Balance (25 page)

She takes a sip of her tea, holding
the
mug in front of her face, the steam unfurling, distracting her thoughts,
“I know you want to
help me come to grips with what happened
,
and I assume
dinner is so Takada can explain its significance. 
Please don’t worry,
I’ll be fine tonight, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear Takada out before you and I discuss it.  Is that okay?”

He watches her intently; worried he’d reopened the wound. 
“
I don’t want
you
to
re
visit
something
that
’s
painful
, if you don’t want to.
  Whether we talk about it or not, that will be your decision.  I trust you and will not push.  I promise.
”

Giving him a warm, thankful smile,
Rena considers Michael’s comment, thinking to her
self, ‘compartmentalization’. 
She suspects
he
has an idea about the
exercise
,
but out of respect for her, he will not
raise
the subject.  As
if,
it was that simple.  She’
s replayed the
events of yesterday
in
her head several
times;
confident
this particular exercise had
several aspects, all with their own purpose.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
She replies
,
admiring Michael’s ability to disconnect from emotional events in his life
.

Mid-afternoon, the computer chimes.

Michael
again
answers Rena’s door, finding Abigail standing in the hallway with a large wheeled suitcase in tow.  She looks at
him
and smiles.
 
“I believe Rena was expecting me.”

Puzzled
with all the secrecy
,
Michael
opens the door
,
letting Abigail and her suitcase into
the
residence
,
follow
ing
her
into the main living space.

Rena,
walking into the sitting
room from her bedroom,
gazes
at
the arrival
, confusion on her face as well.

“You were expecting Abigail?” Michael
inquires
.

“Abigail? … Dinner.
Ah, yes, I guess I should have
.
 
Abby,
I’m sorry.
” Rena
smiles
apologetically
.

Abby
turns to Michae
l,
her best
‘you’re the third wheel here’ look
etched on her face
, “Now, if you’ll please excuse us.  I will come retrieve you when Rena is ready, thank you.”

U
ndeniably
grasping the non-verbal
message
,
Michael
immediately leaves Rena’s
quarters, returning to his own
.

Entering his
residence
, he
finds
the
garment bag Waters left for him
.  Looking at his empty, unused bed, he thinks to himself,
‘Well, at least Takada will be p
leased
I spent the night with
Rena.’

Walking out of the bedroom,
he stands in the middle of his main living space, feeling oddly out of place.  He starts pacing,
trying
to distract
his mind
, feeling
more at home in Rena’s quarters.  He laughs, acknowledging t
he identical accommodations,
attributing
the anxiety
to
feeling
wanted and needed
while
with her
. 
P
rotective instin
cts kick-in
full strength
,
his
concern
for
her
welfare in his absence
,
growing
.
 
Fearful
and agitated, h
e
tries
to
distract his mind by submersing
himself in the Procedure and
P
rotoc
ol manual.

For an hour, he reads and recalls nothing.  F
inally surrendering to his adolescent feelings
,
Michael
heads
for
the shower.

After a long hot
soak
, which did little to relax his concern
s
for Rena,
Michael
proceeds
to get ready for the evening.  It surprises him
that
they’d have to dress up, even casually
,
for a meal here at the
Bunker
.  He
wonder
s
what the evening will entail.  Takada has exhibited an unnerving dichotomy of personality traits; mentor and teacher one moment like yesterday in the dojo,
than
ordering the
torturous
exercise
for Rena, while
forcing him
to observe.  This isn’t the first time, eith
er.  How did Rena describe it, ‘
c
harming like
an assassin
’
.
  Angered and
perplexed
,
Michae
l commits himself to dressing.

Ms. Smith
provid
ed him a white silk dress-
shirt with
Mandarin
collar, just an inch wide band around his neck
and
small black round stones for buttons.  The shirt
,
loose,
but fitted so as not to blouse at the waist when tucked into the fine wool
black
pleated
dress slacks.  A black, reptile scale belt and
matching
shoe
s complete the
ensemble
.

Staring at his image in the large full-length mirror, h
e
decides to comb
back
h
is wavy blonde hair, f
eeling
the attire
warranted
a clean
, professional
look
.

Returning to his sitting room, realizing he
dressed far too early
,
Michael expects
to wait ages for Rena.  He
confesses
to himself,
his
impatience
the result of
anticipation,
the thrill of
seeing
her
dressed
up
for the evening.  The last time
she
dressed up, their second day in the
Bunker
,
had taken
his breath away.  The opportunity to experience that sensation again excited him.

He
recommits
to pacing
the
main living space, periodically checking his appearance in the
mirror, making
sure
he looks
acceptable.

H
is wall computer chimes, 5:30PM, i
mmediately
followed by
a light
knock on
the
door. 
Opening
it
,
Michael
find
s
Abigail waitin
g in the hall.

“W
hen
you’re
ready
,
Rena is waiting for you.” She proclaims softly.

“Thank you.  I’m just finishing up.  Be a minute and I’ll be right over.” Michael lies.  Abby’s eyes move over his person, surveying the ensemble he suspects she helped pick out.  Her focus returns to his face, a knowing grin, very reminiscent of Rena’s half-smile tells him his p
oor attempt at stalling failed.  Without a word, she
rolls her eyes and
turns back across the hall.

Shutting the door and r
eturning to
the main living
room,
he
tr
ies
to figure out
why
he didn’
t
just
rush right past
her
.
  He’s
so excited to see
Rena
dressed up,
he
’s
confusing himself.
 
Finally composing his thoughts,
the voice in his head
reproves
, ‘
L
isten, relax idiot, your acting like a
Chihuahua
that has to pee.  If you don’t get a hold of yourself, she’s going to start feeling uncomfortable around you … besides, you
’ve
seen her at her most
beautiful, it can’t compare
,
can it?’
 
Michael relaxes
,
taking a deep breath, talking
to himself for confidence
,
“S
eriously,
you
see her every day.
S
he
’s
beautiful every time
you
look at her,
and she’ll
be beautiful this time too, no difference.
”
 

He
steps
across the hall, knocking lightly,
trying
not to seem t
oo
eager
.  The door opens.
Abigail
standing in the entry
gives him a look that
speaks volumes
…
‘you’re
not prepared
’
.  His anxiety pitches as h
e walks casu
ally into the main living area
.

A
t the same
time,
Rena steps
from
the bedroom
.

“Oh my!” 
Michael’s
breath
escapes him
.
He
hopes it returns soon, since passing out would probably not make her too comfortable
with his effectiveness as her
Dispatch.
 
Without a word, his gaze moves slowly over her body, the sexual tension palpable.

Rena
wears
a pearlescent
antique
colored
silk
slip-style evening
gown.
T
he top of the dress
originat
es
from a
brushed silver circlet
held in place by two tiny spaghetti
straps
that
reach around her neck
,
crisscrossing behind her back and
reattach to the
dress widening over her breasts.
The
backless gown
,
wrap
s
around her waist
in a plunging curve, well
below the small of he
r
bac
k.
T
he
slightly angled
lower hem
crosses
mid-
thigh
in front
, falling to just above the back of the knee
.  T
he smooth
, slightly lustrous
material
perfectly
follow
s
her
curves
without being restrictive
, flaring just s
lightly
above the bottom hem
,
heralding
her
exquisite
feminine figure
.