Xandra: Sorry about the long chapter last time (it was a must) but this one
is a little shorter. OOC Quatre in this, but I think it's justified all
things considered. (YOU imagine living as a gorgeous millionaire trapped
with DOROTHY as a wife with NO sex [by your own choice], no freedom and a
LOT of caffeine in your system and see how nice YOU are!) Also, some animal
bashing (hee hee, I'm evil). That is all. ^_^ Enjoy!
****
My Little Katie
By Xandra
Chapter Two: King of the High Wire
****
"I've never been to a circus before!" Katie cried as Duo lifted her off the motorcycle and set her on her feet. Heero accepted the helmets back and hooked them to the seat behind him, then revved the engine and took the black bike off to park it.
"First time for everything, baby," Duo said, eyeing his lover astride the Harley. Sometimes he wondered if Heero loved that bike more than he loved the braided baka himself, but then again, he didn't sleep with his bike-- not yet, anyway. It got to the point that Duo was starting to question the soldier's attachment. He'd probably marry the damn thing if he could! Thank God for common-law marriage! He kissed the ring on his finger for luck, then looked down at Katie, who was spinning on the heels of her little penny-loafers. She wanted to see everything there was to see, he could tell, and she was loving every moment of it--and they weren't even inside yet! Smiling, he set a hand on her head and looked up at the familiar red- and-yellow-stripped tent. "Wha'cha think, kid?"
"It's great!" she exclaimed, clapping excitedly. Then, she paused and looked up at him, taking his hand in both of hers by gripping his pinkie and thumb, cutely. "Mama says a circus is a bad thing with stupid, tacky people in it, where idiots pay to see animals run around like dumb things for peanuts and embarrass themselves. Is that true, Doodle?"
//Dorothy is SUCH a...damn! It should be illegal to be that much of a bitch!// He smiled down at her, throwing his braid back over his shoulder. "No, honey, it's not. A circus is a place for people to go and be entertained by talented people and their special pets."
"Oh," she said, beaming. "I thought so!"
Heero strode up, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. "Ready?"
"Yeah!" Katie cheered, happily. Her joy was contagious, because suddenly, Duo's already bubbling excitement sparked by the scheme he and his koi had concocted became impossible to contain. "Let's go! Let's go!"
Duo sent Heero a curious glance, then beamed as his stoic love smiled at him, warming his heart. Grabbing his hand, the braided man allowed the blonde girl to drag he and his love to the tent. "Think this'll work?" he whispered to Heero.
He nodded. "If Trowa doesn't spot her when he's on the tightrope, we'll just have to go backstage after the show and perform introductions. She's already said that she wants to make him smile, and knowing him, he'll be so stunned he won't be able to argue or run."
"Good."
"Whispering is rude, Doodle!" Katie said, scoldingly, giving his finger a mean little squeeze.
He smirked. "Oww! Hey, be nice to me!"
"Stop whispering back there!" she said.
He nodded, then looked at Heero, who smirked at him. "I sorry, Katiekins."
"S'okay, but behave yourselfs! We's in public!"
Duo smiled, then allowed Katie to drag he and Heero into the large tent, where they quickly found their seats--at the very top of the stands, nearest one of the tightrope's anchor posts. That way, if Trowa did his act, he wouldn't miss them...especially not Katie. Her sense of style was pure serendipity--she looked just like a little Quatre in her leggings, sweater, vest, penny-loafers and ponytail--and it was almost absolutely certain that Trowa would spot her for that reason. Luck was with them!
Katie sat between her two uncles and fidgeted as the music started for the show to begin, and she cheered as synthetic fireworks went up right in the tent (which was perfectly safe because they were laser lights with sound effects). "Ooh! Pretty!" she cheered, clinging to Duo's arm. "Is it ALL gonna be this pretty?"
"I'm sure it will," he said, smiling over her head at Heero, who smirked in return.
Suddenly, a light focused on a spot in the center ring far below them, shifting from red to purple to blue and back, and with an explosion of sparkling smoke, a form appeared, dressed in a metallic, tri-colored suit to match the light with a large top-hat on its head. At first, it looked like a man, but as the light suddenly turned gold and the performer removed the hat, the feminine body became apparent, and the face of Catherine Bloom was revealed. Her image came up on a large screen at the head of the tent for those who couldn't see. Her lovely face was painted by pale makeup, with metallic eyeshadow and lipstick in glittering colors of blue, purple and red that made her look funny, pretty and exotic at the same time. Reaching into the top-hat, she brought a microphone from the recesses and tossed it aside, her curls bouncing exuberantly as the lights and effects exploded all around her, astonishingly.
//Wow, they really jazzed it up!// Duo thought, recalling the old days when Trowa had worked here as a simple clown, wearing a freakishly goofy outfit. The most high-tech thing they had owned back then was a spotlight! NOW they had laser effects, cameras, music and all of that cool stuff!
"Welcome, one and all, boys and girls of ALL ages!" she cried, striking up excitement in the crowd. "I am Catherine Bloom, and this, my friends, is by far the oldest and greatest show in the universe! We of the Trinity bid you welcome to our home, and we pray you will enjoy our performance! Remember, though, as you watch our show, that the truth in what you see is never certain--and our secret lies behind a glittery curtain." She paused, then laughed. "Hey, I'm a poet and I didn't even know it! Ha!"
The crowd laughed and Duo smiled to himself. She hadn't changed very much.
"Enjoy the show, folks!"
**** ~
Quatre sat back in his chair and took another sip of his coffee, then sighed deeply as his study door opened. //What does she want now?// he thought, wearily, removing his reading glasses, //Hasn't my day been depressing enough?//
Of course, the indomitable Dorothy Catalonia swept into the room, dressed in her usual expensive attire that hurt his eyes to look at. Her taste had been creative before he'd had to live with her and experience it every day-- now it was plain out tacky and more than a little annoying. "Oh QUAAAATREEE!" she sang, shrilly.
He gritted his teeth, sighing. "YES Dorothy," he asked, tonelessly. He'd discovered through the years that shouting at her was useless because she'd find some way to make him feel like scum, some way to make him miserable, so he'd given up and started greeting her with stoicism. It was the best approach.
"I'm redecorating the mansion this week, dear, so I'm going to need your credit card to go shopping," she began.
He rolled his eyes. //I sense I'm being fucked over again,// he thought, aggravatedly. It was a good thing he was a multi-billionaire or he'd be broke by now. Five years and she had already spent about an eighth of his wealth on her strange tastes. "I thought you just redecorated a month ago."
"Oh, I did, but it's getting so old after a month."
//God, Allah, Buddha, Kami, someone save my soul...// Sighing, he produced his visa and presented it to her, only to have it ripped from his fingers almost painfully. "Is that all or do you have more requests?" he asked, coldly.
She pouted. "Oh, you're so mean. You should loosen up!"
//Sort of hard when I've got paperwork backed up to the colony, a migraine that would take all the Tylenol in the universe to get rid of for five minutes, a wife that scorches a hole in my wallet and no sex life to speak of--because God is merciful. You be me and try to loosen up.// He waved a dismissing hand and set his glasses on the bridge of his nose, then ran a hand wearily through his tousled hair and went back to his figuring.
He was not only the CEO of Winner Resources and about ten branches of that business, but he was also the accountant (since the prior one had been so dumb as to try and rip him off a few thousand a month). Between paperwork, Dorothy, Katie, Katie's school, bills, meetings, health and safety inspections of all of his buildings and satellites, and tax season's hasty approach, Quatre was swamped. Sure, his personal assistance, Lawrence Phychr, was a great burden-lifter (the boy had started as an intern and ended up proving that he was a secretary/hacker, a file manager, a business negotiator and a damn good coffee maker) but he needed more help. Hell, he needed all the gods that existed to save him from this! So much stress could NOT be healthy!
Dorothy swept from the room with his card in her hands, and Quatre waved bye-bye to any thoughts of ever seeing THAT particular one ever again. The woman was like a paper-shredder--put something useful in her clutches and she'll return it worthless, if she returned it at all. Well, at least she was easy to get rid of. His headaches were bad when she was gone, but if she were actually in LOVE with him and insisting on intimacy, the Winner lord would have to have himself committed to an insane asylum.
He sighed as he stamped his signature onto another document (Lawrence was such a handy kid that he had actually had a stamp made with Quatre's exact signature on it, saving him the trouble of writing it). //That would be good right about now,// he thought. //An insane asylum...with a nice, quiet rubber room and a straight jacket...yes sir, that would be heaven. Silence, no Dorothy, no work to worry about, no Heero giving me fathering speeches...//
/'You remember you said that, not me...that you have no time for your daughter.'/
His mind trailed off and he smacked his head against the desk, knocking his glasses right off and onto the floor. //Damn it...I can't help it...// he thought, tears threatening once more. //I wanna hang out with the guys and my baby, but I can't...I have so much to do that I'm lucky to sleep at night...I just...//
Katie's little voice echoed in his head. /'But YOU have to come too!'/
//I wanted to...// he thought, sadly, //I wanted to be the one to take you there, but I just can't honey...I wish you could understand.// Slowly, Quatre pulled his head from the surface of the expensive redwood desk and looked across it at the stand-up frame with the picture of he and Katie in it at the park, she hanging off his arm with a big grin on her face. As he stared at it, a memory numbed his mind.
[\\"Father, can't you come see?" a young, pale-haired boy had asked the man behind the desk, the man he barely knew. "I can play the piano, don't you want to see?"
"I haven't the time, Quatre. Go show your sister."
"She's busy," the boy murmured, sadly. "Can't you just come see?" Upon receiving no response, he became desperate. It was so rare that his father was home, and he wanted him to just tell him that he was a good child--he wanted him to be proud of him. No one noticed him, but maybe if he could so much as get a real, genuine 'that's nice' everything would be okay. "I can play a minute waltz in thirty seconds! I can play blindfolded, even, and not miss a note! Not one!" No response, and the boy felt tears in his eyes. "Please, just come watch me play!"
"Damn it, Quatre, I have too much to do. Go entertain yourself. God knows, I buy you enough things to keep you occupied." His father looked up from the stack of paperwork, massaging his temples. "I haven't the time now, maybe later."
The young boy sighed and turned to leave, then paused as a recent picture caught his eye. It was of he and his father at the park. He remembered being so happy then, and it was only a year ago. What happened? Why had everything changed? Sadly, he left. //He doesn't have time for me.// the poor child thought as he exited the room. //No one has time for me...// \\]
Quatre stared blankly at the picture of himself and Katie, words ringing through his head painfully.
