Brussels, Belgium
June, A.C. 207
Trowa surveyed the spectators who were filing into the stands under the big top. From his place in the shadows, he saw the familiar blonde pass through the tent flaps and take a seat in the front row. Beside him, Catherine bumped him in the arm with her elbow.
"Whatcha lookin' at, bro?" She smirked knowingly. Trowa ignored her, not moving his eyes from the woman in the stands. Catherine nudged him again. "Did you send her the tickets this time?" Trowa continued to ignore his sister, so she nudged him again. "You finally got the balls, huh?"
"Shut up, Catherine," Trowa mumbled. She trilled a laugh, making Trowa flinch. Trowa had sent the tickets, but he'd sent two.
She had come alone.
Near the edge of the big top, the ringmaster stepped through a flap and glanced toward his two stars. Catherine nudged her brother for the third time.
"Let's go," she said, and tugged him by the arm back into the shadows.
After the ringmaster introduced the show, Trowa watched while the first acts performed: the elephant routine, the clowns, and the dancing dogs. Finally, Catherine and Trowa were up. They took synchronized breaths and exhaled, then stepped out into the spotlight.
Trowa and Catherine raised their hands together and bowed. When Trowa stood up, he could see her watching the show with a smile on her face. With a better view, he could see that she had cut her hair shorter than he'd ever seen it before, into an angled bob that skimmed her shoulders.
Catherine grabbed his hand and pulled him out into the center of the ring. "Pay attention, Trowa," she whispered to him. Trowa mentally shook himself and pulled his focus back to the performance.
They began their act, flowing through the motions with practiced ease. But Trowa couldn't stop from allowing his gaze to fall on her. Catherine threw Trowa nasty looks; he was missing marks and fumbling through some of the aerial moves, trying to make up for his distraction. Catherine jabbed him in the side with her finger, but it was too late for him to return his full attention to their performance. Somehow, they completed their routine, landing in the center of the ring with a flourish. The audience broke out into applause, and Trowa and Catherine bowed. They pranced off the ring and back into an adjoining tent, where other performers were preparing.
Catherine whirled on Trowa, a frown on her face. "What was that?" she bellowed, startling Trowa and the other performers. Trowa hung his head.
"Sorry, sis," he replied.
"You can't let yourself get distracted over a girl," she chided him, her voice a little calmer, the heat in her cheeks lessening. "One of us could get hurt."
"I know. I'm sorry." Catherine exhaled a long breath, grasped his shoulder briefly, then stepped away to her makeshift vanity. Trowa watched her go, then turned away to peek through the tent flaps. She was no longer sitting in the audience. Trowa frowned.
Where did she go?
"Eh, Trowa!" one of the other performers called out. "You have a visitor!" Trowa spun around.
Relena Darlian stood just inside the tent, her hands clasped together, a small black purse slung over the shoulder of her short, fitted white dress. Trowa took a deep breath and crossed the tent. Relena reached out and hugged him around the shoulders.
"Trowa! That was amazing!" she exclaimed. Trowa smiled and bowed his head.
"Thank you," he said. "I'm glad you could make it."
"Well, I finally had a night off." She shifted in her wedged sandals and Trowa wondered if, for a second, the usually composed Foreign Minister was nervous.
Catherine reappeared at Trowa's side and stepped into a hug from Relena.
"Cathy! I was just telling Trowa how amazing you two are."
"Thank you!" Catherine said in a too-high voice, grinning at Trowa. "We were hoping you'd get to see the show before the circus moves again."
"Oh? How long are you in town?"
"The ringmaster has us scheduled for a few more weeks," Trowa answered. Relena opened her mouth to speak, but her phone began to ring. Excusing herself, she stepped back to answer. Catherine turned to Trowa with a sly grin.
"So are you gonna do it?"
Trowa looked at her blankly. "Do what?"
"Ask her out!" Catherine hissed. When Trowa didn't answer right away, she sighed impatiently. "Don't tell me you dragged her all the way out here for nothing?! Idiot."
"Well, I…" Trowa's face felt hot. Catherine rolled her eyes.
"Come on, Trowa! Just get it over with." Relena had started back in their direction, and Catherine smiled at her brother conspiratorially. "I'll help."
Trowa grimaced. "Please don't."
"Sorry about that," Relena said as she rejoined them. "That was Une."
"Anything serious?" Trowa asked.
Relena waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing to worry about right now." A group of performers entered the tent from the big top, laughing boisterously. "Well, I should get back into the stands so I can see the rest of the show! It was so nice to see you two!" She beamed at them.
Catherine clapped Trowa on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over. "You should come back here after the show is over!" she said to Relena. "Trowa's always starving after these shows, and I hear there are some great restaurants in Brussels..."
Relena clasped her hands excitedly. "Oh, that would be wonderful! We should all go out! I would love to show you two around."
