Pam woke an hour before the alarm went off – she spent the extra hour lounging on bed, trying to fill her mind with the thoughts of the impending appointment to ward off the obstinate drossiness. At one point, her drowsiness won over her attempts to stay awake and she dozed off as her mind tricked up a dream of her already setting off for his home; she was just a few minutes through this blissful journey when, mercifully, the alarm finally went off. Tapping it off on her phone, she dragged herself to sit up on the bed, not risking to stay sprawled all over the bed on a Saturday morning after a week of hard-work. "Mr. Freud cannot be more right…dreams are guardians of sleep indeed…since I was already on my way, I would not even have bothered waking up at all and would end up sleeping till tomorrow, had it not been for the alarm." Pam thought with almost a smile. "But for today I can't afford to let my dreams babysit my sleep." And she climbed out of bed, ready to start the day out of the box.

Pam hoped that the floral print spaghetti-strapped midi dress she sported was not too dressy for the occasion. The weather was much brighter earlier that day, but now as she was walking towards the address he gave her, the thick grey nimbostratus clouds had taken it henceforth from the sun, who seemed to have called it a day. The address was much further away from the nearest bus stop; Pam just wished to reach it before it started to pour out. She began to doubt that her idea of wearing a pair of heel sandals was favourable. But she wanted to look and feel very feminine – there were not many opportunities over the weeks to look exquisitely feminine and her weekends were mainly spent sleeping and pursuing hobbies indoors. She was in the mood of representing herself outside the less flattering bagginess of her uniforms. By the time the map on her smartphone showed that she was less than a minute away, a few drizzles were already trickling down her head. Her pace quickened to avoid looking like a fright, although the good few seconds that remained barely helped. She found herself into a sidewalk that apparently led to the address – she recalled that the digital map would only lead her so far, as he mentioned earlier; for the rest of the way, she had to follow his instructions. She followed the left branch of the sidewalk which opened into a beautiful hedge on either side; this branch merged into what seemed to be a designated parking area. She could not help but admire how fantastically juxtaposed the colourful blooms on the hedges appeared under the scarce shower and gloomy ambiance. According to what she was told, she was to walk further in, leaving the parking space behind her – and to take a final right turn to find the spiral staircase. A Harley Davidson was gracefully parked in a shade a few yards beside the staircase. As Pam wound her way up, the drizzles now picked tempo and showered significantly on Pam, just as she climbed the few remaining steps and hurried inside the door that was generously left open. She got herself in a corridor, with two doors on each side. Number 9 was at the very end. She reached up to fix her hair as a final touch, but all she felt was a cold wetness on top of messy curls pulled up in a bun; she imagined what a ghastly image she was exhibiting, but realised it was too late to be bothered now. As she moved through the corridor, a beautiful soft melody drifted across from behind the furthest door – and all thoughts of how she looked vanished. No sooner was she strung in the simple yet intricate tunes of the Scottish folk song, than she felt spooled nearer to door 9. She did not want to ruin the sublime dreaminess of the moment so created from the music, hence she thought better of knocking the door; instead, she gently pushed against it – and to her utter surprise, it swung on its hinges effortlessly, revealing the back profile of the musician behind a magnificent grand piano. Pam tiptoed from behind him and quietly stood at one side. After stroking his elegant improvisation at the final measure, Nathan looked up at Pam, who was gazing at him, awestruck.

"Sorry for sneaking in, but I didn't want to interrupt", Pam managed to say.

"Morning Pam…" his eyes softly washed over her. "You look very beautiful. And you didn't sneak in, you were expected …I left the door open," no words ever wrecked havoc on her as explosive as those three words of "you were expected" did, soft and husky in his deep baritone.

"Why thanks." Pam blushed the cold droplets warm on her cheeks. That was the best arrangement for Loch Lomond that I heard; it literally sounded like a lullaby from a music box. I am glad I managed not to fall asleep on the corridor, although I was close." Splitting his stubbly face into a priceless grin, he stood up and elaborately bowed to her with theatrical grace. As he straightened to his full height, Pam could not help but take in the splendid sight that was presented in front of her; his long legs were clad in black cotton slacks, while the sleeves of his relaxed-fit white tartan flannel shirt dropped all the way beyond his wrists; the placket of his shirt parted fairly deep, revealing some twirls of chest hair that grew denser deeper in the V – as Pam imagined how dense his chest hair would turn out if the plackets were completely parted, she could feel a sharp throb seize at somewhere very delicate and she had to use all her might to stop her hand that dreadfully tried to clutch down there.

