"Uh.. Miss Dominique?" He tried again, knocking loudly upon the plain steel door. The sound ricocheted away down the empty hallway and the man looked over his shoulder at his contact. "Are you sure she agreed to this?" He inquired awkwardly. The bulky hispanic figure behind him grunted and pushed past him, pulling a keycard from his pocket and sliding it through the electronic lock. A quick metallic click later and the door keeled inward under the weight of his thick hand.
"Sure, sure. It'll do her some good." He muttered. "Just don't forget to send payment to the account of Silver.Cassandra"
The odd pair entered and closed the door behind them before surveying the scene. The room was almost pristine, surfaces near-sparkling and not a cushion out of place. Were it not for two bags tucked to the side of the sofa, a suitcase on the table and the soft hiss of a shower from an adjoining room it would be impossible to determine the room was taken.
"I didn't know they even did room service out here on Freeport Nine..." The photographer commented, taking the liberty of a dining chair to rest.
"They don't." Echoed a curt reply. He frowned.
"What then - OCD? S'gotta be the tidiest room on the station..."
The two waited awhile, chatting idly about this and that. Every now and then the Hispanic man would check his watch or data-pad. Eventually the sound of water ceased and the flickering of shadow beneath the bathroom door signalled Cassandra's approach.
"Actually," he began, his voice coarse, "better be quick about this." He nodded towards the door and the cameraman, still intimidated by the fellow, stood up and raised his camera to the ready as the handle turned and the panelled metal door shifted outward.
*Click*
*Click Click*
"Ah! Lady Domini--" His eager introduction was cut short by the fist that slammed into his jaw and sent him recoiling back into the room. Wet hair flowing across her exposed shoulders and body clad in only towel, Cassie shot her guard a stern look as he innocently toyed with his data-pad.
"Andres! Who the hell is this?!" She signalled with her foot to the figure crumpled on the floor beside her.
"Well... He came to me with an offer I couldn't--"
"I don't care. Both of you - Out!" The heap on the floor was happy to comply and made to scurry for the door, but a dripping shin stopped him and a hand pulled the camera free of his grip.
"Nice try, pervert." She encouraged him to keep moving with her foot and clicked free the memory card from the camera.
She considered the chip in her hand for a moment as if able to see the pictures stored within, before walking over to the table, bending down, and crushing it beneath one of the thick metal feet. A muffled welp! drifted in from the corridor as it split into a dozen shards.
"A word please, milady..." Andres dared suggest, closing the door on the photographer and turning to her, trying to avert his gaze from her barely-concealed body.
--
Several long minutes passed before the steel door re-opened and Andres, glad to find the photographer still present, invited him back inside. He dared not decline the bodyguard's suggestion that they continue lest he face further maiming.
"Five million, you say?" Inquired Cassie as he returned to the room, her voice still stern but veiled with an echo of interest. "What are these pictures for?"
"Ju-just a calendar!" He watched awkwardly as she, now fully dressed and miraculously dry, raised an eyebrow. "Totally anonymous! Small distribution, no one will know who you are, honest!" He added in a hurry. Relief coursed through him when she sighed and nodded.
"Alright. Make it quick." She tossed his camera back at him, and he reloaded it with a new memory cartridge with a swiftness akin to a soldier in a warzone.
After several repeated flashes and clicks, his expression fell slightly. Andres leaned in and the two men held a heated, but brief, conversation. Eventually the guard approached his subject and reached towards her.
"Forgive me, milady." He muttered as he awkwardly adjusted her hair, letting it free of it's ponytail and positioning it as per request. "Do this, and stand here, by the wall." he motioned. "No, no, like this. Right."
Finally satisfied, the young photographer took the opportunity to flee the room before Andres' shouts of pain could reach his ears. He didn't wait to ask about a preferred month. Never again.
Ever.
![[Image: bowexbar.jpg]](https://i.postimg.cc/1R6XD32v/bowexbar.jpg)