Attached here is Scene 45 of Spreading Wings
C&C Welcome.
I will try to get corrected copy onto the web site today in html format.
Scene 45 is a rather important one. I was unhappy with the first three
drafts of it and may well change it again depending upon the feedback I
get about this particular version.
Thanks in advance for your time and attention,
Don Granberry.
Most of the characters in this piece and the setting for it, were
conceived of by Rumiko Takahashi for her Ranma1/2 series of Manga. All
such characters and the setting are the property of Takahashi-san and
her licensees. All other characters in the piece are purely fictional
and any resemblences to actual persons living or dead are purely
coincidental.
Spreading Wings
Part I: The Burning Ring of Fire
Scene 45
Westerlake had grilled tuna steaks the previous Sunday and was now
building a huge, American style, dagwood sandwich out of the last one
left, while Nabiki put her wet clothing in the washing machine. She
walked back into the kitchen wearing the long, terry cloth robe he had
given her.
"Did you know the furo is empty?" she asked.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Westerlake said as he motioned for her
to follow him, "I want to show you something."
Westerlake led her to the dining room and opened the glass shoji
and led Nabiki out onto a large wooden deck that had been built out into
the back yard.
"I normally use this thing after heavy exercise instead of the
furo," he said, "It's much more relaxing."
Nabiki was amazed. Part of the deck was roofed over. The roof
sheltered a redwood hot tub large enough for five people to sit in at
the same time. The hot water within it was already churning. The covered
deck was equipped with indirect lighting and soft music played, barely
audible over the noise of the bubbling tub.
"Ooh, so dark and inviting!" Nabiki said, "I'll be right back."
Westerlake followed her back into the house. She went to shower
while he finished constructing the dagwood. He cut it across from corner
to corner, then poured two glasses of zinfandel and set them next to the
plate on the counter. He then walked through the living room and down
the hall to the hall closet. He got out another full length, terry cloth
bathrobe. Thus equipped, he repaired to the engawa, removed his clothes
and donned the robe. Nabiki came out of the shower just as he finished.
"Sandwich waiting for you in the kitchen," Westerlake said.
"Thank you, Bill!" Nabiki said cheerfully.
Westerlake grinned at her and made his way to the bath. He did not
dawdle in the shower. He was hungry and he had pleasant company to keep.
He pulled on a pair of swim trunks after he showered, threw on the robe
but did not tie it and went into the kitchen. She had eaten both halves
of the dagwood. Westerlake chuckled, then got a very worried look on his
face. He opened a drawer and dug out his lucky, silver dollar.
"Heads on, tails off," he whispered to himself as he flipped the
heavy coin.
It came up heads. Westerlake put the coin back in its place and
then hesitated. Boy, I hope your are right he thought, glancing at the
drawer which held the coin. Westerlake pulled off his trunks and stuffed
them into a pot in the bottom cabinet. He tied his robe, took the
remaining glass of wine and made his way out onto the deck. Nabiki was
already luxuriating in the tub, without a swimsuit. Her wineglass was
half full. She held the glass out.
"Oops," Westerlake said, "I'll go get the bottle."
I hope you know what you are doing, Nabiki! She thought to
herself as Westerlake went back inside. This was a situation which could
be easily misconstrued by an American, but she almost certain that
Westerlake would nothing without a very clear invitation from her. She
was absolutely certain she could stop him by simply saying no. This
would be an interesting test. A test she would never dream of using on
any of the other men she knew. None of them seem to have this man's
character.
Westerlake returned the bottle of wine and topped off her glass
before disrobing and climbing into the tub. He could have made the cover
of any beefcake magazine, even with the scars. Especially with the scars
maybe, she thought.
"The washer stopped so I threw your clothes into the dryer," he
said in English, then laid his head back on the wall of the tub and
closed his eyes.
"Thanks, Bill," Nabiki said as she took a sip of her wine.
"Would you mind if I asked a couple of questions about Friday
night?"
"No, are you having trouble remembering it?" Nabiki asked with
tiny little smile.
"I am not having any trouble remembering you in that red dress."
Nabiki chuckled, looking very satisfied with herself.