"I see that you were greeted by the rain," Nathan eyed her wet locks. "You are quite wet and seem to be cold." Pam smiled shyly, thinking of the irony of the situation. Soon her smile turned into one of embarrassment as she realised the wet mess she might be sporting.

"Uh…yeah…the rain was quite unexpected today…" Sensing her awkwardness, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and looked at her in the eye as he said "Don't you worry – you made it here – you are safe," the intensity of his eyes grew stronger as he said the last three words. "I'll arrange for you to dry up and be comfortable; by the way – where is your chaperon?" he chuckled mischievously as he intuited that she was unaccompanied.

"They were too big to come through the door so they are waiting downstairs, all armed and armoured!" Pam pulled a comically serious expression.

"In the rain!" They both burst into a laughter.

"I don't need a chaperon, Nathan."

His expression went blank and then a medley of gratitude, reverence and compassion washed over him as he was deeply moved by the trust she confided him with. He wanted to thank her for her trust and also for the fact that it would help greatly to concentrate knowing that they were not under the scrutiny of unwanted attention. But he just nodded, with a profound acknowledgement of appreciation.

"You make yourself comfortable," he gestured towards a couch, "I will grab you a hair-dryer." As he disappeared into an adjacent room, Pam walked to the couch and settled herself there; she looked around to find the amply spacious yet modestly furnished living space pretty impressive. The grand piano adorned centrally, while the couch was placed against a far wall; one corner had a small table and two chairs, which seemed to be a designated area for an improvised dining arrangement; beside the couch was a full length window. She walked up to the piano and traced a finger along the main lid – "elegance fell in love with minimalism," she mused admiration over his artistically simplistic predilection in interior decor, then strolled towards the window to look out at the hedges she saw on her way. Darkness loomed much more saturated and the rain was now showering down quite heavily – the wind had a much sharper edge that was almost cutting through her thin layers. On the glass plane of the partially opened window, a pair of emerald eyes reflected off against the showering greys; albeit Pam's eye contact with the reflection was but very brief, she felt certain that his eyes were all over her. With her now undone wet hair pulled at one side on the front, she sensed a pleasurable heat that emanated from his stare and proximity on her almost bare upper back. At the moment nothing felt more perfect than to feel his warmth at her back that radiated throughout her body, while the chilly wind caressed her face as she was taking in the beautiful scene of the colourful blooms dancing in the rain. Nathan tapped on the glass, nudging her out of the reverie. She twirled around to find him holding out a hair-dryer at her. Bedazzled, she took it from him and mumbled some words of thankfulness, which made but half sense.

"You get yourself dry," Nathan said as he closed the window and pulled the curtains, hurling them into total darkness before moving sideways to switch on a light – but before he could reach the switch, one of Pam's heels somehow got tangled in the wire of the hair-dryer, tossing her off balance; Nathan whirled around just at the nick of time, catching her in his arms before she drastically landed headfirst on the floor. For a good few moments, they both remained frozen at the spot – Nathan held on tightly around her shoulders and waist, sensing that she still did not regain her balance; as for Pam, she was yet to come back on the world of the living. Gradually her horror-stricken face was swept with discomfiture as she realised how artfully awkward she was positioned – arms clutched around his shoulders, one foot barely touching the floor while the other was flung up in the air past him, with the leg completely bared from her little stunt. Her eyes slowly adjusted in the dark to form the shape of his concerned face looking down at her – the whole stance of them entwined this way with Nathan carefully hovering on top of her felt – not so eerily anymore – familiar. Gently he helped her on her feet, although he still had his supporting hands at her waist, allowing her to readjust her balance; she did not yet feel ready to drop her arms – with heels, she could just about reach his shoulders with her forearms. As the moments passed, it became apparent that the reason they held on to each other had little to do with Pam's balance; a strange tension hung in the air as they stood in silence in the dark, some distant radiance with unknown source playing enigmatic shades over his face. The F major scale began to play metaphorically, each note drawing them closer to each other – it was rocket science for neither to realise what the final resolving note would be. But before the strike of that long expected final note, Nathan was stabbed with the realisation that they had a mission to accomplish. Heaving out an exasperated sigh and with a remorseful smile, Nathan withdrew from her and turned to switch the light on. The resolving note can…perhaps wait?