Work Text:
There were times when his Victorian formated brain would reemerge without notice. A little sense of panic sending his heart racing before he would remind himself that social conventions had been loosened and that Helen was perfectly free to wear what she wanted.
Exhibit A: That skirt.
It was an anthracite grey pencil skirt that revealed too much leg. He could see her knees for Goodness' sake!
He took a deep intake, trying to calm his thoughts of another age. She was speaking to him. It was the 21st century. What was he thinking? He had seen her wear much more provocative pieces of clothing before. But in the afternoon light, the rays of sunshine through the windows of her office accentuating the pale of her skin, he found himself blatantly staring at the beauty of her calves, the magnificent curve descending to her perfect heels.
He remembered a time when women were to wear much more conservative dresses. Even at the beach, or playing tennis. Helen had always respected those rules, her presence at the university was already controversial enough.
"Nikola, are you paying attention?"
He blinked. Right. Slowly, he set up his gaze to her eyes. He offered her his trademark cocky smile.
"I must admit, dear Helen, that I find your presence very distracting."
She rolled her eyes and rearranged her legs. She raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. Slightly annoyed, even. But he also noticed the faint blush on her cheeks.
"Well, focus, Nikola," she replied.
"With that skirt? Helen, how scandalizing! What would your father say, seeing you so exposed!"
Her eyes narrowed in surprise and she set up a defensive smile to cover her blush. He could see her articulations going white as she held the edge of her desk. He held her look. She broke first, turning her chin to the right and eyes lowering.
He smiled. He wasn't the only one still affected by those stupid rules.
Exhibit B: Those pants.
Of course, she couldn't wear skirts on an expedition, she had to wear pants. It felt even more wrong to see her in those loose-fitting beige pants than in skirts.
She opened the way, the protégé by her side trying to get extra bonus points for his homework by smarming at the teacher. He was a few steps behind them, hence the view.
He had rarely seen Helen's legs as two separate entities before, he would need some time to adjust.
She looked comfortable, in her element, there in that Indian forest, stepping over branches with no restricting material. He thought that she would have loved trying pants back in the days at Oxford. Although she probably did, the fine scientist that she was probably experimented with men's fashion over time.
Great, now he couldn't get that vision of Helen in a three-piece suit, with her shiny blond curls and a smile equally as bright off his mind.
Exhibit C: those pyjamas.
He hadn't meant to see her, not like this, though he couldn't say he was sorry. Helen Magnus in her pyjamas was quite a sight. He couldn't help the bubbles of tenderness from exploding in his chest like a quiet firework.
He hadn't expected her to be so... domestic. The tank tops with a rainbow pattern and the black shorts were certainly something very few people would see. He pushed aside the thoughts that this wasn't proper night dress for a lady, wishing these thoughts would just go away.
With no makeup on and barefoot in the corridors, she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Helen, what a delicious surprise," he smirked. Despite his best efforts, his mind started listing all the body parts he shouldn't be allowed to see.
"Working late?" she asked him designing his suit still on despite the advanced hour of the night. Heels, calves, knees, tighs...
"No rest for the brilliant scientists, I'm afraid," he sighed, dramatically. Forearms, elbows, biceps, shoulders... "And you were...?"
"Just about to go back to bed," she finished his sentence with a little nod. She didn't seem so uncomfortable that he saw her in so little clothes, just tired. Realization dawned on him, chasing away the rest.
"You couldn't sleep?"
"I think I'll try again."
"Care for company?" he winked at her in the hope of making her laugh.
"You wish," she responded, teasingly. She walked past him, brushing him quite unnecessarily.