All of us? Trowa shot a look at his sister.
Catherine grinned. "Excellent! Come on, Trowa. We have to get ready for our next act."
"Break a leg!" Relena gave a little wave as she exited through the tent flaps. Trowa's head was spinning, and it was several moments before he moved from where he stood. Behind him, he could hear Catherine cackling.
After the spectacle was over, Trowa nearly ran to his trailer to change into his street clothes. He knew he had a few minutes before the crowd would file out of the big top. He reached for his standby turtleneck and jeans combo, but instead chose a pressed button-down shirt and darker jeans. He looked in the mirror while parting his hair, a little self-conscious of the way it was growing out. With his bangs combed and parted, his hair hung slightly past his ears. At this point, Relena's hair wasn't much longer than his.
Relena. She could be waiting for him - and Cathy - outside right now, and Trowa had no idea what he was going to say to her. Since they were in Brussels for the month, part of their summer-long European tour, he'd felt compelled to invite her to the show.
And there she was, and she'd seemed genuinely excited to see them. So now he was obligated to attempt to socialize with her, even though his past interactions with her had been few and far between.
No big deal. I'll make small talk.
Taking a deep breath, Trowa stepped out of his trailer. He headed toward the main drag of the circus, looking around. He didn't see Catherine, but as he approached the big top, he saw Relena hanging back by the entrance, looking at something on her phone. Trowa clenched and unclenched his hands a few times, trying to quell the nerves that were buzzing through his limbs.
As he neared, Relena lifted her gaze from her phone and smiled. She stowed her phone away in her purse and walked to meet Trowa.
"Sorry to make you wait," Trowa said. He couldn't help but notice how naturally pretty she looked in the early evening light.
"No problem. I already saw Catherine. She's not feeling well right now and is going to pass on dinner," Relena explained. Trowa frowned. Catherine had seemed perfectly fine when he saw her at the end of the show. Realization dawned on him that she was bowing out so Trowa could spend one-on-one time with Relena. He would have to give her grief for it later, but he couldn't worry about that right now. He needed to focus on finding things to talk about with Relena, and to make sure she didn't end up wasting her time with him.
Relena shifted her weight from one foot to another. "Shall we head out? We can take my car," she offered, catching him in the middle of his thoughts. Trowa mentally shook himself.
"Sure, that's fine." Relena smiled and stepped to his side, and together they made their way to the field that served as the parking lot for the circus. Other spectators were leaving the field as well, and there was a queue of cars lining up to turn onto the main road. Relena led the way to her car, a newer Mercedes Benz convertible in metallic cobalt blue. Trowa climbed into the passenger seat, wondering when Relena stopped using a driver and limousine.
He watched as Relena slid into the leather seat and pressed the button to turn on the car. With the press of another button, she dropped the top, exposing them to the warm summer breeze. Trowa tried not to stare while Relena tied a scarf around her hair. Something about the way her fingers tied the fabric…
"Trowa?" He flinched.
"Sorry, what was that?" he asked, trying to cover his awkwardness.
"I asked what kind of food you're in the mood for," Relena said, staring at him expectantly.
"Something local?" Trowa mused. "Anywhere but a chain is fine with me."
Relena grinned. "I know just the place…"
Trowa was grateful they made it to the cafe alive. The last thing he expected from Relena Darlian was for her to be an aggressive driver with a lead foot.
He was equally surprised by her choice in restaurants. The 27 Club, a trendy sidewalk bistro - with a sidewalk Relena half-parked on - was a more casual place than he would picture the likes of a dignitary. Nevertheless, she greeted the hostess by first name.
"Your usual table is ready, Miss Relena," the hostess said, escorting the pair to an outdoor seating area. The young woman disappeared after handing them menus. When Trowa glanced back at Relena, he noticed a slight flush on her cheeks.
"I'm a bit of a regular here," she said shyly. Trowa smiled at how endearing she looked when she blushed.
Does she come here with Heero? The unbidden voice in Trowa's head caught him off guard. His stomach tightened unpleasantly as he glanced over the menu, just looking for something to do to take his gaze off Relena's face.
"Have you decided?" Their waiter appeared, setting down two cocktail glasses. Trowa hadn't even noticed Relena ordering drinks.
"What's this?" He held the glass to his nose and sniffed.
"Bianca Castafiore," the waiter grinned.
"Try it." Relena winked. "It's sweet."
Trowa took a tentative sip. And immediately coughed.
"That's strong," he managed.
"Ooh, sorry about that." Relena took a practiced sip, eyeing him as she did. "You don't by chance have a nut allergy, do you?"
"No, I'm good," Trowa sputtered.
"Fabulous."
Trowa wondered if Relena had been spending much time with Dorothy lately, but before he could ask, the waiter cleared his throat.
