“It’s something,” I said, trying not to be too obvious that I was giving her a once-over. She smiled, blushing slightly, so I guess I failed miserably.
“I’ve been sent to fetch you,” she said.
“Let me guess,” I said, adding; “Ten by ten, a cot and a pot,” but I only confused her. “A prison cell,” I said.
She measured her laughter, covering her mouth with her hand, “No, Mr. Blackjack. Just regular guest quarters. You will no doubt want to bathe and...change clothing.” Focus looked at what I wore and raised an eyebrow.
“Lead on, then.”
We walked through some halls to an elevator that took us higher. I noticed how uncomfortable she seemed, not speaking to me at all, and reverted to my usual nervous-joking ways.
“This tour sucks, by the way.”
She cocked her head, “Pardon me?”
“Well, the tour leader...she won’t give us the full spiel, you know? I paid fifty bucks for this ride.” I tried to be as deadpan as possible, but she misunderstood me, apparently unused to sarcasm and irony.
“I...I don’t know–”
“Fifty bucks,” I laid it on. “And I don’t even get a bit on the place, how it’s built or whatever. I mean, I waited forty-five minutes in line to get on this ride.”
She just looked at me with her mouth wide open, and eyes narrowed, half angry and half bewildered.
“I’m joking,” I said.
Focus blushed again, giving her head a little flutter-recoil as if she were trying to regain her composure. She did this cute thing where she shook her head ever-so-slightly, moving her lips as if the internal conversation she was having was spilling outward.
The door opened, saving her from more of my humor, and she flashed a fake smile and motioned for me to follow her. Again, she led in silence, taking me through an area that had the feel of housing, with a large cafeteria that was full with the dinner crowd. It smelled like some sort of meat, like BBQ, and I almost abandoned my escort to get some food.
“Perhaps you should bathe first,” she said, noticing that I had paused at the door, looking inside the cafeteria at the diners as if I was a ravenous wolf ready to steal a kill.
“Do I really look that bad?”
She nodded.
“Really, really?”
Focus raised an eyebrow, “You look like a homeless person, Mr. Blackjack.”
“Probably smell like one too,” I chuckled.
She leaned closer, took a sniff and nodded.
“Ok, a shower and shave then I’m having whatever they’re serving there,” I said, walking after her again. As I caught up, I gave her bottom a little peek, but she turned and saw me looking.
“Is something wrong?” she said, arching around to look behind her, as if she had a spider on her back or something.
“Nothing,” I said, moving on, and when she came beside me, I noticed her fighting off another bout of blushing. She had a light skin tone that did little to conceal her shyness.
“Here,” she said a moment later, as we reached a door that opened as we approached.
Inside was a simple antechamber with a couch/chair combo and a mini-kitchen. Beyond, another door lead to the bedroom.
“The public mess will be open for another hour,” she said. “So you have time.”
I took a step inside, noticing the slight accents and decorations meant to make the place homey, including a wide HD screen that played a looping video of a fireplace, the low mood lighting, the strategically positioned palms and table plants, and the scattered recessed lighting.
“Mess?” I said, pretending to be confused. “How will I ever find the way?”
She smiled, starting to become accustomed to my little game.
“It’s that way, Mr. Blackjack,” she said, pointing down the hall. “We just walked past it.”
“Ah,” I said. “What if I get lost?”
Focus chuckled.
“You are being monitored at all times.”
“I mean, what if I’m scared to eat by myself? You eat, right?”
She looked down, thankful at the shadows that played over her face.
“I have duties, forgive me.”
I pretended to be sad. “Nice, I offend you. It’s the smell, isn’t it?”
Focus got serious again.
“No, no,” she said. “I’m needed on the command deck. You see, we are investigating the happenings in your country’s capital, and the disappearances of the other major superhero teams. I would normally not mind accompanying you. If I hadn’t eaten already, that is. So you see–”
She stopped, seeing the big smile on my face, again confused.
“I’m joking,” I said, and crimson danced along her cheeks.
“I’m...sorry. I’m not used to your humor,” she said.