"Ask me anything you like about Friday night," she said, "I won't
charge you a single yen for answers."
"Oh, my! Such untoward generosity! You're getting my hopes up."
"Okay, a thousand yen then."
Westerlake laughed.
"I don't guess that will break me," he said pretending to dry an
eye.
"I'm glad to hear that," Nabiki said dryly.
"Do I have to pay now or will you trust me?"
"I'm sitting here naked in your hot tub."
"Let's not talk about that."
"Why?" Nabiki asked innocently, "Does it bother you?"
"Well in the States this sort of...situation would be, ah..."
"Unusual?"
"For me, yes."
"Just for you?"
"Well, in the States people don't usually bathe together unless
they are...ah...further along in a relationship."
"Oh, I see," she said, "Do you have a tub like this at home?"
"No, I never did have one of these at home," he said.
"Have you always been a bachelor?"
"Yes. I came close to asking a girl to marry me once, but changed
my mind?"
"Why?"
"I, ah, I loved her too much."
"What do you mean?" Nabiki sounded mildly shocked.
"Being married to a Marine is a less than ideal existence," he
said, "Being married to a Marine Corps pilot is very difficult."
"Why?"
"The pay is not all that good for starters, then you have to
remember we would be at sea for months at a time."
"Is that all?"
"Most women had a hard time coping with the risks we took," he
said, "I saw what it did to the wives of my friends."
"So you took it on yourself to decide for her?" Nabiki ask
sounding vaguely annoyed.
"It was not an arbitrary decision."
"Oh, really?" Nabiki asked sound less than convinced.
"No, it wasn't," Westerlake said sounding grim, "She attended a
friend of mine's funeral with me. I made the decision after I saw what
that did to her."
"Oh," Nabiki said in a quiet voice.
"I like this stuff," Nabiki said shaking her wine glass, after
several moments of clumsy silence "What kind of wine is it?"
"Would you like some more?" Westerlake asked.
Nabiki held out her glass so he could pour.
"It's just an ordinary, Zinfandel wine."
"Zinfandel?"
"That's the name of the grape variety it is made from."
"California?"
"Yes."
"I would like to see America sometime."
"I could arrange that for you," Westerlake said with a sly smile.
"I'm sure you could," Nabiki said with a hint of sarcasm, "Aren't
we supposed to be talking about Friday?"
"Why did you keep feeding me sake that night?"
"Because you kept drinking."
"It never crossed your mind to ask me if I wanted another drink?"
"Why would it? That would be unbelievably rude."
"I should have known!" Westerlake said, then broke up laughing.
"Why? What's so funny?"
Westerlake reached over and picked up the wine bottle. Nabiki
held out her glass looking puzzled.
"In America, it is rude to waste your host's liquor once it has
been poured into your glass," Westerlake said as he filled her glass to
the brim, "Your host is expected to ask you if you want a refill."
"Uso!" Nabiki was so shocked she reverted to Japanese saying in
effect "It's a lie."
"No it isn't!" Westerlake said with heartfelt sincerity, "Honto
desu!"
Nabiki started laughing so hard she had to put her glass down.
"So when I kept filling your..." Nabiki said, covering her mouth
with one hand, "Oh, you poor, poor man!"
"It's worse than you imagine," Westerlake said, rubbing his eyes
with both hands, "Sake gives me very realistic nightmares."
"Nightmares?" Nabiki asked her suddenly very sharp, "What sort of
nightmares?"
"Well for one thing, I dreamed there was this panda in your
living room that night."
Nabiki began laughing again.
"A panda?"
"Oh, that ain't the half of it!" Westerlake said with a grin as
he held up his hand, "I dreamed you came in and poured hot water on it."
"And then?" Nabiki asked, her eyes shining brightly.
"And then, it turned into Genma Saotome," Westerlake said with a
shudder, "Why I dreamed that I don't know. I barely know Genma Saotome."
Nabiki was now laughing so hard she was having trouble keeping
her face out of the water.
"Then Genma starts telling this long, long story about how
Ranma-sensei turns into a lovely young girl whenever he gets into cold
water."
Nabiki managed to contain a guffaw, but only at the expense of
turning her face red and making her eyes water.