/'I haven't the time, Quatre.'/
//Oh God...//
/'You remember you said that, not me...that you have no time for your daughter'/
[\\"Dada! Wanna see what I can do? I can play the piano thingy! I do good, too! Come see!"
Not glancing up from his paperwork, Quatre nodded his head. "That's nice, honey, Dada's busy right now."
"But I want you to see!" she whined.
He shook his head. Too much to do, no time to play around. He had work to do. "I haven't the time, Katie."
"Please? Please, Dada! I want you to see what I can do!"
"Show your mother."
"She's busy! I can play songs, even with my eyes closed though it's not that good! Please, come watch me, just for a sec!"
That did it. "Katie!" Quatre said, loudly, silencing his daughter. "I said no. I have too much to do--I haven't the time now, maybe later."\\]
"No..." he whispered, staring at the picture, forlornly. It couldn't be, it was too sickening...
Slowly, he lifted himself from his chair and stumbled from the study, carrying himself awkwardly into the bathroom. He splashed water into his face to wash away the sweat that had broken out across his pale brow, then stared at himself in the mirror, his hair standing out in all directions terribly, his eyes reddened by lack of sleep and endless crying. He was so pale and thin, unhealthy, and he looked awful.
The truth hit him like a semi. "I've become my father."
/'I haven't the time, Quatre.'/
"Heero was right," he whispered to himself, staring at his reflection. "I'm a terrible father...I..." he swallowed, then leered at himself, "I don't deserve Katie..."
His stressed-out, pained condition added to this awful revelation brought his anger to a peek, and with an almost animalistic cry, he hauled back and punched the mirror, destroying the smooth surface. Shards of it caught in his knuckles as he pulled them away, but he hardly noticed as he watched the chunks of glass tumble into the marble sink with an unattractive crashing, almost like church chimes struck much too hard. They crashed and shattered.
Still in a dazed rage, Quatre stumbled from the bathroom, and the next thing he knew, he was on the couch in the living room, the television remote seated in his lap as he worked the pieces of glass from his hand. He was sitting awkwardly, feet up on the expensive coffee table, legs spread, the cape of his robe spread across the sofa beneath him like a cloak, eyes half crossed and a scowl in place as he watched little red rivers trickle from the developing holes in his knuckles. It had been a while since he'd been that angry, but now he was cooling down somewhat. He was just depressed again, now, so he was ready to veg out for a while. What better way to get rid of stress than to kill brain-cells?
It was on the news for some stupid reason, but excluding Teletubbies and Sesame Street, there was nothing else on, so he listened dully to it as he picked shining shards from his fist, springing new leaks heedlessly. "Damn mirror," he murmured, grouchily. "Geez...and it goes cutting my hand like that...cheap piece of shit is just supposed to break, not cut me..."
"In other news," the telecaster was saying. It was Midii Une still. (He felt REALLY sorry for HER--his job sucked, HERS was worse. After all, they both did shitty things, but she only got paid seventeen fifty and hour for it.) She looked just as tired as he felt, and it was almost noon. "Business icon, Quatre Rabarba Winner--"
"Jesus, famous and they always mess up the last name," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
"--Is making quite the nuisance of himself on Wallstreet this afternoon. Winner stock shot up another twenty-seven points today--surprise, surprise-- and needless to say, his enemies at Conquest Enterprises are not happy."
Quatre shook his head. "Walker Conquest and his slutty secretary can kiss my ass," he hissed, "Not like HE works thirty-hour works days to go home to a wife that redecorates his house every month or so as a pretense to spend his money. NO, HE lives on a colony with a harem of women and all his money while other people run his business because he's a dumbass." He paused. "I'm talking to myself again, aren't I? Damn it, I need to get a parrot or something--so I don't sound so unstable. God knows I'm NOT stable, as if a Winner ever COULD be--I'm still doing it. STOP!" He sighed. "And I'm shouting at myself. God, someone kill me."
At that remark, an amazingly fat gray cat came running into the room, screeching terribly as a blonde, curly-haired puppy came bolting in after it. It leapt right into his lap, claws an all.
Quatre winced, then pulled Tabitha off the front of his pajamas, holding her up by the scruff of her neck while placing a bare foot against Fluffy's head to keep him at bay. He looked up at the ceiling, scowling. "Okay, I said kill me, not castrate me. Ha ha, very funny." He looked at the huge mass of fur-covered fat with whiskers, "And what's YOUR problem?"
She yowled as Fluffy made a jump for her.
Quatre suddenly smirked, feeling amazingly cruel suddenly, smirked at the cat, then looked at his daughter's puppy, "You want it, boy?"
Tabitha shut up instantly, but Fluffy was nothing but noise.
He grinned at the evil cat, then hauled back and pitched his dear wife's pet across the room. "Fetch, Fluffy!"
"REEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!"
"ARF ARF ARF ARF!!!" And both were gone.
Chuckling coldly, Quatre leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Oh yeah, reality's a bitch, eh Tabby?" he called after the screaming cat. "Welcome to my life."
Suddenly, Quatre's cruel and entertained state disappeared with a cold convulsion as Midii, who had been reporting for the last few moments nonstop, uttered a name that stopped his heart.
"--Triton Bloom--"
"TROWA?!" he practically shrieked, leaping across the room and grabbing the television. Sure enough, the moment he uttered the name, a picture of a certain familiar Silencer and his redheaded sister appeared on the screen, and all sounds--the yowling and barking, shattering of pricy items of décor, the droning of the tired news anchor--faded into the background. Quatre stared in awe at the form before him. He knew it was Trowa...he would know him anywhere...but he looked so different now.
The boy he had known as a teenager, stoic and silent--the boy he had loved-- had been pale, gaunt and gloomy...but now, now he was a god. His eyes scanned languishingly over seeming miles of toned muscles and golden flesh, slid over the plane of now sun-kissed, golden-copper hair (which there was now much more of), and locked on the deep jade eyes that had haunted his dreams for years. It was really him, but he had changed so drastically...and yet, he knew it was him--those eyes, that face, that awful scowl, all of it was so irrefutably Trowa that it HAD to be him.
Was Midii still talking? What on earth could possibly be more important than Trowa?
"--a very level-headed man' says the president of the CAASA foundation, Blayne Andrews, who, in fact, is the very man in charge of shutting circuses down. 'Mr. Bloom proved us wrong in our beliefs that the Trinity was an animal slave-trade...indeed, his animals are no more slaves than his friends themselves, the workers of the circus, and we of CAASA sincerely extend a thank-you to the man that opened our eyes to the truth.' Coming from Mr. Andrews, one of the greatest naturalists ever to live, this is QUITE an astonishing commendation--"
"Oh Trowa," Quatre whispered, faintly. "You've been busy, ne...?"
Fluffy bolted up behind him, shocking him out of his reverie. "Arf!"
"Huh?" He blinked a few times, then looked down at the puppy, whose mouth was now full of gray fuzz. "Fluffy, did you eat Tabitha?" he asked, weakly.
The dog shook his head, then sneezed, and out came a huge ball of fur.
Quatre winced, then looked up as a half-bald tabby cat came stumbling in. "Ugh. At least she isn't dead."
Fluffy took off after the beaten cat, who was gone in an instant with a scream.
The blonde turned his attention back to the television, frowning as he realized that Midii was talking again and the picture was gone. The shock of seeing Trowa again was wearing off and giving way to a sickening depression that was making him ill, and as he sunk back to the floor, ignoring the chaos reining around him, he closed his eyes, fighting the inevitable tears. That was the one thing that could have made his life worse--Trowa, the man that he had (and still) loved, in perfect health, successful, beautiful and further out of his reach than ever. It was crushing to think. The part of him that was ever the martyr, the one that loved everyone and everything and wished nothing but the best for others, wanted him to be happy for his secret love--after all, if anyone deserved happiness and success in this life, it was Trowa--but the childish bitterness in him, the part that was still throwing a tantrum over losing him, was making him miserable.
//He's happy,// one side said. //He has money, friends, a place to belong and he's probably already found HIS true love, so why pity yourself when HE'S found happiness? What more could you wish for him?//
//SCREW him!// the other side shrieked, angrily. //What about YOU?! All you do is suffer and work and suffer some more, fearing the day when Dorothy asks you to sleep with her, the day when Katie grows up and leaves you with this bitch, and for what? Nothing! Do YOU ever get what you want? NO! YOU should have Trowa all to yourself, idiot! You should have confessed when you had the chance! STUPID! Who CARES if he's happy?! YOU could make him happier, and you wouldn't be miserable if you weren't such a MORON!//
He fisted handfuls of his hair, ignoring the stinging of his bleeding fist as he sat on his knees in front of the television, tears pouring down his cheeks. "DAMN ME!" he shouted, forlornly.
WHY? Why was it ALWAYS HIM that had to suffer? Why couldn't he find happiness? What was WRONG with the world that he could NEVER really escape the evils of it? Would he ALWAYS have to suffer this way? WHY did God HATE him so much?!
He looked up as Midii repeated the name that plagued his mind, staring through the tears at the man he had lost because of his own foolishness, agony gripping his chest. Childishly, he reached up and let his fingers graze the cold glass of the television screen, a sense of mental disorder compelling him to speak as if Trowa could really hear him. Something inside of him seemed to die, and at the exact same moment, something else seemed to bloom like a wildfire, painfully, making him wince as he stared at the form he knew so well from his tortured dreams. "Trowa..." he whispered, despairingly, clutching the front of his shirt with his other hand as the pain flared up again. He smiled, sadly. "I wonder...maybe that's why I hurt so much without you...because you stole my heart, and how can someone live without their heart...?" He sighed, tearfully. "I should have told you...but I'll say it now...I love you, Trowa...I love you..."
~
"Trowa!"
The green-eyed man ignored the calls of his sister as he sat on his knees in full costume, clutching the discarded newspaper clipping in his hands with restrained tears glittering in his eyes. //I can't do this,// he thought. //I can't...//
"Trowa, where ARE you?"
//I can't. I won't, I refuse.//
The curtains parted and Catherine paused in the doorway, peering into the darkness of the storage area. "Triton Bloom, if you are sulking again with five minutes until you're supposed to perform, I swear I will strip you down, paint you pink and kick you out into that ring buck naked, I mean it."
Trowa almost smiled, but the gesture failed and he sighed, softly, tucking the clipping under a crate to hide it and setting his hands on the ground. "I'm here," he said, faintly, "But I'm not sulking...just thinking..."
"Well, that's enough thinking, Trowa," she said, flatly, putting her hands on her hips. "You're supposed to be out there soon and I can't stall much longer. Damn it, these people came to see YOU if anyone, you dork, so stop giving excuses and get UP!"
