Act Fifteen – Scene Five: Ghost Waltz
'The night was indeed quite magical, or so it was according to all I have read. The lighting was dim, and the decorations were sweeping gauze swathes that went from the balconies to the large central chandelier that seemed, somehow, to simulate the glow of sunset or twilight, given the color of the room's backdrops. There was music and dancing. Women wore beautiful gowns and the men were all attired in immaculate tuxedos. The only thing that seemed missing to me was a carriage, though I suppose the Gryphon is very close to what would currently pass as one. I truly felt like Cinderella while we were waiting to get in.'
Her curious question follows the two of them all the way from the house and through the Gryphon into the entrance hall of the grand ballroom located in the main dome where Paradigm Corporation's main office buildings were housed, and the innocent words leave Roger feeling lost and confused throughout the early part of the evening as they mingle with the other guests pleasantly. After a short time of milling about, the introductory lines are formed, and the non-MP guests file around to the staff to introduce themselves, as is customary before entering the ball.
"That's a lovely escort you brought with you tonight, Roger Smith," one of the other patrons, a man called David North, says to him. "Wherever did you find her?"
"In the downstairs hallway," Dorothy says in reply, wrapping the dark gray fur tighter around herself with her free hand. Roger glances questioningly at her, not quite sure if she's being sarcastic or not, before he smiles pleasantly at the man in charge of Paradigm's financial holdings. The invitation in his hands has gold lining, and his own arm is empty of an escort. There is a streak of gray in his hair that doesn't quite seem to make him look any older than Roger.
"And a quick wit as well," David smiles at the two of them.
"Dorothy Waynewright, may I introduce you to Mr. David North. Mr. North, Miss Dorothy Waynewright," Roger says, glancing forward at the crowded line to get into the main ballroom.
"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," Mr. North replies, extending a gloved hand to take Dorothy's. Lifting her small hand, he bends to kiss the air just above it.
Dorothy glances askance at Roger.
"And mine as well, Mr. North."
"It was nice to have run into you, Mr. North, but it's our turn to go in," Roger says, glancing suspiciously at the well dressed slightly older man. "Dorothy, say good evening to Mr. North."
"I hope you enjoy the party, Mr. North," she replies, making a near-perfect curtsy to the taller man and tucking her hand more firmly through Roger's arm. David smiles as the two of them progress through the doorway, and as she glances over her shoulder, Dorothy asks, "Did you know that man, Roger? He seemed to make you quite uncomfortable."
"No one special." He stands straight and tall and hands their invitation to the waiting doorman.
"I don't believe you," Dorothy says, tilting her chin from the scrutiny of the black jacketed concierge. Her gloved hand resting securely on Roger's tuxedo-clad forearm. The man, in response, motions the two of them inside.
Eyes raised, Dorothy gets a good look at the overhead decorations as she enters, the large, ornate chandelier casting its soft glowing light down through the tent-like ceiling of strips of gauze. Above the chandelier the ceiling of the ballroom has been masked in black, with small sparkles of some sort catching the soft light. On the polished dance floor couples stand in groups or float over the dance floor, gliding gracefully, the bright colors of the women's winter formal wear vivid against the simple blacks and whites of the men's tuxedos and the gray and navy of the Force uniforms against mirrored doubles moving upside-down.
Unwarranted, a smile spreads across Dorothy's face. "May I take the lady's coat?" a young woman asks with a smile. Turning to look at the woman, the android's eyes widen to see a girl dressed in a bright red dress with white ruff on it. Gently, Roger extends his arm, shrugging out of the long coat and white scarf he has been wearing and handing it to a similarly dressed young man who hands him a ticket.
Letting the wrap loosen and then fall off of her shoulders into the girl's waiting arms, Dorothy adjusts the fall of her dress self-consciously.
"Shall we?" Roger asks, motioning towards the dance floor.
Before Dorothy can reply, Dastun steps over, a friendly smile on his face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you here, Roger."
"It's a special occasion this year, Dastun."
"We're both off duty, Roger."
"You're right, I suppose, Dan."
"That's more like it."
Dorothy turns her eyes to the dance floor and sees Hope and her father. She lifts her hand to the young woman, and in response, Hope bows her head slightly before returning her bored gaze to the conversation her father is having.
"Congratulations on getting those statues back, by the way," Dastun comments, taking two glasses of champagne from one of the passing waiters and handing one to Roger.
"I take it Mr. Dorland was on the guest list to the festivities?" he asks, looking down at Dorothy to see her attention drawn across the dance floor.
"Not specifically," Dastun replies, glancing to the side.
"I see. So who's the lucky lady you decided to bring this year, Dan?"
"No one as beautiful as the one on your arm, Roger. Just an old friend of a friend. She's powdering her nose at the moment."
Glancing momentarily at Dorothy, Roger takes a sip of his champagne. "She has a name, doesn't she?"
"Nadine Fitz," a woman's voice replies before Dastun can. A white gloved hand rests on the shoulder of his dress uniform and Major Dastun turns to include her in the small circle of the three of them talking.
"Miss Fitz, it's quite a surprise to see you here," Roger says.
"If the three of you will excuse me," Dorothy says, taking her hand from Roger's arm gently.
"Dorothy?" he asks in question.
"I would like to get some fresh air."
"If you say so," Roger says, a little confused, but accepting. It doesn't take a rocket scientist, or even someone terribly observant to notice Dorothy's frequent and almost nervous looks from her gloved hands to the dance floor where officers of the Military Police and their escorts or patrons of the ball and their dates were moving gracefully to the music of the band that was playing on the main stage.
The song turns to a waltz as Roger watches Dorothy cross towards one of the staircases, heading for an outdoor balcony.
"Don't worry, Mr. Smith," Nadine says in a quiet voice, "you just make her nervous is all."
"It seems she does the same for him," Dastun comments momentarily, looking at Roger's absorbed expression.