Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, only the plot. Friendly reviews and constructive criticism appreciated.
xxxxx
She was going to die.
Spots appeared before her eyes and refused to dissipate. Her heart was racing. Red-faced, her chest heaved as she struggled to fill her lungs with air. She would have signaled for help, but there was no reserve strength for such an action. Tears began to stream down her eyes.
It hurt too much. Her entire being trembled, rigid as spasms upon spasms wracked her body. Why wasn't she dead yet? Asphyxiation was imminent.
A hearty slap on the back caused her to gasp and she managed to suck in more air before being overcome with laughter once again.
Heero Yuy eyed his charge with slight unease. He was already uncomfortable with the present situation, and her behavior was doing nothing to help. When her face slowly changed from bright red to purple, he grabbed hold of her head with both hands and applied pressure until her eyes were on his. "Calm down. You are twenty-three, for Christ's sake, not seven. I will not have you hyperventilating because of...of..." He faltered, gesturing to the performance before them. "Because of an immature food fight and well-timed punchlines."
Relena Dorlain's glare rivaled his own as she caught her breath. "It was your idea to come here. Since I paid for the tickets and the food and the carnival games, I expect you to let me enjoy myself. Even if that includes hyperventilation. Besides, you didn't even win me a prize." She removed his hands and leaned forward to watch the rest of the act, laughing even louder to spite him. Despite her poise and elegance in the political arena, she was not above indulging in such childish acts around Heero.
Her bodyguard and best friend scowled at her profile, but she took no notice so he contented himself with doing an unblinking surveillance of their vicinity – mostly to reassure himself that Relena was safe, but partly to keep from replying that it was her fault they were here. And Trowa's, indirectly. A month before, Heero had delivered the quarterly report for his department to Lady Une and her aides, as well as Relena, which had been coincidental. Though the Vice Minister had been a key factor in the creation of the Preventers organization, as well as employing several Preventers as bodyguards, she had little to do with how they operated and did not sit in on their meetings.
What did any of this information have to do with the two of them being at the circus this very instant?
During the meeting, Heero had brought up that although Trowa Barton did not work within his department, he would like to be informed when his comrade's Preventer status changed from 'on-call' to 'civilian'. Relena could count the times she had met the mysterious pilot of Heavyarms on one hand, but she had recalled that his original cover was the role of an acrobat. That led to an aside about how she had never been to the circus. She had then proceeded to duck her head and apologize for her interjection.
What brilliant plan had been seeded in his brain from that easily forgettable comment?
Why, taking her to the circus, of course! In truth, she was in need of a vacation, even if it was for one day. Her last day off had been well over a year ago; to the chagrin of her small family, she had been forced to work through two of her own birthdays and the winter holiday that occurred in between. The plan would never have crossed his mind if it weren't for a certain emerald-eyed acquaintance of his.
Damn Trowa for deciding to be a clown of all things.
So here they were. He glanced over at her once more. She had calmed down, but she was still giggling. He just didn't understand why people found clowns so amusing. Others found them terrifying; it only served to confuse him further.
Heero had asked Trowa what made clowns so funny once. His response had been less than enlightening: "Maybe you should come to the circus some time." For some reason, the Perfect Soldier had never gotten around to it.
Until now.
As the clowns made a comical exit, the bright lights dimmed to movie theater darkness. The final act was beginning. Bass drums thundered within the confines of the huge tent and spotlights blazed multicolored paths across the ground. A rectangular slab of wood – a few inches larger than an average door – had been mounted to a metal frame in such a way that it looked almost like a makeshift inversion table on wheels and was hauled to the center of the ring by two clowns, metal chains dragging in the dirt. Another clown carried a large piece of heavy black canvas.
He watched as the workers set up for the routine he had come to see. Trowa had mentioned that he and Catherine had concocted a new stunt when Heero called to make arrangements for Relena to go to the show . Knowing those two, it wouldn't be short on thrills. Their last project had been perfecting the Veiled Wheel trick. Since 1930 AD only 23 couples had performed it with any success.
The circus's claim to fame was the knife-throwing act. Catherine had received the chance to learn the art of impalement from a master that was willing to travel with the circus while he taught her. She couldn't believe her luck. She trained every day for two years before he deemed her a master. It had been a happy day for her, to say the least. Since then, she and Trowa had changed up their routines on a regular basis. It became the most popular act within weeks. Before anyone knew it, they were one of the most popular circuses in existence and had remained that way. More than a few performances had been graced by the presence of celebrities.
Whistling and risque compliments came close to drowning out the drums as Catherine and Trowa stepped into the center of the ring, arms raised to their audience. Relena was checking a new message labeled 'urgent' on her PDA and didn't look up, but Heero's attention did not waver from the siblings below. He was shocked out of silence. "What the fuck."
The knife-throwing master wore a forest green bikini top under a short-sleeved fitted shrug. Her arms were encased in elbow-length fingerless gloves. The rest of her torso was bared until the beginning of a garter skirt that hugged her frame, resting low on her hips. The color matched her bra. A tassel fringe, the same deep gold as her shrug, hemmed the skirt all the way around. Her ensemble was completed with sheer black seamed thigh highs and strappy green heels.
The target wore his half mask, loose-fitting pants with stripes to match his sister's colors...and nothing else.
Heero's abrupt obscenity pulled the Vice Minister's attention back to the circus. She glanced at her bodyguard and her face broke out into a grin. Snickering, Relena reached over to clamp his jaw shut. He looked dumbfounded with his eyes wider than she had ever seen them. He didn't seem to register her presence. "What's gotten into y –"
Without taking his eyes off of the performers, he grabbed her chin and wrenched her head straight. Her eyes flitted between Catherine and Trowa, coming to rest on the latter. He had been the clown wearing the ridiculous rainbow-colored wig, oversized pants and the half-mask. She sucked air in through her mouth sharply when she realized that she recognized the target. She tore her eyes away from the former Gundam pilot to glare at Heero for not telling her this was Trowa's circus, but then her eyes strayed back to the picture of masculine perfection below, resisting the urge to lick her lips. She was parched all of a sudden.