He shook his head. "Catherine...I don't want to perform."
She gasped. "WHAT?"
"You heard me," he sighed. "I...I can't do it anymore. Send someone else out in my place."
"But there IS no one else, Trowa! You're the top act, everyone wants to see YOU!"
He shook his head again, lowering his eyes as she approached, casting her shadow over him. "I won't."
"You WILL!" she shouted. "You are NOT going to throw another fit and disappoint your fans just because you're having issues!"
"You don't understand," he hissed.
"I DO understand! It's that damn boy again, Quatre Winner, and I swear, if he ruins ONE MORE SHOW for us, I will do something crazy like ASSASSINATE HIM!" She fisted a handful of his hair and pulled him to his feet, then turned him around, pulling him down by his shoulder to her level (being that he had a foot on her at least). "Trowa, you can sulk all you want when we're on the road, but when we are doing shows you have to suck it up and do your part! I feel for you, really I do, but when your depression threatens the show I have to put my foot down!" She looked at her watch, then turned her wrist to show him the time, practically smacking him in the face with it. "Now you have ONE MINUTE and if you don't haul ass I will be getting mean."
He sighed, nodding weakly, then dusted himself off and cracked his knuckles. "Fine."
Catherine looked at her watch, then sighed and put her glittery top-hat back on. "Trowa, you know I love you, little brother, but you have to take responsibility. Be ready."
He watched her walk away, then ran a hand through his bangs and sighed, closing his eyes. //Why me...//
~
Katie continued to bounce in her seat as Catherine Bloom reappeared in the center ring. "This is so neato!" she cried, excitedly.
Heero nodded, smirking over at Duo as his love mussed the girl's feathery hair. "Isn't it?"
"And it's about to get even MORE neato," Duo chuckled, holding up his program. He gestured to the name on the roster following the snake charmer's act and Heero nodded. "A man's gonna walk on a tightrope next."
"Wha's a tightrope?"
Duo pointed to the two main pillars standing one each in the center of the two outer rings, indicating the thin wire stretched between them. "That."
She gasped. "Oh, that's HIGH! What if he falls down?! Will somebody catch him?!"
Heero shook his head, frowning slightly. "No, Katie, he doesn't HAVE anyone to catch him..." She looked up at him, as did Duo--with more meaning in his stare--and he offered them both a weak smile. "But don't worry...he doesn't know how to fall anyway."
Duo nodded, solemnly, and Katie blinked, but didn't say anything. They all turned their attention to the center ring as Catherine Bloom continued to rile the crowd.
"Now, for our grand finale! I'm sure you've all had fun this afternoon, and what else are we for but fun...however, now for your own personal entertainment, we will thrill you like no other. You'll only see it here at the Trinity Traveling Circus--for no other circus in the business can do it like we can."
Catherine beamed, then strode to the center of the ring, sighing dramatically as floaty piano music began to play.
"Before I introduce him, however, I'm going to share a little background of the Trinity with you of the audience. Believe it or not, it was his parents- -and mine, I might add--that first helped to get the hundred-and-twenty- year-old Trinity Circus off the ground back in the old days, almost thirty years ago, and they stared as the headliners for the show: the Flying Blooms! Yes, trapeze and tightrope working have been the backbone of the circus since the beginning, and that's why our current closing act decided to take a cue from Mom and Dad, God rest them." She sighed, dreamily, then laughed over the soft, floaty music. "Well, who thinks I've stalled long enough?"
The crowd cheered and Katie jumped up on the bench, giggling and clapping between her uncles, who smiled in good humor. "Yay! C'mon, I wanna see the man that can walk the rope!"
"Well..." she put a finger to her chin, huffing, "Maybe...huh, maybe he doesn't have to come out yet. I mean, he's been a little blue lately so maybe we should just CANCEL the show!"
A roar of boos filled the tent.
Catherine laughed, then looked off to the side, toward the curtained backstage, as a green spotlight flickered on and turned to point to it. "Oh, THERE he is! Oh?" She smirked and put her hands on her hips. "Looks like SOMEONE'S being bashful! Maybe we SHOULD cancel!"
Even MORE booing.
"Hear that, bro? I think you're in demand!" She frowned again, then turned and lifted her hands. "C'mon, ya wanna see him? Better convince him, people!"
Heero smirked and covered Katie's ears as a deafening explosion of cheers rang out. Duo plugged his ears, laughing.
Catherine beamed again, then looked off-stage with a laugh. "Ready now? Okay!" She cleared her throat and waved to the audience as the lights changed from blue, red and purple to deep green and gold. "I think you did it!"
More fanfare, even louder, and Katie giggled. "I can't hear, but it's funny anyway!"
"Now...in~troducing...MY baby brother...the ONE, the ONLY, Triton Bloom, the Acrobat King of the High Wire!"
As the applause broke out and the shouts, cheers and whistles became overpowering, Duo stepped up onto the bench for a clearer view, taking Katie up into his arms. Sighing, Heero followed suit. After all, it had been a long time since he had seen Trowa, and the Latin youth had been a close friend to him, almost closer than his lover in some respects. He wanted to be able to see him.
The man that stepped into the center ring with Catherine was almost too much to take in with just one glance. He was roughly six-foot three inches, much taller than even Heero, dressed in jade green spandex pants with golden tiger stripes going up the legs and matching straps crossing over his bare, muscular chest in an X like ammunition belts. His skin was tanned, and his copper hair was golden highlighted, worn in a familiar style like a curved-in claw over the right side of his face, but as he strode, bathed in his spotlight, the slightest hint of a ponytail could be spotted swinging between his shoulderblades. His left ear was pierced by a gaudy golden hoop, and over the right side of his thin profile, nearly hidden by his bangs, was half of a clown mask with a big smile that contrasted with the stern expression he wore. It was almost like looking at another person, but it was undeniably the zero-three pilot.
Before Heero could even gasp, Duo exploded. "Holy Christ on fire!" he shrieked. "DAMN, Heero, LOOK at him! Is THAT really TROWA?!"
"It couldn't be anyone else," he said, allowing the slightest hint of a smile to curve his lips. Despite the changes, it was good to see Trowa again. Embarrassing as it was to admit it, he'd missed him.
Katie blinked. "Hey, I seed him on the TV!" she exclaimed. Then, she frowned. "Oh, he still isn't smiling! Somebody should tickle him!"
Heero shot Duo a warning look to keep him from making any comments there, and it worked, but he still received the customary mischievous smirk in return.
Catherine patted his shoulder, and Heero, keen as his eyes were, was able to spot just how rough that pat was, enough to leave a red mark in its wake. Apparently, there was some friction between sister and brother. "Let's here it for the youngest Bloom, everyone!"
The audience cheered and Trowa bowed in a fashion that was typically him, stepping gracefully back with one foot behind the other and bending at the waist, hands positioned strategically in the way of an old-style gentleman. Then, he headed out of the center ring and toward the pillar furthest from the stands.
They both sat down as Catherine left the center ring for the sidelines and Trowa scaled the pole to the tightrope. The music changed from the soft piano music to something a little faster and jazzier, and as he took his place on the platform, slipping his shoes off and cracking his knuckles, Catherine continued to talk from the shadows.
"Remember, ladies and gentlemen, do NOT try this at home. My brother is a trained professional, and you must realize that the stunts he will perform are very carefully practiced over and over again--however, they are no less DANGEROUS, and ONE SLIP could make me an only child, as you'll notice his lack of a net. He absolutely refuses to use one, which is yet another thing that makes him the greatest."
Heero had never been to one of Trowa's shows before, but he had seen him pull a high wire stunt before in a tight spot, and from what he had heard from Duo, he was really good.
Of course, to earn a title like King of the High Wire, he had to be adept at it.
Trowa started his way onto the rope barefoot, and the moment he stepped onto it, the gasps began. Katie watched in awe, practically bouncing in her seat, as he made his way slowly across, looking almost bored. He made a show of it, splaying his arms out to either side and wobbling exaggeratedly as he went, though Heero knew just as well as Trowa himself did that he had done things like this before--in boots, fully dressed, carrying a backpack with his hands in his pockets. This was easy for him, but he was making it look hard for show, and it was working.
"Wow," Katie whispered. "That's soooo neato..."
Trowa continued across until he made it roughly to the center, then stopped faking it and stood upright, folding his arms and pausing a moment to check his fingernails. Half the audience snickered while the other half murmured about how dangerous it was, him being at least thirty-five to forty feet in the air and acting like it was no big thing. Then, he took one foot from the rope, balancing on the other, and bent over, grabbing it with one hand. With one quick movement, he flipped up onto that one hand right in the center of the rope and balanced, splaying his legs out and doing the splits in the air with his other hand fisted against his lower back.
Heero blinked. He WAS good!
Slowly, Trowa brought his legs up until they met, then leaned forward a bit, catching himself on his other hand. Now he was in a handstand on the wire, and the audience was having trouble keeping quiet. He continued across on his hands, balancing expertly and holding his weight up evenly in an almost impossible pose, for about another fourth of the rope, then stopped again and threw himself into the air, soaring so high it looked like he might hit the roof of the tent. He did a triple-axle with a half- twist and landed on his feet about a foot from the end of the rope, balancing perfectly on one foot, arms locked at his sides, other leg drawn up behind the first.
The crowd exploded into loud applause as Trowa stood absolutely still on the tightrope, not having broken a sweat from his exertions of amazing strength and control. It really was him...no one else could possibly be so super-human.
Duo and Heero exchanged glances as the audience gave him a standing ovation, then nodded. Trowa was damn close to them now, only a few feet above and about ten feet away--in the perfect position to see Katie. The braided man took his niece into his arms and stepped up onto the bench, then boosted her onto his right shoulder as Heero took a place next to him, ready to draw attention. As soon as the volume was down to an acceptable level, the soldier set his fingers to his mouth and whistled one long, shrill note...an old signal.
Trowa, being as alert as his friend knew he was, subconsciously recognized the sound and looked right toward it--and the color drained from his face as his single visible eye locked on the blonde girl seated on Duo's shoulder.
~
//Oh no...// the acrobat thought, numbly, stepping back on the tightrope tensely as his eyes scanned the features of the adorable child. //It can't be...she...she CAN'T be...//
But it was unquestionable. His eyes combed the young features, locking for extended amounts of time on the feathery blonde hair, upturned nose and wide, cerulean eyes. He wanted to deny it, he wanted to think it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he knew who this was, and the company she kept reassured him. Duo and Heero were with her, and that made it final.
That was Quatre's daughter, the baby girl he had seen that day at the hospital five years ago...
