Langston, Madame's house bouncer, was a tall, black man, of formidable size. He was the man she trusted the most, and he arrived every evening for the few hours that were busiest for the house ladies. With his stern expression and calm demeanor, he said little, and did little, simply standing aside should he be needed.

When they were first introduced, Vanessa displayed very obvious shock and fear – Madame could only assume that the girl had never come so close to someone so frighteningly powerful before. Actually, Vanessa had always thought the man to be a regular. Seeing him upon meeting, during early hours when no man visited, she was startled to wonder what a client was doing in the house at that hour, and why Madame so abruptly called her to face him. As expected of her, she curtsied to Langston, though she couldn't help but let her eyes avert from his, flitting upon his person quite rudely.

"Lucky you," Madame began with tight lips, drawing on her cigarette, "Langston is off to see family in July, and word has come from Dr. Moriko, with such low a price that the remains of your money will pay the surgeon, steamer fare for two, both ways, and Langston's fees."

Vanessa collected her thoughts and stared down at the man's shoes – scuffed brown boots, probably toma leather. "Madame, may I ask why I'm paying for a client's travels, no offense sir…"

"None taken," he replied, in his deep, deep voice. "But I am not a client."

"Langston's our bouncer, I am amazed you hadn't noticed that yet." Madame sighed.

"I have seen you here, I thought you were a client," Vanessa near-whispered. "What is a bouncer?"

"As I said, the girl is odd; quite thoroughly odd," Madame continued, holding her cigarette gracefully between her long, thin fingers. "Even sand steamers are dangerous for a traveling girl; alone you would surely be robbed of your money before reaching the good doctor. Langston will accompany you and ensure your safety."

"Madame, I have traveled alright on my own," Vanessa argued, still staring at the boots. Such large, formidable boots.

"Vanessa, I have been around long before you and perhaps will long after you, and I know this planet better than you could ever hope, or ever want to know," Madame snapped, tiring of the girl quicker than in the past. "A woman cannot trust a man, but you may trust Langston quite completely, I assure you. I want you to the doctor and back safely, pretty, to start your new life here. This is in our best interests, us 3 all. Understood?"

Not replying, not because she didn't understand (because she did) but because she didn't agree, Vanessa kept her head bowed low and listened to Madame's instructions for the trip. It was her thought that since this was her own money, she should make her own decisions, but clearly the world did not operate like that. People were all flawed, were none to be trusted. She wanted to travel alone. No matter what Madame said, Langston frightened her and she knew she wouldn't have wanted to trust her travels and her money to a man half his size, anyways.

OXO

In those times, sand steamers were small contraptions that could only travel at half the rate of a modern sand steamer. They were powered by a single bulb, but said bulb's output was small, as anything intense would break down the structure of the steamer itself. Routes were changed often, as could more easily be done with smaller vehicles, and robberies were less common. Steamers hadn't yet the size and wealth to contain anything but third class, and all tickets were high. Everyone piled in, elbow to elbow, with no seats or rooms save a restroom that emptied to the rushing ground. Luckily, food and drink was available onboard, and one could catch sleep by resting on the cold, metal floor. Vanessa and Langston were two of just one hundred fifty passengers on the steamer from October to July, on a 5-day trip.

In her boredom, Vanessa longed for the thick book she'd been convinced to leave at the house, though she didn't dare speak to her companion. Instead, she studied the other passengers closely from under her cloak hood. She didn't want to let her guard down, but it was impossible not to rest. Making a point to nap with her hood covering her, sitting up as though she were awake, she never rested when Langston was.

She feared for her money when he closed his eyes, as he did often, but she noted that he woke straight-away if even a fly dared touch his person. Her money was safe.

Since departing for the steamer days ago, she heard Langston's breath and voice betray subtle hints of a conversation-starter. But she dreaded speaking to him, and only replied in one-word statements or pretended to be sleeping, and thus Langston stopped attempting to talk to her after the first day.

Her fear subsided some with time. He was like a mountain of a man, a boulder against the wall beside her, an inch or two away but never touching. Every man who entered the house in October was a client – why was this man not? How could she trust him? Why, he could obviously snap her like a twig if he should so desire to, and being male she saw no reason to think him kinder than that. He could not be trusted, but she found that his size did not bother her so much as his gender.

OXO

On the last night, Vanessa was startled from a nap by a sound she couldn't identify, nor did the dark of night allow her to see the source of. From her corner of the steamer, she heard the man to her left whimper slightly, and it sounded as though Langston's breathing was quicker than usual. She peeked from beneath her hood to see what was about.

Langston's face was drawn up so cruelly that she startled backwards and hit her head back against the wall. The man's nostrils were flared some, mouth drawn tightly shut, with deep breaths forcing out the nose. His brows were drawn almost touching together in the middle, and his eyes glittered with malice. But he did not meet her gaze for long, and soon stared to her left, in the direction of the simpering man.

Evidently, her own breath quickened, and Langston must have heard it over the purr of the steamer engine and the slumbering sounds of the other passengers in this corridor. He turned back to Vanessa and his face softened some. "Did he hurt you?" he whispered as though holding back anger.

Hesitating, Vanessa glanced about and she began to piece things together. "I feel fine," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

He stood and took one step over her, to squat back down on the other side of her. The man at her left made a hasty escape toward the far end of the steamer, eliciting angry sounds from passengers he nudged on his way. Taking the man's place, Langston breathed out a large breath and wiped sweat from his brow.

Thinking for many minutes before saying anything, Vanessa's curiosity overtook her. "What did he…?"

"Reaching for you with not the purest intentions on his face," Langston whispered, staring off.

"What did you-"

"I uglied him some, taught him a lesson. Now you speak, eh?"

Vanessa felt a bit of embarrassment at that. "That is what I have paid you to do?"

"Part of it," Langston admitted in his low, bass whisper. "Steamer fare has covered most of my fee. But I am being paid for what I would do gladly for free, if a man could live that way."

"If I were strong as you, I think I would be better off," she thought aloud.

"Don't envy me; perhaps you are better off. I think it would be better to be a pretty girl than to be in a body that frightens everyone. To sleep, now, no need to wake anyone further."

Biting her lip from the things she suddenly felt the need to say, Vanessa's heartbeat wouldn't calm.

"If you were to talk to me in the daylight, I think that would be more pleasant," he added, then folding his arms took to a light nap.