Relena was naturally modest about her feelings toward the opposite sex (almost a prude, if you wanted Dorothy's professional opinion), but there were times when she would catch herself checking out guys on her way to work or during lunch. One time, Duo swore she had nearly drooled. Now was one of those times. No matter how badly she may have wanted to, or how rude it was to stare, she could not stop drinking in the sight of the former Gundam pilot.
She didn't really want to.
She had seen Heero and Duo with their shirts off countless times. Even Wufei, during her martial arts lessons. Relena knew they were handsome men, but it didn't seem like anything to get worked up over. This guy, her brain had apparently decided, you are going to get worked up over. Her body felt tingly, a sweet ache tugging in the pit of her stomach. She squirmed in her seat.
Trowa was beautiful. No other word came to mind. His chestnut hair shone softly in the blue and purple light and his one visible eye gleamed as he scanned the crowd. For the length of two heartbeats it seemed that he gazed right at her, but then his head turned, body following, and he was allowing himself to be strapped to the door. Though relaxed, Relena could see the contours of his sculpted arms, chest and abdomen clearly. Broad shoulders, narrow hips. A swimmer's body.
That idea led to one involving Trowa and water and she blushed, shaking her head in bemusement at her own thoughts. She hardly knew the man!
The two clowns that had brought out the contraption Trowa was now strapped to began the task of unfolding the canvas. Relena's eyes widened in response to her realization that they were going to cover him with it. Catherine wouldn't be able to see her target! They lifted the canvas to drape it over the door.
Gasps and murmurs of shock raced through the audience when the third clown stepped behind Catherine with a silky black scarf. The knife thrower held still while the scarf was draped across her eyes and secured in place with a tight knot. The Vice Minister and her bodyguard were both staring with gaping mouths as the black canvas covering the target was secured shut with snaps at the bottom. The two clowns rose and positioned themselves on either side of the contraption.
The clown assisting Catherine held up a large wooden box for the audience to see. She flipped open the lid to reveal a set of twelve transparent, almost boring-looking, throwing knives. The only interest they held was the odd, mesmerizing way they reflected rainbows when light hit them."Where in the hell did she get those?" Heero hissed through clenched teeth. Relena glanced over, startled.
"Those knives?" Her voice betrayed her confusion. "They look like they belong in a silverware drawer."
His answer was drowned out by cries of excitement and fear. People all around them were pointing at the ceiling of the tent and so they tilted their heads back to see what the fuss was about. It took Relena a second to grasp the situation. Thick wooden boards dangling from some transparent rope-like material were being lowered by acrobats balancing on the tight rope like a murder of crows on a telephone wire.
"Are they nuts?" Relena demanded. The boards swayed gently, creating a staggered maze between Catherine and Trowa. Some of the boards had holes the size of large dinner plates cut out of them. Her hand clamped down on Heero's arm at the same time Catherine's hands were placed on the box containing the knives. She drew them out and held the blades between her fingertips, curving her palm so that they gave the appearance of being a fan.
The clown touched Catherine's shoulder and backed away. The drums stopped abruptly. A blanket of silence fell upon the tent. The knife thrower yelled, "Go!" The acrobats rocked their bodies in a natural rhythm, causing every other board to swing in the opposite direction as the others. The clowns began to spin the door. Soon it was nothing but a black blur.
Heero watched streaks of light that had been knives at one point twist, curve and dance to their target. Though he watched the display with his own eyes, his brain was having difficulty understanding that it was humanly capable to throw knives in a way that gave them life. What other explanation could there be for the way they narrowly avoided obstacles and stuck in the rotating door without bouncing off? It was almost too much to believe and he had seen a lot.
The exhibit lasted a mere five minutes, but it was safe to say that those 300 seconds had stunned even the most skeptical of viewers, especially when Catherine walked over to her target, retrieved a knife and sliced a Trowa-shaped hole in the canvas – still wearing the blindfold. She pulled the loose fabric down to reveal both her brother and the fact that he had caught one of her knives with his teeth.
Up until Trowa was released from his chains, the tent had remained consumed by silence. The spell was broken when his sister slid the knife from between his teeth and used it to cut her blindfold away. They took the blaring noise of shouts, whistles and applause in stride, bowing repeatedly to all, with Catherine blowing kisses.
Relena had been cheering from her seat, but stood after the people in front of her blocked her sight. She looked down at Heero to see if he was bothered by the obstructed view and glared when she found him slouched in his seat, legs sprawled before him and hands cupped behind his head. Regardless of the Duo-esque pose, which was oddly endearing, she felt he should be applauding his comrade and the knife thrower.
"Can't you at least pretend to be awed?" she shouted in his ear, tugging on his jacket collar. The noise swelled to a deafening roar as the entire circus troupe filled the ring and took bows. He refused to budge from his seat, even after the large crowd began to disperse. "Show's over," Relena reminded him. "Aren't we leaving?"
"I told Trowa that we would spend some time with him and Catherine after the show," Heero replied with a smirk. Now that most potential threats had evacuated the premises, the bodyguard stood down before the best friend, though the only noticeable difference between the two was he suddenly had a personality.
Her face was neutral as she nodded. "That sounds lovely," she said, standing. She had to struggle not to clench her hands around his neck. "I hope they have tea."
"It won't be that fancy stuff that Quatre drinks," he warned as he led her down the bleacher steps.
"Because that matters," she snapped, her voice sarcastic. The irritation she had suppressed earlier was seething through her entire body. How dare he put her in yet another unexpected situation!
She was pleased as punch that he had thought to take her out and she didn't completely mind the idea of chatting with some of Heero's friends. It was only awful because in a matter of minutes she had developed a crush and was now going to be forced to talk to him.
Relena shook her head. A crush. How juvenile.
Heero looked at her warily. Relena seldom became angry. When she did, it was unpleasant for everyone involved. "I know that I should have told you my complete agenda," he admitted, grabbing hold of her elbow to slow her down. "I don't see why this is affecting you so negatively."
"Gee, maybe because I just realized that Trowa is drop-dead gorgeous and I don't even know him." Horrified, she slapped both hands over her mouth. "You are not allowed to tell him I said that," she hissed, glaring up at him. "I mean it. Not one word, Yuy."
