Her knock on the door was promptly answered by the tall captain, but after his brief greeting, he looked past her toward the outer door of his office. She was tempted to turn and glance over her shoulder to see what he was looking at, but she didn’t. It was one of those strange feelings again, one that told her that she must defer to him and let him handle it, whatever ‘it’ was.
“*This* is who you had your meeting with?”
Tokio was a little rattled and very confused; her face showed it. How would that little man with the nasty countenance know that she was meeting with Captain Saitoh today? She was sure that her secretary could be trusted to be discrete.
Apprehensiveness washed over her. Did the people in her department, who were out for no good, already know her comings and goings? That could be a problem. Her concerted efforts not to call attention to herself were failing. Most likely due to what happened at that café. Both of them had been there, albeit not together. Not until they had to protect each other from the carnage. Probably every officer on duty yesterday responded to that incident, not to mention the med-evac units. Her state of dress, or lack of it, was great grist for the gossip mill. The press had a field day.
“You have a lot of nerve, giving me shit over wanting to get good coverage and appreciating the benefits of positive relations.”
Tokio may be virginal, but she was not naive, having been exposed to the ways of the world, courtesy of her chosen profession. She knew there could be more than one meaning to a statement like that, and she didn’t like what was being insinuated one bit. Her face flushed, but not in embarrassment. She was getting angry.
“Please have a seat, Takagi-san…I have a matter of business to attend to and will be right back.”
She nodded and obeyed. It was amazing how easy it was to do what he said. She usually questioned anyone who tried to direct her, even when it was her father or brother, who was making an attempt.
Tokio took a seat and waited for the captain to return. When he did, offering an apology, she responded quietly, looking into his amber eyes, “Thank you captain, but it is not necessary for you to apologize for someone else’s rudeness.”
But Hajime was Hajime, she thought with a start. It was in his nature to have consideration for her. The far reaches of her mind could even imagine what might have transpired in the hallway, but her conscious self did not want to think about it.
“Yes, I am carrying. But I am carrying *yours*. Mine, which is as you suspected, a standard issue model, is in my shoulder bag.”
Tokio then stood and excused herself. Turning her back to him, she lifted her blouse and withdrew his small side arm from her concealed shoulder holster. She had a fleeting thought that it wasn’t necessary to turn away from him, as he had seen her bare midriff before. But that was back at the café, he was injured and she had no choice but to strip off her blouse to use it as a tourniquet. Her mind told her no. It was another time, another place, but he had seen her, *all* of her. She felt a light panic rise in her chest. These idiotic thoughts were back. The drug shouldn’t be so long acting, should it? This type had to be really strong, maybe some sort of timed-release, if she was still emotionally hallucinating almost 24 hours later.
Turning to face him again, she gently laid his gun on his desk, taking care that it was not pointed toward either of them. Then she laid her hand on it, placing her fingers in all the right places to remove her genetic signature from the lock.
“Thank you for loaning me your gun,” she dipped her head as she said it. “I won’t be so careless from now on. I did intend to take my brother’s advice, to get some body armor, but I underestimated the danger here in New Meiji, and did not do that as soon as I should have.”
“I also need to apologize to you for my behavior yesterday,” she was embarrassed for touching him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab at you like I did. It could have caused you to lose your balance. I don’t normally do things like that to men. I don’t know what came over me. It must have been the stress of the situation,” she let out, trying to give a logical reason for her actions. Maybe it was a new designer drug, she was tempted to add. She surely couldn’t tell him the *truth*, that her hands just moved themselves and she had nothing to say about it, and she couldn’t have controlled it, even if she had wanted to. And she han’t *wanted to* she realized much to her horror.
no subject
“*This* is who you had your meeting with?”
Tokio was a little rattled and very confused; her face showed it. How would that little man with the nasty countenance know that she was meeting with Captain Saitoh today? She was sure that her secretary could be trusted to be discrete.
Apprehensiveness washed over her. Did the people in her department, who were out for no good, already know her comings and goings? That could be a problem. Her concerted efforts not to call attention to herself were failing. Most likely due to what happened at that café. Both of them had been there, albeit not together. Not until they had to protect each other from the carnage. Probably every officer on duty yesterday responded to that incident, not to mention the med-evac units. Her state of dress, or lack of it, was great grist for the gossip mill. The press had a field day.
“You have a lot of nerve, giving me shit over wanting to get good coverage and appreciating the benefits of positive relations.”
Tokio may be virginal, but she was not naive, having been exposed to the ways of the world, courtesy of her chosen profession. She knew there could be more than one meaning to a statement like that, and she didn’t like what was being insinuated one bit. Her face flushed, but not in embarrassment. She was getting angry.
“Please have a seat, Takagi-san…I have a matter of business to attend to and will be right back.”
She nodded and obeyed. It was amazing how easy it was to do what he said. She usually questioned anyone who tried to direct her, even when it was her father or brother, who was making an attempt.
Tokio took a seat and waited for the captain to return. When he did, offering an apology, she responded quietly, looking into his amber eyes, “Thank you captain, but it is not necessary for you to apologize for someone else’s rudeness.”
But Hajime was Hajime, she thought with a start. It was in his nature to have consideration for her. The far reaches of her mind could even imagine what might have transpired in the hallway, but her conscious self did not want to think about it.
“Yes, I am carrying. But I am carrying *yours*. Mine, which is as you suspected, a standard issue model, is in my shoulder bag.”
Tokio then stood and excused herself. Turning her back to him, she lifted her blouse and withdrew his small side arm from her concealed shoulder holster. She had a fleeting thought that it wasn’t necessary to turn away from him, as he had seen her bare midriff before. But that was back at the café, he was injured and she had no choice but to strip off her blouse to use it as a tourniquet. Her mind told her no. It was another time, another place, but he had seen her, *all* of her. She felt a light panic rise in her chest. These idiotic thoughts were back. The drug shouldn’t be so long acting, should it? This type had to be really strong, maybe some sort of timed-release, if she was still emotionally hallucinating almost 24 hours later.
Turning to face him again, she gently laid his gun on his desk, taking care that it was not pointed toward either of them. Then she laid her hand on it, placing her fingers in all the right places to remove her genetic signature from the lock.
“Thank you for loaning me your gun,” she dipped her head as she said it. “I won’t be so careless from now on. I did intend to take my brother’s advice, to get some body armor, but I underestimated the danger here in New Meiji, and did not do that as soon as I should have.”
“I also need to apologize to you for my behavior yesterday,” she was embarrassed for touching him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab at you like I did. It could have caused you to lose your balance. I don’t normally do things like that to men. I don’t know what came over me. It must have been the stress of the situation,” she let out, trying to give a logical reason for her actions. Maybe it was a new designer drug, she was tempted to add. She surely couldn’t tell him the *truth*, that her hands just moved themselves and she had nothing to say about it, and she couldn’t have controlled it, even if she had wanted to. And she han’t *wanted to* she realized much to her horror.