"I can't remember for sure how all this was supposed to have
happened. Seemed like it was a disease they caught in China or
something? No, no, it was a diseased spring they fell into while they
were in China. Anyway, I had a real hard time picturing Ranma-sensei as
girl."
Nabiki lapsed into the cackle and howl phase.
Westerlake looked at her with a little concern in his face.
"I'm sorry, Biru-san," Nabiki said, gasping for air, "You can't
possibly understand why..."
Nabiki was overcome by another fit of laughter. Finally, she
managed to regain control and took up her wine glass.
"I suppose I'm obligated to finish this, am I not?" she asked with
a impish glint in her eye. She wanted very much to change the subject.
She knew she would never convince him of the truth about Ranma and Genma
without a demonstration. The smart thing to do now would be to change
the subject.
"Only because of Friday night, Nabiki-san," Westerlake said with
an evil smile of his own, "Other times no, not in my house."
"What? You mean you aren't going to try to get me drunk so you can
seduce me?" Nabiki said, feigning hurt feelings.
"My ego would never let me settle for an alcohol assisted
victory," Westerlake said in a serious tone, "If I ever seduce you, I'll
want your fully conscious cooperation."
Nabiki found herself struggling with the English. She sipped at
her wine while her mind raced to remember definitions. Her eyes widened
once she sorted out what he had said. Then she grinned at him knowingly.
"What do you mean, if?" she asked. Her voice held a slight tone
of annoyance, "You undressed me with your eyes the first time you saw
me."
"Yes I did," he said sounding only mildly embarrassed, "but there
was more to it than that."
Westerlake looked right into her eyes and did not blink. Nabiki
felt her heart stop. There he was. The tiger in all his cold, predatory
glory. Marines never defend if they can help it she remembered. They
prefer to always be on the attack. Time to turn the tables, she decided.
If he lost control of himself, so be it. She would take the
consequences, but she had to know the limits of his integrity and the
desire to know right now was overwhelming.
Nabiki got to her feet without bothering with a towel and waded
across the tub. The shock and pleasure registering in his face sent a
shiver up her spine. She sat side-saddle on his right thigh. As soon as
she felt her chest against his, Nabiki knew she had overplayed her hand.
He could do what ever he wanted and he would get her fully conscious
cooperation.
"How much more?" Nabiki whispered against his kneck.
He held her very gently. As though she were made of fine, venetian
glass. Nabiki felt his powerful heart thumping away as her own pulse
quickened. Their kiss was long, deep and fully passionate.
"Enough to say no again," he whispered.
She buried her face in his shoulder letting him caress the nape
of her neck with his lips. After thrilling her in this way for a little
while he stopped and held her close, saying nothing for a long time.
"Your clothes should be dry," he said at last.
Nabiki was outraged. He retreated! It's not fair! she thought. I
just gave us both every excuse in the world and he is not going
to...Wait a minute! He wants a commitment from me first! How did he get
the upper hand?
"You," Nabiki said as she sat up, "are a very exasperating man!"
"That's okay," Westerlake said calmly, "You, are a very
exasperating young woman."
"Fully conscious cooperation isn't enough for you, is it?"
"No, it isn't. I am pretty sure that I am in love with you."
One look at his eyes told Nabiki he was not joking.
"You want me to be in love with you?"
"That's the price," he said coldly, "Take it or leave it."
Now he was the tiger again. Yes! Her body screamed. Go for it! Her
soul said, cheering her on, but Nabiki Tendo's mind was at the helm and
very much in control of Nabiki's rudder. Love meant a loss of freedom
and Nabiki placed an exceedingly high value on her liberty. Falling in
love in Japan meant subservience to a man. Genteel subservience, even if
just for the sake of appearances, was not her calling, nor was she
willing to settle for mere equality.
"I'm not in love with you, Bill," she said shaking her head, "Not
that much."
Not yet, she thought but did not say. He did not flinch, nor did
his eyes change.
"I know," Westerlake said, "but falling in love with me doesn't
have to mean what it might. I'm an American, remember?"
"You have been thinking about this a great deal, haven't you,"
Nabiki said.
