It had been a relatively quiet day so far at the resort for James Anderson.  He’d woken late, had a good morning workout and run, then spent some time at the casino before lunch.  Back in his bungalow now, he stretched his shoulders, trying to loosen some persistently tight muscles.  They refused to relax, though, so with a sigh he keyed the intercom.

“Concierge desk, this is Serin.  How can I help you?” came the reply over the speaker.

James smiled, remembering how helpful she’d been on his arrival.  “Hello Serin, it’s James Anderson.  I know it’s short notice, but is there any chance I could put in for a massage?”

“Of course, Mr. Anderson!  Let me just check the masseuses’ schedules….”  She trailed off, but came back after only a few moments.  “It looks like they have an opening in around a half an hour; is that okay?”

James nodded, not that Serin could see it.  “That works just fine, Serin.  Thanks!”

“You’re quite welcome!  I’ve added you to the schedule; someone will come by in around a half an hour.  Is there anything else I can help you with?” she replied.

“Not at the moment,” James answered.  “Okay!  Well, do let us know if something comes up, and I hope you enjoy your massage!”  With that, she closed the connection.

With his appointment set, James checked in quickly with his counselor; they were quite happy that he seemed to be relaxing, and especially when he told them about his ‘drinking game’ with Michael Angelus – they did caution that using synthehol as a coping mechanism isn’t necessarily the best decision, but were glad that he had told someone outside of a session what had happened on Norfan III.  After the call, he looked up the weather for the evening; it looked clear, a good time for an evening swim.  He also wanted to try the restaurant on the lobby floor of the main resort building; he’d heard it was good, but had been favoring smaller places thus far.

He was browsing the restaurant’s menu when the door to his bungalow chimed.  “Come in,” he called, looking over.  The door opened, and a Deltan woman entered, carrying a small bag.  “Mr. Robinson?” she asked.

James nodded in reply.  “My name is Alania; I’ll be your masseuse this afternoon,” she continued.  “Thanks for coming, Alania,” James responded, putting his PADD down and standing.  “I put myself in your capable hands,” he finished with a smile.

She nodded.  “If you would, please remove your shirt and lie face-down on the bed,”Alania said gently.  James walked into the bedroom, removing his shirt as he did and lying face-down on the mattress.  Alania set her bag on a nearby chair and began to place a few bottles and other supplies on the dresser.  “Have you ever had a massage before?” she asked.

“Not for a while,” James replied.

“That’s quite all right,” Alania said kindly.  “Are there any areas that have been particularly painful or difficult?”

James nodded.  “My neck and right shoulder, lower back, and left leg.”

Alania smiled.  “Well, let’s see about getting you feeling better, then.  Please let me know if you need me to stop or adjust anything.”

She began to apply an oil, focusing on the areas he’d indicated were being problematic, then went to work.  Over the next half-hour or so, Alania gave James a magnificent massage, her fingers deftly finding each persistent knot in his muscles and gently working them loose, including several that he didn’t even realize he’d had.

By the time their session had ended, James felt like a new – well, newer – man, physically far more relaxed than he had felt that morning.  As she packed up, he stood and pulled on a robe, then walked Alania to the door.  “How do you feel?” She asked.

“So much better now, thanks to you!” he replied.  She beamed.  “I’m glad I could help!  Have a good afternoon.”  She rested a hand gently on his forearm for a moment, then left, and James closed the door behind her.  “Wow…” he breathed after she was gone.  “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

James took around 15 minutes just to rest, then stood and dressed for dinner; he looked at his battered leather jacket – the field jacket he’d worn on Norfan III, quickly patched – then decided to leave it where it hung; he lay out some swim trunks and a towel for after dinner, then picked up a civilian-style jacket and put it on as he left for dinner, with a late-night swim in his future as well.