| Subject: This I Offer 3/20 |
Author:
Athena4
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Date Posted: 19:21:05 03/04/02 Mon
In reply to:
Athena4
's message, "This I Offer" on 14:58:36 03/03/02 Sun
Madeline perched on the edge of the leather couch, studying the room carefully. There were two entrances. The one they had come through, to her right, and another along the far wall. The first was a standard wood door, unsuspicious from the outside, but lacking a doorknob on the interior. A small peephole lay three quarters of the way up, probably one way.
The double doors along the far wall were more elaborate. Stained glass, they were decorated in dark colours, giving an almost holy feel to a less-than-wholesome situation. Madeline shuddered as she studied the doors more closely. The images in the glass, on first glance also religious in nature, were in fact bastardizations; darkly sexual images whose meaning warped any pious feeling of comfort into a dark fear.
It was abundantly clear that prying eyes were not allowed. Close inspection, instead of being an end to curiosity, brought even greater wariness.
A large oak server stood adjacent to the doors, its surface covered almost entirely with lace and expensive silver. The server was set – a tray of sandwiches and a pot of tea displayed prominently at the front. The tea had long ago grown cold.
Paul paced on the far side of the room, hands in his pockets, his eyes never straying far from the double doors. A small table separated Madeline from him, covered, as in a doctor’s office, with out-dated magazines and “familiar” items meant to bring comfort to the frightened.
She glanced across it, watching Paul walk up and down the room. He was nervous, his eyes focussed on the far doors as if he could will them open. So much hinged on this first meeting – and not all of it was related to the mission. When his eyes did leave the doorway, they fell on her, and a shadow crossed his face, a soft smile trying to hide what his visage revealed.
“Paul?” she said, rising from her spot on the couch. She walked around the table towards him, stopping his pacing with a touch of her hand. “Paul? This is crazy. Can’t we just go?”
He reached out with his hands to cup her face, kissing her forehead gently. “This is going to work out. This man can get us back on our feet again. I promise you.”
She leaned against his chest, his arms coming down to embrace her. “All right,” she said quietly.
Paul released her and turned as the double doors swung open behind them, revealing a tall, lanky man. “Mr. Ryker will see you now,” he said sternly, stepping aside to let them through the doorway.
“Thank you,” Paul replied. Madeline froze, feigning fear at the request, but Paul clasped her hand , turning back towards her. “It’ll be okay,” he said, just loud enough for the man in the doorway to hear. “Let’s go.”
Smiling nervously, she allowed herself to be led through the door.
The décor on the other side was similar to that of the lounge. Leather wingback chairs sat at intervals down the corridor, usually outside of a set of double doors. The doors themselves were once again darkened stained glass, but these had visible locking mechanisms on the outside.
Shifting her eyes, Madeline looked towards Paul, only to find him staring down at her.
Frowning slightly, she met his troubled gaze. He was playing the role of the dutiful husband well, but it was almost time for a sudden shift in character and -- if they were to succeed, his anxiety about her couldn’t get in the way.
He understood her gaze, and turned away, loosening his grip on her hand as he did so. Good, she thought. At least one of us is prepared.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed aside the knot of fear that had made its way into her stomach.. Dammit, she swore silently. What am I so afraid of?
Allowing her grip to tighten minutely on Paul’s hand, she focused her thoughts. It’s a mission. It means nothing. Nothing The problem was, it did mean something. Or it would, if she allowed it to…and she was having trouble letting it go. Ryker she could handle, but Paul…
“Wait here.”
The voice interrupted her thoughts, and Madeline started. They had reached the end of the corridor. Plush carpeting had given way to a large foyer of hardwood. To one side, a stairway led upwards, another staircase angling off from the landing. Their guide went off in the other direction, stopping before a door framed by two guards. He spoke quietly to them and was admitted. As the door closed behind him, Madeline felt a hand on her arm.
“What do you think?” Paul said quietly.
“Suspiciously wholesome environment,” Madeline replied, trying to keep her voice light. “But there are eyes everywhere.”
Paul nodded gravely, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. His eyes shifted quickly as their guide re-emerged. “Ready?” he said aloud. She nodded meekly, following him past the guards and into the presence of Joaquim Ryker.
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