Near eleven thirty in the evening, Amira padded out of her bedroom on her way to find something to drink. The door to her private office- temporarily having been converted to Viridia's bedroom- was open just slightly, and she could see the young woman sprawled on her bed with a book of some kind still laying open beside her.
Smiling, Amira crept out of the suite as quietly as she could so she wouldn't risk waking her.
Just as she reached the stairs leading to the second floor, Spencer was coming up from the landing.

"You're up late." he said, looking a little surprised to see her.

"The wind woke me. That tree beside my window will sometimes scratch the glass and it wakes me; and now I'm thirsty."

"I see." Spencer looked back down the stairs from the direction he'd just come. "Feel like some company?"

A slow smile spread onto Amira's face, and she nodded, then headed down the stairs and met Spencer, then the two proceeded together down to the second floor. They crossed the silent corridor to the butler's stairs that led to the kitchen. It was dark, and Spencer went in first and flipped on the light switch. Both knew their way around the large kitchen, even though food was usually prepared by staff. Within a few minutes, they both had a cold glass of milk and sat side by side on a pair of stools at a prep table.

For a few moments, Amira hesitated to say what was on her mind; but something about what she'd learned about her friend and bodyguard that morning had stuck fast in the back of her mind. So, after a drink of her milk, she put the glass down and turned fully to look at him.

"You were in Japan when the bombs were dropped, weren't you?" She saw his posture change.

Spencer took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded once. 

"We were in  prison camp in Kagawa. None of the damage stretched that far, but we heard it, and we saw the cloud. The men with me...we knew what it was and we knew what it meant. But still...."

He shook his head, his eyes distant. Amira recognized the look- and knew the feeling. She reached over and touched his arm very gently.

​​​​"We don't have to talk about it anymore. I just thought...well, going through something like that, the prison camp and then the bomb, that kind of ordeal can't be  something someone just gets over and leaves behind."

He didn't reply, but she saw in the way his eyes softened that he followed where she was going.
"That's why you didn't quit like the others did when I...wasn't myself. You knew."

Amira looked down at her glass, perhaps a bit shyly. Spencer had seen catastrophe and loss take her from a young and naive girl to a wild-eyed killer in less than a year; and when others had quit, Spencer hadn't moved. Now, Amira fully understood why; and she owed him something for what he'd done.
Leaving the glass on the table, Amira stood up and put her arms around Spencer's shoulders.

"Thank you, Spence."

At first, he stiffened fit a moment, unsure of how to react. Then, his hands came up and took hold of her arms, and his frame relaxed against her. In that moment, they were not employer and employee anymore; but two survivors sharing the deep peace of knowing that, finally, someone understands.

When their drinks were finished and glasses put away, Spencer walked Amira back up to the third floor. At the door to her suite, Amira looked at the clock at the end of the hallway.

"See you at nine, I suppose. Unless you think we should leave earlier?"

Spencer shook his head."Nah, we'll have plenty of time. It's a Sunday. Not much traffic."

"Ok. Goodnight then."

"Goodnight."

The two looked at each other for a few lingering moments, then both turned and went their own ways for the evening.