[\\She was beautiful--just looking at her made him want to smile--and she looked just like her father. She was so small...that much was almost haunting...and yet, it was absolutely undeniable. This was Quatre's daughter...and she was beautiful.
Quatre tried to offer her to him, but he demurred with a muttered, "No," and continued to look at her. He carefully reached out to touch her hand, then blinked as she instantly grabbed his finger, looking up at him strangely.
Something passed between them silently as her father stood there with the nurse, looking on in ignorance.
And then, the baby stuck his finger in her mouth. He almost laughed at the odd sensation and the release of tense pressure in his chest as he peered down at her, entertained by the innocent, infantile action. She was such a sweet baby...
...she was Quatre's baby...and DOROTHY'S...
That shattered the small, glass shard of happiness within him. His eyes darted up to the blonde man's childlike features for just an instant, and he was thankful that Quatre didn't notice, but the ache that exploded inside of him was unbearable. The recurring realization that his little crush had slept with that terrible creature and created a child out of wedlock made him sick, and angry, and it hurt more than anything he had ever endured. He couldn't stand it.
Taking his hand from the baby and, regrettingly, patted Quatre on his shoulder, then turned to go, shuddering as his name slipped softly from the blonde's lips, questioningly.
"Trowa?"
"It was nice seeing you again, Quatre," he lied. Nice? No, it was painful, and the smallest bit of hope he had been harboring was ripped from him as he left the room, drawing his cell phone from his pocket and hitting autodial to call Catherine.
She answered in a heartbeat. "Trowa?"
"Hi, Catherine. Tell the troupe I'll be back shortly."
Pity dripped from her voice as she spoke, "I...I thought you'd be there longer..."
As he passed the window, looking tentatively at father and daughter from the outside and feeling more outcast than ever, he answered instantly, anger and pain in his words as he left the Winner heir and his heart behind. "Yeah, well you thought wrong."\\]
The world suddenly tilted then, and Trowa realized with a gasp that he had slipped off the tightrope, but with a quick, jerky motion, he caught it with one hand, barely managing to save himself before plummeting to his doom. With a gasping pant, he sighed, shuddering. //Holy God...//
~
"Did he fall?!" Katie exclaimed, hoping to see over the panicking crowd by squirming.
Heero quickly took her down and sat her on the bench, sighing with relief. "No, he's okay." //That was close...//
"Jesus Christ, he almost fell..." Duo hissed to him. "Did YOU think he'd react like that?"
He didn't answer out of shame and his koibito's eyes narrowed on him, harshly. After a moment, he looked up at Trowa, who was still hanging from the rope by one hand. "I had a feeling...but at least Part A is complete."
"Part wha?" Katie asked.
Duo shushed her, then the two of them looked up as the audience suddenly calmed down.
Heero blinked, then sighed. Unsurprisingly, Trowa was making the fall look like part of the act, hanging there with a smirk on his face while checking his wristwatch on his free hand. He watched as the acrobat flipped himself dangerously back onto the rope. He paused a moment, back to the crowd, then, slowly...looked back over his shoulder...and leered, right at Duo and Heero, his visible eye so narrow that it almost looked like a slit. Then, with a glorious fake smile, he stunned the entire crowd with a show of cartwheels and flips performed while running on the wire in the other direction, heading back to the other platform.
"He's gonna kill us," Duo murmured, smirking darkly.
"Most likely."
"Well..." Duo's face broke into an evil grin, "All's fair in fated love and social war, eh, koi?"
Heero smirked, slightly, then nodded. "Affirmative."
"Heh heh, hey, Katiekins," Duo patted the girl on her head, "You wanna MEET that guy?"
She blinked. "Um...I dunno," she sighed, looking down, "He looked at me and fell off...maybe I scareded him."
Duo looked over her at Heero, who nodded, and the braided boy smirked. "I think WE scared him, babydoll."
"Okay then!"
The two evil uncles quickly scooped their niece up and made their way from the stands as Catherine Bloom began making a cover for her brother's near- fatal accident and began closing the show. Without pause, the trio exited the tent to go find Trowa.
~
//I can NOT believe this,// Trowa thought, tensely, as he planted himself on an unopened crate, surrounded by half the performers, all of whom were still in costume.
"Vat ish going on? Vat is wrong with Tarowa?" Archibald looked down at Cassíme, who was wiping the intricate animal makeup from his face with a cloth.
The fire-eater continued his task, scoffing. "He fell off the rope--first time ever, too. He looked ready to piss himself."
Precious, Isabella's snake, snapped at the little Arabian threateningly, silencing him, then coiled himself back around her shoulders as she cooed over the shaken Latin acrobat.
"Are you going to be okay, Trowa?" she whispered, "That was pretty close up there...but you covered it well..."
"I'm fine," he lied. No, he wasn't fine. He was FAR from fine, after seeing the child of the one person he had been thinking about all day. It was almost sickeningly coincidental--and he didn't like it.
In no time, Catherine came in, looking worried. The others all moved to allow his sister passage, and the moment she was within range, she grabbed him by his bare shoulders, giving him a hard shake. "Trowa, what happened?! Are you all right? You aren't HURT are you?"
He stared up at her, glazed eyes scarcely able to take her in, but before she could go into a hysterical 'call the hospital' fit, he snapped out of it. "No, I'm okay...my hand hurts a little, but I should be fine..."
She stared at him, hard, gripping his shoulders with such force that it hurt. With a dark look, she sent the others scattering, then turned on him. "You just froze up there! What HAPPENED?! You could have DIED, damn it, why did you DO that?!"
"I..." He couldn't fathom what to say, so he said nothing at all, allowing his voice to trail off and leave him. What COULD he say? "I saw a little girl and she looked just like Quatre, so I stared at her and fell off, I'm sorry"? Not a chance! She'd ream him a new one! He shook his head, looking down at the horizontal rope-burn in his palm made by his catching the wire barehanded. //God, could it GET any worse?//
Suddenly, a beam of sunlight broke through the dimness of the backstage tent, and as Trowa looked up, his heart stopped. There, standing in the entryway with the curtains pulled back and clutched in either hand, was Duo, and standing with him were Heero...and Quatre's daughter.
//It just got worse.//
Catherine looked up. "Excuse me, but it's against policies for audience members to--" she trailed off, then, as she recognized the two adults. "...Duo Maxwell? And Heero Yuy?" She looked down at him, "Trowa, look who-- "
But he wasn't paying attention to her anymore. He was staring at the girl, and she was staring back, her little hands behind her back. She was dressed cutely in a fuzzy purple cargo vest, tan stretch-pants and a giant pink sweater that hung down to her mid-thighs, and she was bouncing on the heels of her dress-shoes excitedly. Just looking at her made him think of Quatre, the boy with the old-style fashion sense that had loved to dress similarly. The moment his eyes met hers, she beamed, gripping Heero's huge hand in her own little one and only managing to fist his index and middle fingers in her grip. He was absolutely stunned.
"Hey, Tro!" Duo said, energetically, snapping him from his reverie. He looked at the braided man, noting that he hadn't changed, short of getting taller, and read through the seemingly harmless, friendly expression he wore, seeing right to the evil behind it. The moment his eyes hit him, he realized that the hyper zero-two pilot had SOMETHING running through his crooked mind. "Long time no see, buddy!"
"Too long," Heero added. HE had changed. He was much taller, almost tall enough to rival the acrobat king himself, and running up and down his exposed, tan biceps and forearms in amazingly detained designs were artistic tribal tattoos, all in black like distorted iron spikes. One on his right shoulder was woven to form a black skull with fangs and another twined into a twisted rose shape. His build was even more impressive than before, and he looked rougher, but in the same sense, there was something much more free in his eyes, much more gentle and happy, accepting of his fate. He had finally dropped his emotionless façade. "Hi Trowa."
Catherine beamed. "HI guys!" she exclaimed. "Wow, great to see you two again!"
Duo grinned. "You too, Cathy. Just as beautiful as ever."
"From a gay man, that isn't a compliment."
"BISEXUAL, thank you very much," Duo retorted. Heero pinned him with a bitter look, then, and he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Well, marginally. Still, you look good. So do you, Tro." He suddenly beamed, and that underlying evil shone through again.
Catherine didn't see it (she wasn't trained to), but she DID see the blonde girl standing between the two ex-pilots. She knelt down. "OH, and who's THIS? Did you two adopt?"
"Oh no," Heero said, shaking his head. "We're babysitting for...a friend."
Trowa felt his inborn sixth sense for danger go off, but it was danger of a sort that he wasn't accustomed to--the kind that DIDN'T attack the body. //Why do I have the feeling...//
"Oh?" Catherine smiled, taking the girl's hand. "What's your name, sweetie?"
The girl beamed, beautifully, and once again he remembered her father--and it hurt. "I'm Katherine Iria Winner, but YOU can call me Katie!" she exclaimed.
His sister blinked. "Katherine? WINNER?" She looked back at Trowa, who mentally winced at the penetrating stare she gave him. Something in her eyes just screamed of the thoughts of hope for him running through her mind, though all were in vain. She turned back to the child, smiling. "That's sort of cool," she said, slowly, "MY name's Catherine too."
"I know!" the child cried, giggling. "I sawed you on the news! I is SO glad to meet ya!"
"That's 'I am,' not 'I is,' " Heero murmured.
Katie giggled. "Oopsies."
Catherine snickered herself, then looked back at Trowa, who was wishing at that moment to be ANYWHERE but HERE. "Oh, so you heard of us, eh? Maybe you should meet my brother, TROWA."
He winced, visibly this time, then stood up and cleared his throat, pinning Duo with a look of distrust before looking weakly at the child, who stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes that made his heart ache with the memory of who she had earned them from. She looked nothing like her mother--not even a slight resemblance was discernible (thank God).
She beamed up at him as Catherine moved aside, giving him a nudge with her elbow before fading into the background. The girl offered him a tiny hand, grinning happily and giggling. "Hi, I'm Katie!"
Slowly, he knelt down on the ground, then accepted her little hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. The moment his hand hit hers, a familiar feeling sparked within him...a very familiar feeling...and softly, he smiled, lowering his eyes. "Hello...Katie...I'm Trowa."
She paused a moment, giving him an almost confused pout, then tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, her bangs shifting to completely reveal her wide eyes and her ponytail swishing into sight with a pale, golden shimmer. She didn't say anything.
Trowa blinked, then glanced at Duo and Heero, who shared his expression. What was she going?
"Katie?" Heero said, carefully, "What's the matter?"