Heero maintained his hold on her and his silence as they walked. He did not trust himself to say something placid. Not for the first time, he appreciated his vigorous training. Having a poker face had never come in handy as often as it did when he had to try not to laugh at Relena. They stepped over the knee-high barrier that outlined the arena and paused. Heero's eyes scanned the faces of various troupe members, searching for a certain pair of siblings.
Trowa noticed and raised his arm, standing near the back of the tent by a large ice chest filled with bottles of water and soda. Catherine was crouched low to the ground, fiddling with the buckles on her shoes. "I hate these shoes," she complained, craning her neck to look up at her little brother. "If only they weren't so awesome."
"The price you pay for sex appeal," he deadpanned and she swatted his leg. "They're here."
She managed to free her feet from the wicked stilettos and stood. She looked Heero up and down with a critical eye. "Did you come to apologize for brainwashing Trowa into killing himself?" Relena could hardly keep her eyes from ping-ponging between the two, her facial features held in a careful mask to hide her shock when Heero blanched and Catherine laughed. The woman certainly had a unique way of greeting people.
The knife thrower turned to the her next. "Minister Dorlain, it is an honor and a pleasure to have you attend our show," she welcomed with a cheerful smile, and held out her right hand. With her left, she nudged her brother in the ribs. "Isn't that right? My name is Catherine, by the way. I assume you have already met the famous Trowa Barton?"
Relena could only nod as she shook hands. The chatty woman's sunny disposition was infectious; in seconds, a grin was spreading across her face. "Please, just call me Relena. I hear enough of 'Minister Dorlain' this and 'Miss Dorlain' that at work. It grows tiresome quickly."
"Well, Relena, what do you think of our circus? I've heard a rumor that this is your first time to one."
"Is that so?" Relena sent Heero a dark look before adding, "Unfortunately, that rumor has truth to it, but...I loved it! The animals, the trapeze artists and tightrope walkers, the clowns..." She laughed, remembering the hilarious act. "And of course you two were simply amazing. I thought my heart dropped below my stomach when that clown blindfolded you." She paused, realizing that she was beginning to babble. "Um, I like your knives," she finished lamely.
"Thanks. They were a gift from Trowa." Catherine gave the man a tender look, eyes shining with adoration. He graced her with a small smile in return. Relena's own smile slipped and Heero pinched her arm. Their eyes met and she gave a slight nod of understanding, forcing her lips to stretch back into a grin.
'Of course he has a girlfriend,' she told herself sternly. 'Get over yourself, Dorlain.'
"I want to examine those knives," Heero stated and his tone brooked no room for argument. A cryptic look was shared between him and Trowa. Relena caught the subtle nod toward her, but refrained from commenting.
"You could at least say please," Catherine grumbled, after looking to Trowa to see if there was something wrong. Whatever she read in his eyes reassured her. "They've been taken to my trailer. Come on. I have to change anyway." Before he could protest, she had his arm looped through hers. "We can catch up on the way. It's been nearly a decade since I've seen you." He shot Relena a bewildered glance, beseeching her for help.
Justice was served! "Be on your best behavior," she warned, shaking a finger at him mockingly. When they had retreated, she realized that aside from a handful of people cleaning up the bleachers, she was alone with Trowa. She racked her brain for something to say.
He spoke first.
"I need to change." He turned in the direction Catherine and Heero had left and twisted his head to look back at her as though waiting for something. Relena didn't move. Times that she found herself without a clue as to what she should do were few and far between, but this was shaping up to be one. She doubted it would be appropriate to follow him, but she was uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in the dim, mostly empty tent.
The thought in and of itself was sheer lunacy. It felt like she wished she could just dismiss everyone and be alone twenty times a day. Now, confronted with her first chance at real solitude in years, she found herself to be reluctant. It was just too funny.
She bit her tongue to keep from laughing lest he think her insane, but it hurt her 100% more than it helped. Giggles poured forth and she was helpless to stop the onslaught. Her poor mind had been through too much this night. It passed quickly and she tried not to be obvious about her labored breathing.
She sneaked a peak at Trowa and was mortified to find him still watching her, his expression blank. Since he wasn't offering up any hint as to what he expected her to do, it was clear that she would have to take charge. She started by clearing her throat. "Excuse me, I had a funny thought." She gestured behind her to the bleachers. "I'll just sit there until Heero comes back."
"Suit yourself." He continued on his way. Relena headed to the closest seat and perched lightly on the edge, smoothing her khaki skirt.
"See? This isn't so bad," she murmured under her breath. Her heart had just settled into a steady rhythm when the lights went out. Absorbed in her thoughts, she had failed to notice that cleanup was over, just as the workers had failed to notice her before they left. Her immediate thought was that someone had cut the power, but she shook her head in the dark. "You've been hanging around Heero too much. Nobody's after you."
She rose and made her way to the exit, walking with exaggerated slowness. Her legs bumped against the barrier and she stepped over, proud of herself for not tripping. It had been foolish to wear three-inch heels to the circus, even if they were categorized as sandals.
A focused beam of light was leveled on her and she brought up one hand to shield her eyes, slipping into a defensive stance. Just because she was a pacifist didn't mean she ignored Wufei's lessons on self-defense. "Could you please lower that light? It's even more difficult to see now than it was when I was blind."
The light was redirected at her knees and she blinked rapidly to stop the afterimages blossoming before her. The light bobbed gently as the person wielding it stepped closer. "They forgot to leave the light on for you." A pleasant baritone reached her ears. "I half-expected to find you huddled in a corner."
Trowa had returned for her. Apparently he had traded his mask in for a flashlight. As happy as it made her (which it shouldn't, she berated herself), she was irritated with his remark. "Well, Captain Obvious, turns out I'm a self-rescuing princess." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at him, mimicking his earlier blank face.
To her surprise, he smiled and swept an arm before him, indicating she should take the lead so that they could exit the tent. She bent her knees in a quick, effortless curtsy and walked out into the fresh air. She tilted her head back to look at the sky. The view of the stars from space was always beautiful, but to her it never beat looking at them from Earth. Tonight was no exception. She spun to face her companion. "Where to now?"
He took the lead, winding a path through the circus grounds to the beginnings of a forest where the caravans had been set up in neat rows. Most of them were newer models used for camping. Only a handful, like the one he was leading her to currently, looked like the gypsy caravans she had seen in old movies.
