pleasantly surprised by her incorrect assumption. She was fond of Kieran, being that their curriculum were so closely entwined.

"Good day, Professor Arajos," she replied with a polite nod and an equally thick accent. Though she was close in age to him and a few other members of the faculty, her English heritage always seemed to implore her to be formal.

Emily rarely fraternized with the other faculty members, being the sole female member of an all-male faculty. It was rather intimidating, being surrounded by a proverbial sausage fest all the time. She was professional about it, but the population difference was a hindrance to her social status among the men. She would occasionally speak to Mr. Mode in passing or ask Professor Hootford for advice on a particular topic, but she rarely said more than a few sentences to her co-workers, even when working in close proximity with them.

"Oh, thank you, dear," she said gratefully, taking the paperwork and leafing through it. She had been asked to begin with the fundamentals, but fundamentals bored everyone, including her, so she had chosen to skip them and jump straight into writing. Once she had the papers all but memorized, she straightened them and sorted them into one of her immaculately stacked folders.

Emily propped her head on her hand as Kieran recited the quote in Spanish. It seemed to make the deep words all the more beautiful. A pang of sorrow lanced her heart as she began to miss home even more.

"That was quite beautiful," she admitted, smiling. "I tend to find Shakespeare most endearing when it comes to stimulating the minds of my students. They usually respond well to his works."

Tracing her tarantula's aquarium thoughtfully again. "Did you need anything else?" she asked.

Heat rose to Emily's cheeks at the other professor's compliment, and she averted her gaze, instead continuing to toy with her little pet. Sneaking a glance upward, she noted how uncomfortable Professor Kieran looked as he stared at her spider. Tapping the glass on the aquarium, she took it off her desk and placed it in the space below, near her feet. She often did the same when her students got edgy around her little Arachne, even though the spider was completely harmless. A diet of crickets and various other arthropod delicacies left little room for a human snack.

Her eyes flitted back to him as he began uttering a string of Spanish. It was almost musical as the words flowed effortlessly from his full lips, wrapping themselves Emily and making her smile uncontrollably. She didn't understand anything he was saying, but she almost didn't need to, so entrancing were the words.

Her smile widened when he switched to English, repeating the words. They were not quite as stunning as in Spanish, but they were familiar, and she was quite shocked at his knowledge of Shakespeare. It wasn't usually discussed in History criteria, unless he had delved into the poet's works in his spare time, which few men did. Most didn't understand or appreciate the masterpieces of Othello, Julius Caesar, Hamlet, let alone his individual sonnets.

"It is, indeed," she agreed, amazed. "You seem to know a lot about Mr. Will. Have you studied his works, or are you like every other man that memorizes that quote to please a woman?" she asked teasingly, leaning back in her chair. She straightened the books on her desk, her OCD refusing to allow even the slightest amount of disorder. Her notes were impeccably ordered alphabetically, numerically, by date written, and by category. It was her way of coping from being away from home for so long.

Emily smiled warmly, knowing she had done right by hiding her darling pet. Just from the newfound countenance of her coworker, she could tell he was a thousand times more comfortable with the arachnid out of view. People could be so silly. Tarantulas were virtually harmless to everything except crickets, and she did hate to hit her darling Arachne.

"I sincerely hope you do not take offense to my words, Professor Arajos. It is simply a rare occurrence to stumble across a man so well-studied in the classics," she praised. The way his tongue transitioned from Spanish to English, never losing its foreign flair, was so smooth it was almost as if he had no clue it was happening. The words, so alien to her in another tongue and yet all too familiar in English made her laugh with glee.

"I only wish, my dear, that I was as eloquent in more than one language. The words seem to enter a dance the moment you utter them. It's quite entrancing, if I may say." Heat rose to Emily's cheeks when she realized that her words sounded like a complete come-one. Were they? she wondered. After all, her coworker was not unattractive was most certainly younger than her usual company. She pushed the thought from her mind. She had no place for romantic endeavors. Her work and her students must come first.

Clearing her throat, she added, "Is there anything else I can assist you with, Professor?"

Emily was flustered by her obvious blunder, and couldn't stop the blotch redness from rising in her cheeks. She felt so silly and immature in front of this well-versed man, and she knew it was showing.

She carefully took the papers from him and added them to her own stack, drumming her slender fingers on the stack; her OCD was kicking in full throttle to have them back in in perfect alphabetical order. As she set to work on her task, placing "Sanders" before "Vix" and so on and so forth, she was able to compose herself while Professor Kieran thanked her. His compliments brought a small, girlish smile to her lips, but she wasn't sure if the man was just teasing her after her fabulous bout of clumsiness or if he was being truly genuine. Regardless, she was flattered.

As he spoke, she pondered the dance. What would they talk about? The students? What should she wear. Question upon question danced about in her head. Speaking of, would he ask her to dance with him? Would he ask to be more than friends? Emily told herself to stop being so forward. They were friends and business partners, nothing more. No need to start planning how many children they would have just yet.

"I can honestly say I regret to see you go as I have enjoyed this conversation immensely," she admitted. "But you are correct, and I do have to get back to these paper. I shall see you at the dance, I presume, Professor," she said. Back to business, as usual.