Then, without warning, she pulled her hand from his and snatched it by his index finger and pinkie. She tugged his arm until his hand fell into the narrow beam of sunlight, filtering in through the open doorway, then examined it. "Hmm..." she cooed, blinking, childish concentration written on her cute little face as she narrowed her eyes on it.
Trowa blinked again. //What is she...?//
But his thought was never finished, because suddenly, a giant grin split her face and her eyes flew open wide. "I know you!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down. "I remember you!"
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
Then, the next thing he knew, she was in his arms, clinging to him and giggling angelically with her uncles and his sister staring on in surprise. "You were there when I was a baby! I remember your hand, and--" she stopped, then reached up with both hands and removed his clown-mask, staring right into his eyes. She grinned, then dropped it and clung to him again. "I remember YOU!"
"How cute!" Catherine cooed.
He blinked, then blinked again, trying to decipher what she had said, and slowly, he lifted his right hand, looking at it. //She remembers my hand?//
She drew away from him a moment, taking his hand, then pressed a gentle kiss to his index finger with a smile and clung to him again.
[\\He carefully reached out to touch her hand, then blinked as she instantly grabbed his finger, looking up at him...and then, the baby stuck his finger in her mouth.\\]
Could she possibly...remember that far back? Was it humanly POSSIBLE for a child to recall moments in infancy, especially those so amazingly early in life? Apparently so! He wouldn't be one to know, having lost his memories of infancy days after birth, but it certainly seemed that she really did know him...
"Twowa..." she whispered, smiling against his neck. He gulped, confused, then gasped as she spoke again, whispering audibly to him. "Are you my other daddy?"
Catherine gasped, Duo choked and Heero's mouth fell open, and Trowa felt his heart stop right in his chest at the innocent question. Did she just ask him--?! No! He was hearing things! He looked at the others one at a time, begging silently for some kind of reassurance that he was hallucinating, but not one of them could offer it to him. They had all heard it, and Katie had said it. She had...really asked if he was her OTHER father...as if someone had told her she had another besides Quatre...
He swallowed, hard, then carefully took her from his shoulder and forced himself to speak, his voice much more steady than his expression and his hands. "Katie...you can only have ONE father..."
She pouted, shaking her head. "But I didn't SAY father, I said DADDY-- there's a difference, you know!" She giggled at his bewildered expression, then reached out and cupped his cheek with her little hand, tenderly. "I KNOW who my father is--he's my Dada, Katwa--but a DADDY is different. He's my Daddy too, but I remember you from when I was really li'l. Maybe that means you're my other daddy!" She paused again, frowning. "You look scareded, did I scareded you?"
He shook his head, weakly, and gently placed his hand over hers, smiling sadly as that odd feeling once again clutched his heart. He didn't know why, but somehow, he couldn't be afraid of her anymore...he couldn't think of her as the result of his worst nightmare. She was a little angel...and he couldn't bear to think of it any other way. So precious, so pure...so loving. "There's...only one ed on scared..." he said, softly, "And it's...it's 'did I scare you.' "
"Oh...oopsies. Did I scare you?"
"No...no, you didn't, Katie."
Heero gave him a penetrating look that almost made him think the soldier was PROUD of him, but he brushed it off and turned his attention to the little girl in his hands, and he noticed with a frown that she was pouting.
Suddenly, her hand came up and the back of it rubbed across his left eye, surprising him. "You shouldn't cry," she said, softly.
He blinked, then sighed as he realized that he HAD started crying, but not out of any sadness or pain...but more out of confusion...and maybe even a little bit out of happiness. "Why?"
She wiped his other eye with the sleeve of her pink sweater, then kissed his forehead, smiling. "B'cuz nobody as pretty as you should haf'ta cry."
He smiled, weakly, then gently touched her cheek with his quivering fingers. She beamed and nuzzled his hand in return. "Katie..."
"Katiekins," Duo said, suddenly, "We have to go soon."
She frowned at him, and he frowned back, saddened by the unbecoming expression. "Aww...okies." She looked back at the braided man and his soldier, both of whom were standing in the doorway with almost pitying looks on their faces. "Can we come back?"
"Tonight," Heero said. "If you can stay awake long enough, we'll bring you back for the next show tonight."
She nodded, then turned back to Trowa and kissed his forehead again, tenderly. Then, she smiled at him, not beaming this time but just smiling, and his heart ached as he remembered her sire once more. "Twowa, will you be here?"
He nodded, weakly.
"Okay then..." she suddenly tilted her head again, "Twowa?"
"Huh?"
"Can I call you Papa?"
Duo and Heero both smirked from the entrance to the tent and Catherine cooed, softly, covering her mouth. All was silent from then on.
Numbly, the Latin acrobat nodded his head, then sighed as she kissed his cheek again and skipped back to her uncles. He watched as she disappeared from his sight with Duo, then looked up at Heero, who remained in the entrance, looking down at him, expressionless. They stared at each other that way for what felt like forever, a thousand little eternities.
Suddenly, the perfect soldier smiled, then flicked a stray lock of chocolate hair from his face and looked away, bowing his head. "You know," he said, smoothly, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and retrieving a pair of sunglasses, "She calls Quatre Dada...so I hope you feel special, Trowa."
He didn't say anything, nor even move so much as an eyelash in reaction, though inside, everything was doing cartwheels.
Heero sighed, nodding, then put on the shades with a smile. "See you tonight, I guess." He bowed his head to Catherine. "Nice seeing you again." Then, he turned away and headed off after the retreating backs of Katie and Duo, and the curtain he held open swung closed, locking the Bloom siblings in the dim darkness again.
Thoughtlessly, Trowa scrambled almost blindly in the dim light to the curtain and pulled it open to watch them go, still experiencing a jumble of emotions ranging from confusion to sadness, with even a bit of dull joy mixed in. He sat on his knees in the entrance, tent curtain in hand, then smiled as Katie looked back and waved to him.
Catherine quickly knelt behind him, taking his shoulders supportively. "I wonder," she whispered, "If that little girl is the doctor that can help you reclaim that lost leg of yours, Trowa."
He almost retorted, but paused in mid-thought and smiled very weakly, staring off after the sweet little girl that reminded him so of his lost love. Maybe...just maybe...his sister was right.
Maybe.
****
To Be Continued
Xandra: Review, people, and thanx for reading!
****
My Little Katie
By Xandra
Chapter Two: King of the High Wire
****
"I've never been to a circus before!" Katie cried as Duo lifted her off the motorcycle and set her on her feet. Heero accepted the helmets back and hooked them to the seat behind him, then revved the engine and took the black bike off to park it.
"First time for everything, baby," Duo said, eyeing his lover astride the Harley. Sometimes he wondered if Heero loved that bike more than he loved the braided baka himself, but then again, he didn't sleep with his bike-- not yet, anyway. It got to the point that Duo was starting to question the soldier's attachment. He'd probably marry the damn thing if he could! Thank God for common-law marriage! He kissed the ring on his finger for luck, then looked down at Katie, who was spinning on the heels of her little penny-loafers. She wanted to see everything there was to see, he could tell, and she was loving every moment of it--and they weren't even inside yet! Smiling, he set a hand on her head and looked up at the familiar red- and-yellow-stripped tent. "Wha'cha think, kid?"
"It's great!" she exclaimed, clapping excitedly. Then, she paused and looked up at him, taking his hand in both of hers by gripping his pinkie and thumb, cutely. "Mama says a circus is a bad thing with stupid, tacky people in it, where idiots pay to see animals run around like dumb things for peanuts and embarrass themselves. Is that true, Doodle?"
//Dorothy is SUCH a...damn! It should be illegal to be that much of a bitch!// He smiled down at her, throwing his braid back over his shoulder. "No, honey, it's not. A circus is a place for people to go and be entertained by talented people and their special pets."
"Oh," she said, beaming. "I thought so!"
Heero strode up, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. "Ready?"
"Yeah!" Katie cheered, happily. Her joy was contagious, because suddenly, Duo's already bubbling excitement sparked by the scheme he and his koi had concocted became impossible to contain. "Let's go! Let's go!"
Duo sent Heero a curious glance, then beamed as his stoic love smiled at him, warming his heart. Grabbing his hand, the braided man allowed the blonde girl to drag he and his love to the tent. "Think this'll work?" he whispered to Heero.
He nodded. "If Trowa doesn't spot her when he's on the tightrope, we'll just have to go backstage after the show and perform introductions. She's already said that she wants to make him smile, and knowing him, he'll be so stunned he won't be able to argue or run."
"Good."
"Whispering is rude, Doodle!" Katie said, scoldingly, giving his finger a mean little squeeze.
He smirked. "Oww! Hey, be nice to me!"
"Stop whispering back there!" she said.
He nodded, then looked at Heero, who smirked at him. "I sorry, Katiekins."
"S'okay, but behave yourselfs! We's in public!"
Duo smiled, then allowed Katie to drag he and Heero into the large tent, where they quickly found their seats--at the very top of the stands, nearest one of the tightrope's anchor posts. That way, if Trowa did his act, he wouldn't miss them...especially not Katie. Her sense of style was pure serendipity--she looked just like a little Quatre in her leggings, sweater, vest, penny-loafers and ponytail--and it was almost absolutely certain that Trowa would spot her for that reason. Luck was with them!
Katie sat between her two uncles and fidgeted as the music started for the show to begin, and she cheered as synthetic fireworks went up right in the tent (which was perfectly safe because they were laser lights with sound effects). "Ooh! Pretty!" she cheered, clinging to Duo's arm. "Is it ALL gonna be this pretty?"
"I'm sure it will," he said, smiling over her head at Heero, who smirked in return.
Suddenly, a light focused on a spot in the center ring far below them, shifting from red to purple to blue and back, and with an explosion of sparkling smoke, a form appeared, dressed in a metallic, tri-colored suit to match the light with a large top-hat on its head. At first, it looked like a man, but as the light suddenly turned gold and the performer removed the hat, the feminine body became apparent, and the face of Catherine Bloom was revealed. Her image came up on a large screen at the head of the tent for those who couldn't see. Her lovely face was painted by pale makeup, with metallic eyeshadow and lipstick in glittering colors of blue, purple and red that made her look funny, pretty and exotic at the same time. Reaching into the top-hat, she brought a microphone from the recesses and tossed it aside, her curls bouncing exuberantly as the lights and effects exploded all around her, astonishingly.
//Wow, they really jazzed it up!// Duo thought, recalling the old days when Trowa had worked here as a simple clown, wearing a freakishly goofy outfit. The most high-tech thing they had owned back then was a spotlight! NOW they had laser effects, cameras, music and all of that cool stuff!