Her eyes roamed over the ornately carved awning that protected the brightly painted wooden steps and small porch leading to the front door. As she stepped closer she saw that the railing posts had intricate curlicues carved into them. From the deceivingly simple wooden panels that covered the sides and back to the shutters drawn closed over the windows, there was a level of detail that was stunning.
She stepped closer to study the panels and was delighted to find that a fine, delicate latticework adorned with tiny flowers and vines had been carved into them. It was obvious that the work had been done by hand. Even the wicker shutters sported an intricate weave.
"This way." Trowa's voice broke through her oblivious admiration. She followed him through the screen door he kept propped open. It banged behind her, bouncing once before settling.
The interior was lit by two wall sconces that hung on either side of a large, yellowed map. Though the lighting was dim, it was not difficult to see that the inside was sparsely furnished. A wide door at the back of the caravan led to what she assumed was a bathroom; a yellow duck-shaped sign had been nailed into it. There was a changing screen with Circus posters plastered all over it, a dresser, a tiny antique-looking stove and a small table with two chairs built into the wall.
Shelves lined the walls where space was available, but the only objects she could identify with total confidence were a tea set and books. So many books! She wished she could make out the print on the spines. Would it be rude to ask him to turn up the lights so that she could study his home better?
Yes. Yes it would
Lips clamped together tightly, her eyes continued their limited observation. There was a stand meant to hold sheet music in one corner. Above it, on a shelf, lay a flute case. Nowhere did she see a bed. "Do you play?"
"Hm?" He reached around her and flipped a switch, setting the flashlight in a holster mounted beside the front door. The sudden brightness caused her to squint.
When her eyes had adjusted, she turned to look at him. "Do you play the fl- oh my!" She tilted her head back and stared in awe. The entire ceiling was made of glass. It would have made an impressive sunroof because of its enormity, but it made Relena forget to breathe because it was a vibrant, stained glass mural.
Of the numerous castles, churches and art museums she had explored throughout her life, this became an instant favorite, and the list was short. Keeping her head back, she began to walk the length of the caravan. There was no obvious pattern to the placement of the colored glass tiles, but the swirls of color made her feel at once happy and calm.
"Trowa, this is amazing," she admitted quietly, blushing when his hand fell upon her shoulder.
"You're about to run into a door," he replied and she lowered her gaze. Of course his words were true. "And, thank you."
"You're welcome." To end her embarrassment, she tapped the duck hanging before her. "We had signs like this for the bathrooms when I was in kindergarten."
"Catherine was hoping to make it seem more cheerful." Though his tone hinted at exasperation, his lips twitched upward, not quite a smirk. "It's my bedroom. There are bathrooms located elsewhere."
Great. Now she felt stupid and confused. The caravan couldn't be large enough to hold a bedroom – could it? Reading the puzzled expression on her face, he motioned her to step behind him. Once she was out of the way, he pulled the door open and reached up to unhinge a clasp. The rest of the wall swung open the opposite way, revealing a queen-sized bed that rested atop a low wall of drawers. Beyond the bed was a curtained window set into the back wall of the caravan.
The comforter was a deep wine color; at least, what she could see of it was. A majority of the bed's surface was covered with pillows ranging in size and shape, all of them donning chocolate and beige striped pillowcases. Amid the mound sat a worn-looking stuffed tiger. One patch of fur was thinning, and coarse gold thread was a telltale that holes had been patched in several places. The once-round animal had been flattened by repeated trips held under someone's arm. It was small, about the same size as her own well-loved teddy bear that sat on her bed. She refrained from asking if the tiger had a name.
Returning to her earlier curiosity, she asked, "Do you play the flute?"
If he was confused by her topic of choice, he hid it well. "I learned young. I play it on occasion." He shrugged. "I'm going to change. You can sit if you want."
Relena raised a skeptical brow. "Will it include a shirt this time around?"
He took some clothes from the dresser and walked behind the screen, failing to answer, but glanced in her direction. She swore he was almost grinning.
Trowa reappeared a minute later in a black t-shirt and faded jeans. Her heart nearly skipped a beat. Even in the most basic of garb, the former Gundam pilot looked..."Scrumptious." Did she really just say that out loud? Lucky for her he hadn't noticed her ogling him. She gestured to a canister of tea, thanking Quatre for his unique taste. "Jasmine phoenix pearl is one of my favorites."
"I have to feed the animals. I can make a pot when I'm finished."
"Thanks." She glanced up at him. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something more. "What?"
"Would you prefer to stay or go?"
"Oh." Deja vu. She bit the inside of her cheek. "Will you get in trouble for allowing me to join you?"
"No." With that, she followed him to the door and shifted her weight from one foot to the other as he turned off the overhead light and grabbed the flashlight. Relena closed both doors behind her and quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides.
The animal tents were closer to the caravans than the main tent, but Relena's feet were becoming tired of being held in an arched position within her sandals. "Would it be a bad idea for me to go barefoot?" Though determined to keep up with her long-legged companion, it was becoming difficult.
He slowed his pace, glancing down at her footwear . "I wouldn't. Wait here." He handed her the flashlight and vanished.
Relena looked up at the star-filled night and breathed deep of the summer air. She felt relaxed, not even a little bit bothered by being left alone in a field.
She was practicing her penmanship with the beam from the flashlight when Trowa returned, tossing a pair of thin, purple flip-flops before her. She dropped down beside them, regardless of potential grass stains, and pulled her heels off. She wiggled her toes in relief before standing and slipped on the borrowed shoes. They were a size too big, but she couldn't have cared less. Her feet were in heaven.
They entered the tent containing the lions and tigers. Relena was surprised to see that instead of cages with metal bars, the large cats were held in what looked like giant terrariums. "We received funds from the Happy Homes, Happy Animals foundation to improve our animals' living conditions," he explained when she asked about them.
"Quatre and I attended a benefit for them once two years ago." She smiled, remembering how jealous some of the women had been to discover that her, of all people, had been Quatre's date. "How do you feed them?"