"Are you ready to place your order?" he repeated.
Trowa hadn't had much time with the menu but at this rate, he could tell Relena felt comfortable ordering for him. He questioned whether he should let her. There couldn't be anything on the menu that had an alcohol percentage, could there?
"Please ask Chef Jules to make his specialty," Relena said in a confident tone belying her nobility. Something about the tilt of her chin reminded Trowa of her days as Queen of the World.
Then again, Trowa thought, you can't take the nobility out of the royal…
For a moment, silence stretched between them, punctuated by the sounds of cars, the clatter of cutlery, and the low buzz of conversation. Under the table, Trowa twisted his fingers around, desperately searching his mind for a topic of conversation. Every moment that passed felt more stilted than the last. He wondered if Relena was also hyper-aware of the silence between them.
"Have you been to the colonies lately?" Relena asked. "Where Duo and Hilde are?"
"Not yet. We have a few shows there coming up this fall," Trowa answered, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. "How is… how's your Mars project going?"
To Trowa's immense relief, Relena launched into a lengthy explanation about the terraformation project, which carried them to the arrival of their food, which ended up being Belgian-style hamburgers and French fries - rather, pomme frites - with various dipping sauces. Once again, Trowa was surprised. He hadn't really thought about what the young, successful Foreign Minister liked to eat, but hamburgers defied all expectations.
"I hope you like it," Relena said, gesturing to his plate. "This is one of my favorite restaurants in the world."
"I'm sure I will," Trowa said. To emphasize his statement, he picked up the burger and took a bite. Flavors and juices exploded on his tastebuds, rendering him speechless as he chewed and swallowed his first bite. Trowa wasn't by any means well-versed in cooking, but this was the best thing he'd eaten in recent and distant memory.
"Amazing," he breathed. Relena clapped her hands together in delight and took a bite of her own burger. With plates in front of them, it was easier to make small talk about food around bites. Before long, Trowa's first drink was gone, replaced quickly by a second, and his tongue began to loosen.
"... It wasn't really my idea to incorporate aerial tricks into our routine, but Cathy was insistent. And once the ringleader saw her idea, he wouldn't drop it," Trowa explained.
"Really?!" Relena seemed genuinely surprised, although Trowa had to wonder if her enthusiasm was at all influenced by her second drink. "But you've always been so gifted in that area, I would have thought you came up with all those moves yourself…"
"Well, actually, I did," Trowa said. "Cathy just made me do them, you know, in public."
"Wow…" Relena drew out the word, something Trowa was sure was because of the alcohol, this time. "I wish I could do that."
"What, make me do something embarrassing in public?" Trowa attempted a joke. It landed, and Relena giggled.
"No…" Her cheeks were reddening. "I mean fly through the air like that. I'm so jealous." She rested her chin in her palm and glanced at him fondly. "I haven't even done a cartwheel since I was maybe seven. And even then, I was probably furious for tearing my dress, or something."
Trowa chuckled. Prior to this evening, he wouldn't have been able to imagine Relena tearing a dress while attempting gymnastics, but he was beginning to see a completely different side of her.
"It certainly is easier if you're not wearing a dress," Trowa said. Relena just gaped at him.
"Pardon?"
"Pants. I mean, wearing pants." Trowa reached for his water glass and realized it was a collins glass. Full of liquor. Damn. He lifted his gaze up to Relena to see her burst into riotous laughter. A few nearby diners glanced in their direction, but Relena was completely chuckled as well and leaned back against the chair, picking at the remnants of his meal. The waiter returned and swept away their plates, replacing them with some impressive-looking desserts. Once again Trowa had no idea what Relena had ordered, but he realized he didn't care.
He took a bite of something chocolate, spiked with what tasted like brandy.
"How is that?" Relena gestured to his plate with her fork. She was trying something that appeared to be a lemon custard-filled cream puff.
"Want to try it?" He asked her.
"Sure."
But before Relena could dig her own fork in, Trowa surprised himself by leaning forward and lifting his spoon to Relena's lips.
She didn't back away, like he'd half-expected. She parted her lips and allowed him to feed her the morsel of chocolate. When Trowa withdrew the spoon, he realized his hands were shaking. He only hoped she hadn't noticed. But Relena was busy savoring the bite.
She also insisted on feeding him some of her dessert, and Trowa had to wonder how that must look to their fellow patrons and passersby, if anyone was even paying them the slightest bit of attention. Everything around them was a blur, anyway, as if they were in their own little world.
And then it happened. Something welled up in Trowa and the words were escaping his lips before he had a chance to recapture them.
"So where's Heero?"
Relena's fork clattered on her plate. Trowa winced as her face paled. Shit.
"We should get the check," she stammered.
A/N: Long live Sunday Funday! We hope you enjoy this one.
- RGS
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