"Welcome, one and all, boys and girls of ALL ages!" she cried, striking up excitement in the crowd. "I am Catherine Bloom, and this, my friends, is by far the oldest and greatest show in the universe! We of the Trinity bid you welcome to our home, and we pray you will enjoy our performance! Remember, though, as you watch our show, that the truth in what you see is never certain--and our secret lies behind a glittery curtain." She paused, then laughed. "Hey, I'm a poet and I didn't even know it! Ha!"
The crowd laughed and Duo smiled to himself. She hadn't changed very much.
"Enjoy the show, folks!"
**** ~
Quatre sat back in his chair and took another sip of his coffee, then sighed deeply as his study door opened. //What does she want now?// he thought, wearily, removing his reading glasses, //Hasn't my day been depressing enough?//
Of course, the indomitable Dorothy Catalonia swept into the room, dressed in her usual expensive attire that hurt his eyes to look at. Her taste had been creative before he'd had to live with her and experience it every day-- now it was plain out tacky and more than a little annoying. "Oh QUAAAATREEE!" she sang, shrilly.
He gritted his teeth, sighing. "YES Dorothy," he asked, tonelessly. He'd discovered through the years that shouting at her was useless because she'd find some way to make him feel like scum, some way to make him miserable, so he'd given up and started greeting her with stoicism. It was the best approach.
"I'm redecorating the mansion this week, dear, so I'm going to need your credit card to go shopping," she began.
He rolled his eyes. //I sense I'm being fucked over again,// he thought, aggravatedly. It was a good thing he was a multi-billionaire or he'd be broke by now. Five years and she had already spent about an eighth of his wealth on her strange tastes. "I thought you just redecorated a month ago."
"Oh, I did, but it's getting so old after a month."
//God, Allah, Buddha, Kami, someone save my soul...// Sighing, he produced his visa and presented it to her, only to have it ripped from his fingers almost painfully. "Is that all or do you have more requests?" he asked, coldly.
She pouted. "Oh, you're so mean. You should loosen up!"
//Sort of hard when I've got paperwork backed up to the colony, a migraine that would take all the Tylenol in the universe to get rid of for five minutes, a wife that scorches a hole in my wallet and no sex life to speak of--because God is merciful. You be me and try to loosen up.// He waved a dismissing hand and set his glasses on the bridge of his nose, then ran a hand wearily through his tousled hair and went back to his figuring.
He was not only the CEO of Winner Resources and about ten branches of that business, but he was also the accountant (since the prior one had been so dumb as to try and rip him off a few thousand a month). Between paperwork, Dorothy, Katie, Katie's school, bills, meetings, health and safety inspections of all of his buildings and satellites, and tax season's hasty approach, Quatre was swamped. Sure, his personal assistance, Lawrence Phychr, was a great burden-lifter (the boy had started as an intern and ended up proving that he was a secretary/hacker, a file manager, a business negotiator and a damn good coffee maker) but he needed more help. Hell, he needed all the gods that existed to save him from this! So much stress could NOT be healthy!
Dorothy swept from the room with his card in her hands, and Quatre waved bye-bye to any thoughts of ever seeing THAT particular one ever again. The woman was like a paper-shredder--put something useful in her clutches and she'll return it worthless, if she returned it at all. Well, at least she was easy to get rid of. His headaches were bad when she was gone, but if she were actually in LOVE with him and insisting on intimacy, the Winner lord would have to have himself committed to an insane asylum.
He sighed as he stamped his signature onto another document (Lawrence was such a handy kid that he had actually had a stamp made with Quatre's exact signature on it, saving him the trouble of writing it). //That would be good right about now,// he thought. //An insane asylum...with a nice, quiet rubber room and a straight jacket...yes sir, that would be heaven. Silence, no Dorothy, no work to worry about, no Heero giving me fathering speeches...//
/'You remember you said that, not me...that you have no time for your daughter.'/
His mind trailed off and he smacked his head against the desk, knocking his glasses right off and onto the floor. //Damn it...I can't help it...// he thought, tears threatening once more. //I wanna hang out with the guys and my baby, but I can't...I have so much to do that I'm lucky to sleep at night...I just...//
Katie's little voice echoed in his head. /'But YOU have to come too!'/
//I wanted to...// he thought, sadly, //I wanted to be the one to take you there, but I just can't honey...I wish you could understand.// Slowly, Quatre pulled his head from the surface of the expensive redwood desk and looked across it at the stand-up frame with the picture of he and Katie in it at the park, she hanging off his arm with a big grin on her face. As he stared at it, a memory numbed his mind.
[\\"Father, can't you come see?" a young, pale-haired boy had asked the man behind the desk, the man he barely knew. "I can play the piano, don't you want to see?"
"I haven't the time, Quatre. Go show your sister."
"She's busy," the boy murmured, sadly. "Can't you just come see?" Upon receiving no response, he became desperate. It was so rare that his father was home, and he wanted him to just tell him that he was a good child--he wanted him to be proud of him. No one noticed him, but maybe if he could so much as get a real, genuine 'that's nice' everything would be okay. "I can play a minute waltz in thirty seconds! I can play blindfolded, even, and not miss a note! Not one!" No response, and the boy felt tears in his eyes. "Please, just come watch me play!"
"Damn it, Quatre, I have too much to do. Go entertain yourself. God knows, I buy you enough things to keep you occupied." His father looked up from the stack of paperwork, massaging his temples. "I haven't the time now, maybe later."
The young boy sighed and turned to leave, then paused as a recent picture caught his eye. It was of he and his father at the park. He remembered being so happy then, and it was only a year ago. What happened? Why had everything changed? Sadly, he left. //He doesn't have time for me.// the poor child thought as he exited the room. //No one has time for me...// \\]
Quatre stared blankly at the picture of himself and Katie, words ringing through his head painfully.
/'I haven't the time, Quatre.'/
//Oh God...//
/'You remember you said that, not me...that you have no time for your daughter'/
[\\"Dada! Wanna see what I can do? I can play the piano thingy! I do good, too! Come see!"
Not glancing up from his paperwork, Quatre nodded his head. "That's nice, honey, Dada's busy right now."
"But I want you to see!" she whined.
He shook his head. Too much to do, no time to play around. He had work to do. "I haven't the time, Katie."
"Please? Please, Dada! I want you to see what I can do!"
"Show your mother."
"She's busy! I can play songs, even with my eyes closed though it's not that good! Please, come watch me, just for a sec!"
That did it. "Katie!" Quatre said, loudly, silencing his daughter. "I said no. I have too much to do--I haven't the time now, maybe later."\\]
"No..." he whispered, staring at the picture, forlornly. It couldn't be, it was too sickening...
Slowly, he lifted himself from his chair and stumbled from the study, carrying himself awkwardly into the bathroom. He splashed water into his face to wash away the sweat that had broken out across his pale brow, then stared at himself in the mirror, his hair standing out in all directions terribly, his eyes reddened by lack of sleep and endless crying. He was so pale and thin, unhealthy, and he looked awful.
The truth hit him like a semi. "I've become my father."
/'I haven't the time, Quatre.'/
"Heero was right," he whispered to himself, staring at his reflection. "I'm a terrible father...I..." he swallowed, then leered at himself, "I don't deserve Katie..."
His stressed-out, pained condition added to this awful revelation brought his anger to a peek, and with an almost animalistic cry, he hauled back and punched the mirror, destroying the smooth surface. Shards of it caught in his knuckles as he pulled them away, but he hardly noticed as he watched the chunks of glass tumble into the marble sink with an unattractive crashing, almost like church chimes struck much too hard. They crashed and shattered.
Still in a dazed rage, Quatre stumbled from the bathroom, and the next thing he knew, he was on the couch in the living room, the television remote seated in his lap as he worked the pieces of glass from his hand. He was sitting awkwardly, feet up on the expensive coffee table, legs spread, the cape of his robe spread across the sofa beneath him like a cloak, eyes half crossed and a scowl in place as he watched little red rivers trickle from the developing holes in his knuckles. It had been a while since he'd been that angry, but now he was cooling down somewhat. He was just depressed again, now, so he was ready to veg out for a while. What better way to get rid of stress than to kill brain-cells?
It was on the news for some stupid reason, but excluding Teletubbies and Sesame Street, there was nothing else on, so he listened dully to it as he picked shining shards from his fist, springing new leaks heedlessly. "Damn mirror," he murmured, grouchily. "Geez...and it goes cutting my hand like that...cheap piece of shit is just supposed to break, not cut me..."
"In other news," the telecaster was saying. It was Midii Une still. (He felt REALLY sorry for HER--his job sucked, HERS was worse. After all, they both did shitty things, but she only got paid seventeen fifty and hour for it.) She looked just as tired as he felt, and it was almost noon. "Business icon, Quatre Rabarba Winner--"
"Jesus, famous and they always mess up the last name," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
"--Is making quite the nuisance of himself on Wallstreet this afternoon. Winner stock shot up another twenty-seven points today--surprise, surprise-- and needless to say, his enemies at Conquest Enterprises are not happy."
Quatre shook his head. "Walker Conquest and his slutty secretary can kiss my ass," he hissed, "Not like HE works thirty-hour works days to go home to a wife that redecorates his house every month or so as a pretense to spend his money. NO, HE lives on a colony with a harem of women and all his money while other people run his business because he's a dumbass." He paused. "I'm talking to myself again, aren't I? Damn it, I need to get a parrot or something--so I don't sound so unstable. God knows I'm NOT stable, as if a Winner ever COULD be--I'm still doing it. STOP!" He sighed. "And I'm shouting at myself. God, someone kill me."
At that remark, an amazingly fat gray cat came running into the room, screeching terribly as a blonde, curly-haired puppy came bolting in after it. It leapt right into his lap, claws an all.
Quatre winced, then pulled Tabitha off the front of his pajamas, holding her up by the scruff of her neck while placing a bare foot against Fluffy's head to keep him at bay. He looked up at the ceiling, scowling. "Okay, I said kill me, not castrate me. Ha ha, very funny." He looked at the huge mass of fur-covered fat with whiskers, "And what's YOUR problem?"
She yowled as Fluffy made a jump for her.
Quatre suddenly smirked, feeling amazingly cruel suddenly, smirked at the cat, then looked at his daughter's puppy, "You want it, boy?"
Tabitha shut up instantly, but Fluffy was nothing but noise.
He grinned at the evil cat, then hauled back and pitched his dear wife's pet across the room. "Fetch, Fluffy!"
"REEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!"
"ARF ARF ARF ARF!!!" And both were gone.
Chuckling coldly, Quatre leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Oh yeah, reality's a bitch, eh Tabby?" he called after the screaming cat. "Welcome to my life."