He pointed out a transparent door and several windows that slid open. He walked over to a refrigerator standing in one corner and pulled out several massive steaks. "These are for the lions." When he fed them, he stuck his arm through the window, allowing the big cats to rub against him and lick his fingers. His smile was gentle as he interacted with them. Relena stepped closer to watch. The lions eyed her warily, but ignored her in favor of their feeder.
When they had eaten their fill, he went back to the fridge and beckoned for his unusual guest to follow him.
She was not what he had been expecting, he mused while he handed her two comically over-sized baby bottles. He saw her on the news frequently, giving speeches or arguing with men that were twice her age and twice as experienced. She was always civil and dressed demurely – although he had to admit she posssessed a great body – giving an appearance of being almost weak, but she exuded strength and maturity when she stood her ground, and her proposals were practical and sound, as opposed to idealistic and dreamy.
Heero had nothing but good to say about her, but that was no surprise. In his eyes she was good, smart, caring, attractive; blah, blah, blah. Trowa harbored great respect for him, but the man appeared to be biased in everything he had to say about her. Of course, it was rumored that he was in love with her.
Trowa took his opinions with a grain of salt.
After spending some time with her, he had to admit that she was pleasant to be around. He had figured she would be polite, but also to be timid or a total chatterbox, which is how most women acted around him. The way she dealt with her emotions surprised him as well. On television she was ever poised and calm, but here at the circus she wore her heart on her sleeve for the most part.
And she had a sense of humor. Go figure.
Relena looked down at the bottles in her arms. "What are these for?"
"Our female tiger gave birth about two weeks ago. She isn't producing enough milk, so we're supplementing. Usually the vets do this, but they went to buy more supplies," he explained and grabbed two steaks.
"Do they know why she isn't producing enough?" she asked as they headed to the other terrarium.
"She became ill several days before she delivered. One cub was stillborn. The others are healthy, but a little weak."
"I'm so sorry." Her voice was distant, almost sorrowful. "I can't imagine what that would be like."
"Do you want to help me feed the cubs?"
"Are you serious?" She clutched the baby bottles to her chest, not quite willing to believe him.
"It's easier with two people." He set the meat on a table beside the door to the enclosure. "Lily might not be comfortable with you in there. Try not to startle her. You have to wear gloves while handling the cubs. Are you allergic to latex?"
"No." She took the gloves he pushed her way, enjoyed the snapping sound the cuffs made against her skin. "Paging Dr. Relena," she mumbled under her breath with a smile. One corner of Trowa's mouth curved upward the slightest bit.
"Come on." He led her to the new mother and her babies. Two of the cubs were feeding. Two more were nearby, but out of sight. "Hello, Lily." His voice was soft. He glanced at the Vice Minister from the corner of his eye. "Hold out your hand to her. I'll stop her if she tries to bite or scratch."
"If you say so." She took a deep breath and held it, extended her hand toward the exotic animal. She avoided eye contact as Lily smelled her. The large cat gave a low growl before offering a feeble lick. She couldn't believe it. She had just been licked by a tiger!
She watched as Trowa placed the steaks before Lily, then crouched low to the ground when she heard faint mewling coming from behind a rock near Lily's tail. The third cub emerged on wobbly legs. "Aw, how cute!" she said, stretching the "aw" part. Her voice was just above a whisper so she wouldn't frighten the little ball of fur away. It was still mewling,but headed in her direction. She guessed it could smell the milk or whatever the liquid was in the bottle. "Trowa, what do I do?"
He looked over, keeping one hand on Lily's shoulder. "Hold it the way you would a human infant. Make sure to support its head and neck, then put the bottle to its mouth. The cub will do the rest."
She did as he instructed, surprised by how little it weighed and how soft its fur was. This was a whole new level of cuteness. More mewling began and presently the last cub emerged from its hiding spot. "Hello there, little one," she greeted. It rubbed against her and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Trowa, here's another one."
Abandoning his post, he scooped the other cub up and took a seat beside Relena. He cradled the baby in his arms and touched the bottle to its tiny mouth. The cub instantly latched on. They sat in silence for several minutes while the cubs and their mother ate their fill. Relena's cub nuzzled closer to her chest and she rested her cheek lightly on its head, laughing softly.
He glanced at Lily to see if the sound bothered her. On the contrary, her ears had pricked up and she began to purr as she chewed on her steak. He turned his attention to Relena and blinked, surprised by the surge of admiration that swept through him.
Cuddling with the two-week-old tiger cub, she was the epitome of bliss. Instant realization dawned and it was clear to see why Heero loved her. Her personality was bright and happy and it shone through, making her curiously beautiful – an adjective he never would have used to describe her. Pretty, okay. Beautiful? Not until now.
She resembled a girl scarcely over eighteen with her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. Her eyes were closed, full lips stretched in a languorous smile. She looked as though she had her heart's desire.
Eyes still closed, she said, "You know, working in a circus would be a dream come true to me sometimes."
"Hard to imagine you dreaming about anything unrelated to peace."
She cracked one eye open to look at him. "I have normal dreams like anyone else."
"Like what? Buying the perfect pair of shoes or dating your dream guy?" His tone was ambiguous.
She snorted, startling the tiger cub. She wasn't sure how she felt about discussing her dreams with this quiet, gorgeous creature. They were little more than acquaintances.
She decided to turn the question around on him. "Do you ever dream of finding the perfect shoes or dating the perfect girl? Tell me, Trowa, do you ever dream about me?" She hadn't meant to add the last inquiry. At least her tone was light. She batted her eyelashes to play her question off as teasing.
She didn't expect an answer. In truth, she was surprised that he was saying as much as he was. How many times had she heard Duo complain about having to work with a mute? Which was why she jumped when he said, "Once. After we talked in Antarctica." His tone seemed a little warmer than before. Shrugging one shoulder, he added, "I don't remember the specifics, but I do remember you being in it."
How was she supposed to respond? She met Trowa's gaze and felt like she was standing under a microscope. Wufei had told her how intense it could be to have Trowa's complete attention on you. He had then gone on to say that if she only applied herself to her lessons with that same level of focus, she would be a "red belt" by now.
She wasn't uncomfortable, exactly; she was simply unused to someone focusing on just her when she wasn't being televised. Even Heero never gave her all of his attention. He was always preoccupied with security, which was fine by her.
She was positive that if she trusted him, she would find it comforting. But she didn't trust him.
