Code Red (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 7

Nicole poured herself a large whiskey, sitting down at her desk. What if Chrissy hadn't come in? she wondered. What if they had been allowed to finish their dance? Here was a girl in her care and she had slow danced with her. She would have to move Waverly to another house. This wasn't fair on her. Plus, she needed to keep a clear head for the work she was doing. But, those eyes. That body. The movement between them. No, this stops right now, she instructed herself, before it goes too far. She had sensed something from Waverly, but that might be because she was younger, in new surroundings, unsure of herself, looking up to her. Hell, she might even have a boyfriend, or fiancé, for all she knew. This really had to stop.

Those eyes. That body.

Waverly sat in bed. What if Chrissy hadn't come in? she wondered. What if they had been allowed to finish their dance? She had definitely felt Nicole's heart beating faster, as she lay against her. She had felt the way she touched her. Nicole's hand on her back, moving her round the room, body pressed into her, breath on her neck, her scent. She desperately wanted the dance to go on forever. She couldn't tell Nicole how that made her feel. She couldn't tell Chrissy. She couldn't even tell herself.

Those eyes. That body.

"So, is Nikki as good a dancer as I think she is?" Chrissy teased, as Waverly entered the dining room for breakfast.

Waverly froze, not knowing if Chrissy suspected what had gone on the night before. She made her way to the table, sitting down, picking up a slice of toast, wondering what to say.

"Well, is she?" Chrissy persisted.

"She's quite good," Waverly replied, unable to look Chrissy in the eye. "Not as good as you, though."

"Knew it. I am rather good, even if I say so myself."

Nicole entered the room, grabbing a slice of toast, buttering it quickly. She didn't look at Waverly. "Alan will pick us up shortly," was all she said, turning to leave the room.

"Would it be alright if we popped into town on Saturday?" Chrissy asked. "I need to see if I can buy stockings for the dance. Left my good pair at home."

Nicole paused at the door, her back turned to them, contemplating the request. She turned. "You may not be able to find any, unfortunately. There's quite a shortage at the moment."

"Looks like I'll be painting my legs then with gravy browning," Chrissy grumbled. "Such a waste of good food."

"I can ask Alan. He has a contact at the American Embassy. Usually good for these sort of things. Waverly, would you like a pair?" Nicole added, turning her gaze briefly towards her. Those eyes. That body.

"Yes. Thank you."

Saturday arrived. The girls were busy getting ready. Waverly had her prettiest frock laid out ready to put on. She sat in her dressing gown finishing her hair and make-up, nervous about the evening ahead, excited at the same time. It would be her first dance and she was now looking forward to it. Chrissy had continued to teach her the basic steps. She felt she could at least keep up a little better. The pace of swing music had seeped into her soul and she was looking forward to an evening with her friend. Nicole had mentioned she and Alan would be going as chaperones, given this was the girl's first dance. She hadn't made any more offers of dance lessons. She seemed distracted, more distant since the evening of the slow dance.

There was a knock on her bedroom door. Waverly assumed it was Chrissy, come to borrow yet another piece of make-up. The door opened. Nicole had a pair of stockings in her hand. She looked uncomfortable. Not her usual confident self. "Alan's contact came through. He got you these," holding out the silk stockings.