Westerlake nodded.
"I sure have," he said, "We have a lot to offer one another but
there are...a few difficulties."
Nabiki leaned back across him forcing him to hold her in his
arms.
"I should make you carry me off to bed just out of spite," she
said.
"No ticky, no washy," Westerlake said with a hard edge to his
voice. Nabiki suspected he was giving himself an order as much as he was
setting a condition for her. She said nothing and simply enjoyed being
held by him for a while.
"I am not going to be both a cad and a cradle robber."
She grinned into his shoulder. No putty here, Nabiki girl, she
thought to herself. The only way she would ever be able to manipulate
this guy would be to marry him, but she was not ready to marry anyone
just yet.
"We barely know each other and..."
"And I'm an old man?" Westerlake asked.
"Well, I wouldn't say old exactly, but..."
"I've been around for two of your lifetimes," he said.
"Yes."
"All the more reason to do things right or do nothing,"
Westerlake said with a note of finality.
"Well if you are going to be that way," Nabiki said, feigning
petulance, "I suppose I should get dressed."
"Good idea!" Westerlake said hoarsely and sounding more than a
little relieved.
Nabiki climbed out of the tub, stood on her tiptoes and stretched
as hard as she could, knowing full well what sort of effect it would
have on Westerlake. I like this kind of torture, she thought. It's fun
and no one gets hurt.
"Do you suppose you could hold that pose long enough for someone
to do a painting?"
"For the right price, sure."
"Have lunch with me, Friday?"
"Why lunch?" Nabiki asked.
"I want to make you an offer."
"About having a painting made? It's going to be very expensive."
"We can talk about that as well if you wish."
"Why not discuss what ever it is now?"
"Pleasure is much too important to mix with business," Westerlake
said as he shifted his weight into a more comfortable position.
"Besides, I doubt that either one of us is at our sharpest at the
moment."
"Are you always so even handed?"
"Not with everyone."
Nabiki was relieved. A man that played fair all the time with
everyone was a fool. There were people in the world who did not deserve
such treatment and would be dangerous if treated in such a way.
"I'll get dressed."
Nabiki took a step towards the glass shoji, then stopped and
looked over her shoulder.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked.
"I'll be along in a minute," Westerlake said sounding
uncomfortable, "I want to let this leg soak for a minute."
"Shall I rub it for you?"
"Ah, no...no, I...I don't think so, ...no," Westerlake stammered,
"I, uh, I'll be fine...in a few minutes...just...fine."
"Has anyone ever told you that you sometimes talk like Jimmy
Stewart?" Nabiki asked, grinning evilly.
"I,uh,I,I...Clothes, Nabiki!" Westerlake said in a loud voice,
"Now!"
She cackled and went on into the house.
The drizzle had gone and the skies were beginning to clear by the
time he walked her home. She wore a pair of his sweat pants to protect
her legs from the cold wind.
He stopped outside the Tendo gate and bowed to her quite formally
and correctly.
"Good night, Tendo-san."
"Good night, Biru-san," Nabiki returned the courtesy without
thinking about it, even though she herself had long ago quit using such
old fashioned formalities.
"See you Friday, Bill!" she called to his departing back.
"Okay," he called back over his shoulder.
"So there you are, One-chan," Ranma said, startling Nabiki half
out of her wits.
"Ranma!" Nabiki said sounding annoyed, "You scared me."
"Sorry, we've been a little worried about you."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, the police have been by here twice wanting to know if you
were all right."
"Uh-oh."
"Yeah and they also wanted to know about Biru-san. Seems a bunch
of guys claimed that Kuno's crocodile ate him."
"It was the other way around I think," Nabiki said, suddenly
remembering that Westerlake had not eaten while she was at his house.
"Oh, yeah?" Ranma asked sounding amused, "Well let's get inside
and out of this wind."
He offered Nabiki his arm and she took it as they strolled back
into the house.
"By the way! I thought you didn't want me gettin' him hurt!"
"That's right," Nabiki said quite calmly, "I don't want you
hurting him. That could be bad for your health."
"Oh! Okay! So long as we got the rules straight," Ranma said with
a laugh.