Probably wouldn't take too much effort on his part for that to happen. She was smitten. There was no getting around the fact, so she might as well save herself the trouble and admit it straight up. What that out of the way, maybe now she could function properly.
The sound of Trowa clearing his throat broke her reverie. How had her mind possibly managed to both ignore the fact that he had his gaze locked on her and decide that it was time for some inner reflection? She was desperate for a clever remark, but the best she came up with was, "I hope it was pleasant then." Her voice cracked at the end and she turned her head away, a slow blush creeping up her neck. She felt like an awkward teenager.
"I can't imagine why it wouldn't have been." His tone was neutral, but when she dared to face him again his lips quirked upward the slightest bit. An emotion she thought she recognized was lurking in his eyes.
It was difficult to grasp a sense of what he was trying to convey, much the same as it had been with Heero at first.
Then it hit her. He was teasing her and her reaction amused him. He wasn't laughing aloud; he was either too polite or he didn't know how to laugh. Too polite, she supposed. He was a clown, after all. He must know how to laugh.
The cubs had fallen asleep. Trowa helped her settle the babies near their mother and they left the tent. He still had that almost-smile playing on his lips. Desperate to rid herself of the ball of nerves jangling around in the pit of her stomach she asked, "Do you and your girlfriend always dress half-naked for a show?"
Trowa raised a brow and his smile widened. "You mean Catherine?"
"Yes." Her jaw dropped seconds later. It was unbecoming, but she was powerless to do a thing about it. Trowa was laughing like she had told a fantastic joke and the sound was beautiful and melodious and irritating. She had somehow missed the punchline.
"Older sister. I don't have a girlfriend," he explained when he caught her pouting.
Relena cursed Heero mentally for not giving her even a single glimpse into the life of the man she was spending time with. This made the whole night more complicated. Or embarrassing?
They continued walking, side by side instead of follow the leader, and he glanced down at her, amused by how she seemed to be scolding herself. It was surprising that Heero hadn't come to claim her yet.
"I should apologize for Cathy keeping your boyfriend from you for so long," he commented after checking the time on his phone.
She met his gaze for half a second before she doubled over, laughing so hard that her legs threatened to stop supporting her. Tears were forming. She clutched her sides. "Oh it hurts, it hurts," she moaned between bouts of giggles. When she had regained her composure she said, "Are you kidding? We're not remotely interested in one another romantically. Did Heero tell you that we were?"
His face was blank again. "No." Now he felt like an ass. He wondered if that's how she felt when she had assumed he was dating Catherine. It wasn't pleasant.
"Good. Maybe he's getting better." All conversation ceased as they finished their short walk. They spotted a woman carrying two large buckets away from the tent housing the elephants.
"John and I took care of the elephants since you were tied up with the cubs," she called as they approached.
Trowa nodded his appreciation and turned to head for the caravans. Relena's fingers brushed against his arm and she pulled her hand away quickly. "What do you suppose my bodyguard and your sister are up to?" she asked as she lifted her face to catch the light breeze drifting through, determined not to blush.
"Heero recognized the knives that Catherine used. During the war, we were assigned missions that coincided. The knives once belonged to a business man that got the short end of the bargain."
"Why would he care?"
"They're made out of diamond. Heero wanted to sell them. I didn't." He shrugged. "When I returned to the circus, I gave them to Catherine as an apology for stressing her out."
"How sweet of you." She switched her sandals to her left hand, suddenly interested in examining the buckle. "So. Do you have a girlfriend?" The weight of his stare was heavy upon her shoulders. "I don't want to be attacked for a misunderstanding."
"Ah. I see." Trowa clasped his hands behind his back. "I travel too often to develop any meaningful relationships. What about you?"
Her smile was wry. "Between my job and Heero scaring off every interested male within a hundred miles, I'll probably grow to be a bitter old spinster." She cut herself off before she started to rant. Talking lapsed once again, but both were comfortable with it. They entered his caravan and she removed the flip-flops and set her sandals beside them. The overhead light was left off. Finding herself with nothing to do and appreciating it, Relena sat at the table to watch Trowa prepare tea.
The half-mask lay before her and she picked it up, rotating it as she examined every angle. All of a sudden she had a plethora of questions to ask, the first being how in the hell he kept the mask on his face. She placed it face-up on the table when Trowa set a steaming mug of tea in front of her. She wrapped her hands around the mug, breathing in the subtle aroma of jasmine.
He took over the vacant chair, sitting sideways so that his back rested against the wall, stretching his legs before him. She was still staring at his mask. "Have you figured it out yet?"
"No. Don't tell me the answer."Her voice was fierce and he smirked. She sat back and folded her arms before her chest. "What did I say to amuse you this time?"
He leaned his head back. She was beginning to think he wouldn't answer when he said, "You're not what I expected."
"The same could be said about you," she replied. To his credit, Trowa didn't rise to the bait, although he was interested. She frowned into her tea. "Meh. Are you really going to make me ask you to elaborate?" After a brief silence she added, "If you tell me, I'll tell you. You must be curious." She lifted her eyes to meet his.
The tilted angle of his head allowed both eyes to be visible. They glittered in the dim light, reminding Relena of a feline. "I thought you would be boring like you are on television."
She was surprised into laughter. "I thought you would be an unwilling conversationalist resentful of the fact that Heero dumped me on you." Her smile was coy. "If I'm so boring, then why do you watch me on TV?"
His eyes roamed over what he could see of her figure with a deliberate, leisurely pace before redirecting to her face. His smile was slightly predatory and she shivered. He found her attractive. Point taken. He responded with a question of his own. "Why do you act so dull onstage instead of letting them see the real you?"
"Why do you make conversation the verbal equivalent to pulling teeth?" she countered.
He shook his head. "You first. It's only fair."
Her stomach fluttered. Was he flirting with her? She took several sips of tea before answering, enjoying the change of roles. Now she could make him sweat it out.
Finally she said, "It's quite simple. My job comes with a prerequisite image. At work, I am Relena Dorlain, the Vice Minister of Interplanetary Affairs, and that means that I have to be mature, practical and understanding. Off duty, I am Relena Dorlain, a twenty-three year old with a twisted sense of humor, a love of video games and a sarcastic tongue that can be too quick for my brain at times. What would the public think if they knew that the pacifistic role model enjoyed playing games like Jak and Daxter and reading books like Choke?"