Suddenly, Quatre's cruel and entertained state disappeared with a cold convulsion as Midii, who had been reporting for the last few moments nonstop, uttered a name that stopped his heart.
"--Triton Bloom--"
"TROWA?!" he practically shrieked, leaping across the room and grabbing the television. Sure enough, the moment he uttered the name, a picture of a certain familiar Silencer and his redheaded sister appeared on the screen, and all sounds--the yowling and barking, shattering of pricy items of décor, the droning of the tired news anchor--faded into the background. Quatre stared in awe at the form before him. He knew it was Trowa...he would know him anywhere...but he looked so different now.
The boy he had known as a teenager, stoic and silent--the boy he had loved-- had been pale, gaunt and gloomy...but now, now he was a god. His eyes scanned languishingly over seeming miles of toned muscles and golden flesh, slid over the plane of now sun-kissed, golden-copper hair (which there was now much more of), and locked on the deep jade eyes that had haunted his dreams for years. It was really him, but he had changed so drastically...and yet, he knew it was him--those eyes, that face, that awful scowl, all of it was so irrefutably Trowa that it HAD to be him.
Was Midii still talking? What on earth could possibly be more important than Trowa?
"--a very level-headed man' says the president of the CAASA foundation, Blayne Andrews, who, in fact, is the very man in charge of shutting circuses down. 'Mr. Bloom proved us wrong in our beliefs that the Trinity was an animal slave-trade...indeed, his animals are no more slaves than his friends themselves, the workers of the circus, and we of CAASA sincerely extend a thank-you to the man that opened our eyes to the truth.' Coming from Mr. Andrews, one of the greatest naturalists ever to live, this is QUITE an astonishing commendation--"
"Oh Trowa," Quatre whispered, faintly. "You've been busy, ne...?"
Fluffy bolted up behind him, shocking him out of his reverie. "Arf!"
"Huh?" He blinked a few times, then looked down at the puppy, whose mouth was now full of gray fuzz. "Fluffy, did you eat Tabitha?" he asked, weakly.
The dog shook his head, then sneezed, and out came a huge ball of fur.
Quatre winced, then looked up as a half-bald tabby cat came stumbling in. "Ugh. At least she isn't dead."
Fluffy took off after the beaten cat, who was gone in an instant with a scream.
The blonde turned his attention back to the television, frowning as he realized that Midii was talking again and the picture was gone. The shock of seeing Trowa again was wearing off and giving way to a sickening depression that was making him ill, and as he sunk back to the floor, ignoring the chaos reining around him, he closed his eyes, fighting the inevitable tears. That was the one thing that could have made his life worse--Trowa, the man that he had (and still) loved, in perfect health, successful, beautiful and further out of his reach than ever. It was crushing to think. The part of him that was ever the martyr, the one that loved everyone and everything and wished nothing but the best for others, wanted him to be happy for his secret love--after all, if anyone deserved happiness and success in this life, it was Trowa--but the childish bitterness in him, the part that was still throwing a tantrum over losing him, was making him miserable.
//He's happy,// one side said. //He has money, friends, a place to belong and he's probably already found HIS true love, so why pity yourself when HE'S found happiness? What more could you wish for him?//
//SCREW him!// the other side shrieked, angrily. //What about YOU?! All you do is suffer and work and suffer some more, fearing the day when Dorothy asks you to sleep with her, the day when Katie grows up and leaves you with this bitch, and for what? Nothing! Do YOU ever get what you want? NO! YOU should have Trowa all to yourself, idiot! You should have confessed when you had the chance! STUPID! Who CARES if he's happy?! YOU could make him happier, and you wouldn't be miserable if you weren't such a MORON!//
He fisted handfuls of his hair, ignoring the stinging of his bleeding fist as he sat on his knees in front of the television, tears pouring down his cheeks. "DAMN ME!" he shouted, forlornly.
WHY? Why was it ALWAYS HIM that had to suffer? Why couldn't he find happiness? What was WRONG with the world that he could NEVER really escape the evils of it? Would he ALWAYS have to suffer this way? WHY did God HATE him so much?!
He looked up as Midii repeated the name that plagued his mind, staring through the tears at the man he had lost because of his own foolishness, agony gripping his chest. Childishly, he reached up and let his fingers graze the cold glass of the television screen, a sense of mental disorder compelling him to speak as if Trowa could really hear him. Something inside of him seemed to die, and at the exact same moment, something else seemed to bloom like a wildfire, painfully, making him wince as he stared at the form he knew so well from his tortured dreams. "Trowa..." he whispered, despairingly, clutching the front of his shirt with his other hand as the pain flared up again. He smiled, sadly. "I wonder...maybe that's why I hurt so much without you...because you stole my heart, and how can someone live without their heart...?" He sighed, tearfully. "I should have told you...but I'll say it now...I love you, Trowa...I love you..."
~
"Trowa!"
The green-eyed man ignored the calls of his sister as he sat on his knees in full costume, clutching the discarded newspaper clipping in his hands with restrained tears glittering in his eyes. //I can't do this,// he thought. //I can't...//
"Trowa, where ARE you?"
//I can't. I won't, I refuse.//
The curtains parted and Catherine paused in the doorway, peering into the darkness of the storage area. "Triton Bloom, if you are sulking again with five minutes until you're supposed to perform, I swear I will strip you down, paint you pink and kick you out into that ring buck naked, I mean it."
Trowa almost smiled, but the gesture failed and he sighed, softly, tucking the clipping under a crate to hide it and setting his hands on the ground. "I'm here," he said, faintly, "But I'm not sulking...just thinking..."
"Well, that's enough thinking, Trowa," she said, flatly, putting her hands on her hips. "You're supposed to be out there soon and I can't stall much longer. Damn it, these people came to see YOU if anyone, you dork, so stop giving excuses and get UP!"
He shook his head. "Catherine...I don't want to perform."
She gasped. "WHAT?"
"You heard me," he sighed. "I...I can't do it anymore. Send someone else out in my place."
"But there IS no one else, Trowa! You're the top act, everyone wants to see YOU!"
He shook his head again, lowering his eyes as she approached, casting her shadow over him. "I won't."
"You WILL!" she shouted. "You are NOT going to throw another fit and disappoint your fans just because you're having issues!"
"You don't understand," he hissed.
"I DO understand! It's that damn boy again, Quatre Winner, and I swear, if he ruins ONE MORE SHOW for us, I will do something crazy like ASSASSINATE HIM!" She fisted a handful of his hair and pulled him to his feet, then turned him around, pulling him down by his shoulder to her level (being that he had a foot on her at least). "Trowa, you can sulk all you want when we're on the road, but when we are doing shows you have to suck it up and do your part! I feel for you, really I do, but when your depression threatens the show I have to put my foot down!" She looked at her watch, then turned her wrist to show him the time, practically smacking him in the face with it. "Now you have ONE MINUTE and if you don't haul ass I will be getting mean."
He sighed, nodding weakly, then dusted himself off and cracked his knuckles. "Fine."
Catherine looked at her watch, then sighed and put her glittery top-hat back on. "Trowa, you know I love you, little brother, but you have to take responsibility. Be ready."
He watched her walk away, then ran a hand through his bangs and sighed, closing his eyes. //Why me...//
~
Katie continued to bounce in her seat as Catherine Bloom reappeared in the center ring. "This is so neato!" she cried, excitedly.
Heero nodded, smirking over at Duo as his love mussed the girl's feathery hair. "Isn't it?"
"And it's about to get even MORE neato," Duo chuckled, holding up his program. He gestured to the name on the roster following the snake charmer's act and Heero nodded. "A man's gonna walk on a tightrope next."
"Wha's a tightrope?"
Duo pointed to the two main pillars standing one each in the center of the two outer rings, indicating the thin wire stretched between them. "That."
She gasped. "Oh, that's HIGH! What if he falls down?! Will somebody catch him?!"
Heero shook his head, frowning slightly. "No, Katie, he doesn't HAVE anyone to catch him..." She looked up at him, as did Duo--with more meaning in his stare--and he offered them both a weak smile. "But don't worry...he doesn't know how to fall anyway."
Duo nodded, solemnly, and Katie blinked, but didn't say anything. They all turned their attention to the center ring as Catherine Bloom continued to rile the crowd.
"Now, for our grand finale! I'm sure you've all had fun this afternoon, and what else are we for but fun...however, now for your own personal entertainment, we will thrill you like no other. You'll only see it here at the Trinity Traveling Circus--for no other circus in the business can do it like we can."
Catherine beamed, then strode to the center of the ring, sighing dramatically as floaty piano music began to play.
"Before I introduce him, however, I'm going to share a little background of the Trinity with you of the audience. Believe it or not, it was his parents- -and mine, I might add--that first helped to get the hundred-and-twenty- year-old Trinity Circus off the ground back in the old days, almost thirty years ago, and they stared as the headliners for the show: the Flying Blooms! Yes, trapeze and tightrope working have been the backbone of the circus since the beginning, and that's why our current closing act decided to take a cue from Mom and Dad, God rest them." She sighed, dreamily, then laughed over the soft, floaty music. "Well, who thinks I've stalled long enough?"
The crowd cheered and Katie jumped up on the bench, giggling and clapping between her uncles, who smiled in good humor. "Yay! C'mon, I wanna see the man that can walk the rope!"
"Well..." she put a finger to her chin, huffing, "Maybe...huh, maybe he doesn't have to come out yet. I mean, he's been a little blue lately so maybe we should just CANCEL the show!"
A roar of boos filled the tent.
Catherine laughed, then looked off to the side, toward the curtained backstage, as a green spotlight flickered on and turned to point to it. "Oh, THERE he is! Oh?" She smirked and put her hands on her hips. "Looks like SOMEONE'S being bashful! Maybe we SHOULD cancel!"
Even MORE booing.
"Hear that, bro? I think you're in demand!" She frowned again, then turned and lifted her hands. "C'mon, ya wanna see him? Better convince him, people!"
Heero smirked and covered Katie's ears as a deafening explosion of cheers rang out. Duo plugged his ears, laughing.
Catherine beamed again, then looked off-stage with a laugh. "Ready now? Okay!" She cleared her throat and waved to the audience as the lights changed from blue, red and purple to deep green and gold. "I think you did it!"
More fanfare, even louder, and Katie giggled. "I can't hear, but it's funny anyway!"
"Now...in~troducing...MY baby brother...the ONE, the ONLY, Triton Bloom, the Acrobat King of the High Wire!"