She paused, taking another sip of the delicious amber liquid in her mug. "I've tried getting the two to mix, but it causes too many issues. I have to keep them separated. It's a tricky balancing act." A sly grin stretched her lips. "Better hope I never join the circus. My high wire routine would steal the spotlight out from under your knife throwing act."
Trowa twisted in his seat, his elbows resting on the table. He leaned forward until their faces were inches apart. "I have a clown routine to fall back on. Besides, you wouldn't last one minute in the circus, Minister Dorlain."
She held his mask to her face and gave an exaggerated frown. "Guess I'll have to emulate that charming personality of yours," she deadpanned. His lips twitched, but he seemed determined not to crack a smile. She tilted her head to one side, the frown traded in for a glare that screamed "Heero Yuy."
In an almost-perfect imitation of her best friend's monotone she asked, "Why so serious? I'm only clowning around."
"Relena, that's bad."
"I know. Sorry." She placed the mask on the table, glancing at her quiet companion. Once again, she felt like a new specimen on display for a scientist. She resisted the urge to squirm in her seat. "What are you trying to find?"
"You really are unique." He sounded surprised.
"Just like everybody else, right?"
If anyone had asked, neither could give a definite answer to the question of who started laughing first. The end result was the same: both were slumped over the table, wondering two things: why the hell it was so funny and why they couldn't stop laughing.
Two minutes passed before they regained some semblance of calm. Trowa's arms were crossed on the table, his chin resting on the makeshift pillow. Relena mimicked his pose, surprised that they hadn't spilled their tea. She offered him a lazy grin, scrunching up her nose when a lock of stray hair fell forward and tickled it. "I can't remember the last time I laughed so much in one day," she sighed.
He swept the rebellious hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers down her cheek. Without meaning to, she leaned into the gesture. Physical affection was not something she was treated to every day. "I'm glad for you."
She believed him.
The unexpected, tender moment was ruined when Catherine's cheerful voice broke through the consequent silence. The hinges of the screen door screeched as she pulled it open. "Well, what was the big joke, huh? We could hear you two laughing a mile away."
"No part of the circus grounds is a mile from here," Trowa replied. He had pulled away hardly a second before his sister's voice fell upon their ears, but Relena didn't mind. She straightened her spine, raising her arms above her head in a much-needed stretch.
"What took you guys so long?" she asked.
"Heero brought a gun to a knife fight," Catherine sniffed, picking at a loose thread hanging from the cutoffs she had changed in to. "He makes a good target though."
The "target" walked in, the screen door bouncing closed behind him. His stance was rigid. "Minister Dorlain, are you ready for me to escort you home?"
Minister Dorlain suppressed a groan. When he addressed her like that, it meant he was in a very bad mood. She turned to look at him and found herself suppressing much more than a groan. The recent laughter she had shared with Trowa threatened to bubble up again. His shirt and pants were riddled with small holes and his cheeks betrayed the slightest pink blush. His eyes were downcast, glaring at the floor. Spending almost a decade with the former Perfect Soldier allowed Relena to read his emotions like a picture book. Heero was...embarrassed? Hilarious!
"What did you do to deserve that?" She hadn't meant to ask, not with him looking ready to shoot someone.
"We're leaving." He picked up her sandals and tossed them to her. She caught them reflexively and squelched the temptation to throw them back at him. Heero directed his attention to Trowa. "Thank you for keeping her out of trouble."
Relena bristled at the implication of his words, but forced herself to go through the meditative breathing exercises Wufei had taught her. She stood and faced Catherine, extending her hand. "I had a really lovely time tonight. Thank you so much for everything."
Catherine smiled warmly and took Relena's hand. "It was a pleasure. Don't be a stranger, okay? I'd love to see you and Heero more often." She winked at the former pilot, causing his scowl to deepen.
"Let's go already." He stormed out of the trailer, Catherine following to continue her torment of him. Relena headed out after them, pausing when she reached the door to look back at Trowa.
"You never answered my question."
He stepped closer, towering over her. She hadn't realized just how tall he was. She licked her lips nervously. "Do you want to know the answer?" His voice was low.
"Yes, please." Her own voice was steady, much to her surprise. Her legs felt like gelatin.
"Then I guess you'll have to come back." He propped the door open for her. "Good night, princess." He bowed low.
She dropped into a deep curtsy, inclining her head. "Good evening, harlequin."
...
Although Relena trusted Heero with her life, it did nothing to allay the uneasiness she felt whenever he drove her car over ninety miles per hour. He hadn't spoken a word to her since they had left the circus and the silence was beginning to grate on her nerves. He wouldn't even allow her to turn the radio on.
She crossed her arms and closed her eyes so that she didn't have to survey the quickly passing landscape. "You need to tell me what your issue is or slow the car down. Doing both would be ideal, but I'll settle for either," she huffed when her well of patience had evaporated.
Heero clenched his teeth together. He was unable to understand why Relena was afraid of his driving. It was as if she didn't realize that he had traveled speeds well over a hundred miles an hour when piloting Wing. His reflexes were still sharp and, as he had explained to her before, she was not allowed to die until he (or nature) decided it was time for her to do so. "Would you like to drive?" he snapped.
"Yes, actually. I don't understand the point of owning a car that everyone drives but me," she replied and narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't change the subject. What is the matter with you?"
"None of your business." His grip on the wheel tightened. "Leave it alone."
"Tell me."
"No."
"Heero." Her voice held a note of warning, reminiscent of a mother about to reach the count of three. "You are skating on thin ice. Tell me what the hell your problem is or slow down my goddamned car!"
Whatever answer he was trying to convey came out sounding like his mouth was full of marbles.
"He vio edme?" Relena frowned, concern beginning to take root. Something awful must have happened to make him so unwilling to talk to her about it. They did not often keep secrets from one another. "Heero, please tell me what's going on." She put a hand on his leg. "This isn't about your speeding anymore. I'm starting to worry."
"She violated me." Heero spat the words out as though they left a bad taste in his mouth.
"What! Who?"
"Catherine."
"I see." Her frown deepened. "Do we need to go to the police? Are you hurt?"
"No." The faintest red tinge began to appear, accentuating his cheekbones. "Stop looking at me like that!"
"Maybe you should focus on the road so that you can't see my facial expressions!"
"It's called peripheral vision, Minister!"
Relena breathed in slow and deep, held it for a count of ten and reminded herself that it never ended well when they started a shouting match. "I'm sorry that I'm pushing the issue. Obviously whatever she did to you is having a very negative effect on you. Are you certain that you don't want to seek out some kind of help?"
"I'm sure." Stony silence enveloped the car. Heero began to relax his jaw muscles, slowing the car to five miles above the speed limit. Curiously, his companion had ceased bothering him about sharing the details of his encounter with Catherine. Maybe the silent treatment was a new method.
Relena was tenacious, if nothing else. She had proved that to him after spending four years badgering, prying, cajoling, coaxing, screaming and pleading with him to accept the fact that he was a human being, not an object, and to start acting like one. No matter how he had tried to block her out, something had gotten through to him and thus began his transformation from one of War's expendable pawns to a man that appreciated sleeping in on the weekends. It didn't seem like much, but to his friends it was as though Heero had learned to breathe underwater.
That was only one example.
He slowed to punch in the code for the gate and parked the car in the spacious stand-alone garage, irritated once again by two facts: most of the car slots were filled with rusty antiques that were unlikely to ever leave and he was forbidden to do anything but look at them. His sigh of annoyance forced Relena to turn away lest he see her smirk. She tried to focus on the fact that it was raining to keep from teasing him.
If there was one thing that was guaranteed to get under Heero's skin, it was rust. She knew it drove him mad every time he entered the garage, but she had been unable to resist Duo's charming speech that outlined why it would be beneficial for her to house his collection – the main reason being she would be graced by his presence when he came to work on the cars. That had been well over two months ago and the cheerful pilot had yet to make an appearance, furthering Heero's annoyance.
"I don't mind if my car is parked outside," Relena said as they side-stepped a pile of scrap metal that Duo had insisted he needed.
Heero sent her a scathing look. "Do you want your car to end up like these?" Not waiting for an answer, he led the way to the door. "When are you going to have that addition built to connect your house to the garage? It isn't safe for you to walk around at night."
"For the sake of my sanity, Yuy, give it a rest! The universe is not out to get me!" She stormed past him, regardless of the torrents of rain that fell from the sky. "I'm sick of you treating me like a little girl!"
"Then stop acting like a spoiled brat!" It was rare for him to raise his voice toward her, especially over something so mundane, and it stopped her in her tracks. She executed an abrupt about-face, wet strands of hair whipping against her bare arm. Her glare rivaled his as he continued, "That garage of yours is tetanus waiting to happen, the perimeter fence is beginning to show signs of wear in places, and anyone could pull up to the front gate and shoot you as you walk from your car to the house! Take some responsibility for your well-being!"
"I didn't think I would have to what with having a paranoid psycho for a bodyguard, but since you can't even keep yourself from being assaulted, I may have to rethink my security personnel!" Her poisonous words worked their magic as she intended.
"I was not physically harmed! She pinned me to the wall of her trailer with those damned knives and kissed me!"
Relena raised a brow, a victorious smile lighting her face. "You expect me to believe that you were unable to free yourself from the wall despite your ability to escape almost all forms of containment?"
Heero realized that, not for the first time, she had managed to make him confess something he didn't want to confess. "Damn you, Relena Dorlain."
She swept her hands before her in a gesture of helplessness. "It isn't my fault that you're so easily manipulated."
"No wonder you fit so well in the world of politics," he sneered and pushed her toward the house. "We need to get out of this rain."
Relena agreed wholeheartedly and quickened her pace to a risky jog. She glanced to her right before looking for the front door, trying to gauge Heero's mood. "Did you like it?" she yelled over the rumbling thunder.
Heero unlocked the door and yanked her in after him. She closed the heavy oak slab before beginning the daunting task of re-locking it. The deadbolt and knob locks were, of course, a snap; it was the hefty wooden beam that fell across the door that proved difficult. The damn thing weighed almost seventy pounds.
It was the main reason Relena had included weight lifting as an integral part to her previously cardio-only workout.
Heero pushed his dripping hair out of his face, only to have the stubborn locks fall back into place. With a growl of impatience, he shook his head, water droplets flying in all directions. Relena put her hands up, squealing in protest. "You are not a dog! Get a towel like a normal human being."
She rolled her eyes when he ignored her. "What were you referring to when you asked if I liked it?" he asked instead, retrieving a towel from the guest bathroom off the hall. He dropped the cloth on her head. She snatched it away, rubbing her hair with brisk, rough movements.
"Did you like the kiss?"
The question gave him pause. He hadn't thought about the sensation of kissing Catherine, only the humiliation felt. As he reminisced the feel of her mouth against his, he decided it had been pleasant.
Too pleasant.
"We are not going back to that circus. Good night, Relena." That said, he headed upstairs to lock himself away in the room that housed the security system.
Relena finished drying her hair, a wide smile playing on her mouth. Heero would go back to that circus no matter what he said.
"Miss Relena, you are soaked to the bone." Pagan's gentle rebuke freed her from her thoughts. She blushed, glancing at the marble floor. Small puddles of water glistened in the light. Her gaze was redirected to the aging retainer that had stayed with her through the years. He held a cotton robe and a mop.
"I'm terribly sorry, Pagan." She accepted the robe he handed her, dislodging the mop handle from his grasp as well. "I'll clean this up. It's late. You should go to bed."
His smile was gentle as he patted her on the head. "Did you have fun at the circus, little heart?"
She scrunched up her face at the pet name, but nodded. "It was a wonderful day." Thinking about Trowa made it difficult to keep from grinning.
"Tell me of it in the morning. Good night, Miss Relena."
Thankful for the added height of her heels, she reached up and kissed his dry, papery cheek. "Sweet dreams, my friend."He took his leave, retreating to his quarters.
She mopped the floor with quick, efficient strokes and returned the tool to the supply closet before going to her own room.
She fell into bed, visions of emerald eyes and diamond lights dancing in her mind.