As the applause broke out and the shouts, cheers and whistles became overpowering, Duo stepped up onto the bench for a clearer view, taking Katie up into his arms. Sighing, Heero followed suit. After all, it had been a long time since he had seen Trowa, and the Latin youth had been a close friend to him, almost closer than his lover in some respects. He wanted to be able to see him.
The man that stepped into the center ring with Catherine was almost too much to take in with just one glance. He was roughly six-foot three inches, much taller than even Heero, dressed in jade green spandex pants with golden tiger stripes going up the legs and matching straps crossing over his bare, muscular chest in an X like ammunition belts. His skin was tanned, and his copper hair was golden highlighted, worn in a familiar style like a curved-in claw over the right side of his face, but as he strode, bathed in his spotlight, the slightest hint of a ponytail could be spotted swinging between his shoulderblades. His left ear was pierced by a gaudy golden hoop, and over the right side of his thin profile, nearly hidden by his bangs, was half of a clown mask with a big smile that contrasted with the stern expression he wore. It was almost like looking at another person, but it was undeniably the zero-three pilot.
Before Heero could even gasp, Duo exploded. "Holy Christ on fire!" he shrieked. "DAMN, Heero, LOOK at him! Is THAT really TROWA?!"
"It couldn't be anyone else," he said, allowing the slightest hint of a smile to curve his lips. Despite the changes, it was good to see Trowa again. Embarrassing as it was to admit it, he'd missed him.
Katie blinked. "Hey, I seed him on the TV!" she exclaimed. Then, she frowned. "Oh, he still isn't smiling! Somebody should tickle him!"
Heero shot Duo a warning look to keep him from making any comments there, and it worked, but he still received the customary mischievous smirk in return.
Catherine patted his shoulder, and Heero, keen as his eyes were, was able to spot just how rough that pat was, enough to leave a red mark in its wake. Apparently, there was some friction between sister and brother. "Let's here it for the youngest Bloom, everyone!"
The audience cheered and Trowa bowed in a fashion that was typically him, stepping gracefully back with one foot behind the other and bending at the waist, hands positioned strategically in the way of an old-style gentleman. Then, he headed out of the center ring and toward the pillar furthest from the stands.
They both sat down as Catherine left the center ring for the sidelines and Trowa scaled the pole to the tightrope. The music changed from the soft piano music to something a little faster and jazzier, and as he took his place on the platform, slipping his shoes off and cracking his knuckles, Catherine continued to talk from the shadows.
"Remember, ladies and gentlemen, do NOT try this at home. My brother is a trained professional, and you must realize that the stunts he will perform are very carefully practiced over and over again--however, they are no less DANGEROUS, and ONE SLIP could make me an only child, as you'll notice his lack of a net. He absolutely refuses to use one, which is yet another thing that makes him the greatest."
Heero had never been to one of Trowa's shows before, but he had seen him pull a high wire stunt before in a tight spot, and from what he had heard from Duo, he was really good.
Of course, to earn a title like King of the High Wire, he had to be adept at it.
Trowa started his way onto the rope barefoot, and the moment he stepped onto it, the gasps began. Katie watched in awe, practically bouncing in her seat, as he made his way slowly across, looking almost bored. He made a show of it, splaying his arms out to either side and wobbling exaggeratedly as he went, though Heero knew just as well as Trowa himself did that he had done things like this before--in boots, fully dressed, carrying a backpack with his hands in his pockets. This was easy for him, but he was making it look hard for show, and it was working.
"Wow," Katie whispered. "That's soooo neato..."
Trowa continued across until he made it roughly to the center, then stopped faking it and stood upright, folding his arms and pausing a moment to check his fingernails. Half the audience snickered while the other half murmured about how dangerous it was, him being at least thirty-five to forty feet in the air and acting like it was no big thing. Then, he took one foot from the rope, balancing on the other, and bent over, grabbing it with one hand. With one quick movement, he flipped up onto that one hand right in the center of the rope and balanced, splaying his legs out and doing the splits in the air with his other hand fisted against his lower back.
Heero blinked. He WAS good!
Slowly, Trowa brought his legs up until they met, then leaned forward a bit, catching himself on his other hand. Now he was in a handstand on the wire, and the audience was having trouble keeping quiet. He continued across on his hands, balancing expertly and holding his weight up evenly in an almost impossible pose, for about another fourth of the rope, then stopped again and threw himself into the air, soaring so high it looked like he might hit the roof of the tent. He did a triple-axle with a half- twist and landed on his feet about a foot from the end of the rope, balancing perfectly on one foot, arms locked at his sides, other leg drawn up behind the first.
The crowd exploded into loud applause as Trowa stood absolutely still on the tightrope, not having broken a sweat from his exertions of amazing strength and control. It really was him...no one else could possibly be so super-human.
Duo and Heero exchanged glances as the audience gave him a standing ovation, then nodded. Trowa was damn close to them now, only a few feet above and about ten feet away--in the perfect position to see Katie. The braided man took his niece into his arms and stepped up onto the bench, then boosted her onto his right shoulder as Heero took a place next to him, ready to draw attention. As soon as the volume was down to an acceptable level, the soldier set his fingers to his mouth and whistled one long, shrill note...an old signal.
Trowa, being as alert as his friend knew he was, subconsciously recognized the sound and looked right toward it--and the color drained from his face as his single visible eye locked on the blonde girl seated on Duo's shoulder.
~
//Oh no...// the acrobat thought, numbly, stepping back on the tightrope tensely as his eyes scanned the features of the adorable child. //It can't be...she...she CAN'T be...//
But it was unquestionable. His eyes combed the young features, locking for extended amounts of time on the feathery blonde hair, upturned nose and wide, cerulean eyes. He wanted to deny it, he wanted to think it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he knew who this was, and the company she kept reassured him. Duo and Heero were with her, and that made it final.
That was Quatre's daughter, the baby girl he had seen that day at the hospital five years ago...
[\\She was beautiful--just looking at her made him want to smile--and she looked just like her father. She was so small...that much was almost haunting...and yet, it was absolutely undeniable. This was Quatre's daughter...and she was beautiful.
Quatre tried to offer her to him, but he demurred with a muttered, "No," and continued to look at her. He carefully reached out to touch her hand, then blinked as she instantly grabbed his finger, looking up at him strangely.
Something passed between them silently as her father stood there with the nurse, looking on in ignorance.
And then, the baby stuck his finger in her mouth. He almost laughed at the odd sensation and the release of tense pressure in his chest as he peered down at her, entertained by the innocent, infantile action. She was such a sweet baby...
...she was Quatre's baby...and DOROTHY'S...
That shattered the small, glass shard of happiness within him. His eyes darted up to the blonde man's childlike features for just an instant, and he was thankful that Quatre didn't notice, but the ache that exploded inside of him was unbearable. The recurring realization that his little crush had slept with that terrible creature and created a child out of wedlock made him sick, and angry, and it hurt more than anything he had ever endured. He couldn't stand it.
Taking his hand from the baby and, regrettingly, patted Quatre on his shoulder, then turned to go, shuddering as his name slipped softly from the blonde's lips, questioningly.
"Trowa?"
"It was nice seeing you again, Quatre," he lied. Nice? No, it was painful, and the smallest bit of hope he had been harboring was ripped from him as he left the room, drawing his cell phone from his pocket and hitting autodial to call Catherine.
She answered in a heartbeat. "Trowa?"
"Hi, Catherine. Tell the troupe I'll be back shortly."
Pity dripped from her voice as she spoke, "I...I thought you'd be there longer..."
As he passed the window, looking tentatively at father and daughter from the outside and feeling more outcast than ever, he answered instantly, anger and pain in his words as he left the Winner heir and his heart behind. "Yeah, well you thought wrong."\\]
The world suddenly tilted then, and Trowa realized with a gasp that he had slipped off the tightrope, but with a quick, jerky motion, he caught it with one hand, barely managing to save himself before plummeting to his doom. With a gasping pant, he sighed, shuddering. //Holy God...//
~
"Did he fall?!" Katie exclaimed, hoping to see over the panicking crowd by squirming.
Heero quickly took her down and sat her on the bench, sighing with relief. "No, he's okay." //That was close...//
"Jesus Christ, he almost fell..." Duo hissed to him. "Did YOU think he'd react like that?"
He didn't answer out of shame and his koibito's eyes narrowed on him, harshly. After a moment, he looked up at Trowa, who was still hanging from the rope by one hand. "I had a feeling...but at least Part A is complete."
"Part wha?" Katie asked.
Duo shushed her, then the two of them looked up as the audience suddenly calmed down.
Heero blinked, then sighed. Unsurprisingly, Trowa was making the fall look like part of the act, hanging there with a smirk on his face while checking his wristwatch on his free hand. He watched as the acrobat flipped himself dangerously back onto the rope. He paused a moment, back to the crowd, then, slowly...looked back over his shoulder...and leered, right at Duo and Heero, his visible eye so narrow that it almost looked like a slit. Then, with a glorious fake smile, he stunned the entire crowd with a show of cartwheels and flips performed while running on the wire in the other direction, heading back to the other platform.
"He's gonna kill us," Duo murmured, smirking darkly.
"Most likely."
"Well..." Duo's face broke into an evil grin, "All's fair in fated love and social war, eh, koi?"
Heero smirked, slightly, then nodded. "Affirmative."
"Heh heh, hey, Katiekins," Duo patted the girl on her head, "You wanna MEET that guy?"
She blinked. "Um...I dunno," she sighed, looking down, "He looked at me and fell off...maybe I scareded him."
Duo looked over her at Heero, who nodded, and the braided boy smirked. "I think WE scared him, babydoll."
"Okay then!"
The two evil uncles quickly scooped their niece up and made their way from the stands as Catherine Bloom began making a cover for her brother's near- fatal accident and began closing the show. Without pause, the trio exited the tent to go find Trowa.
~
//I can NOT believe this,// Trowa thought, tensely, as he planted himself on an unopened crate, surrounded by half the performers, all of whom were still in costume.
"Vat ish going on? Vat is wrong with Tarowa?" Archibald looked down at Cassíme, who was wiping the intricate animal makeup from his face with a cloth.
The fire-eater continued his task, scoffing. "He fell off the rope--first time ever, too. He looked ready to piss himself."
Precious, Isabella's snake, snapped at the little Arabian threateningly, silencing him, then coiled himself back around her shoulders as she cooed over the shaken Latin acrobat.
"Are you going to be okay, Trowa?" she whispered, "That was pretty close up there...but you covered it well..."
"I'm fine," he lied. No, he wasn't fine. He was FAR from fine, after seeing the child of the one person he had been thinking about all day. It was almost sickeningly coincidental--and he didn't like it.
In no time, Catherine came in, looking worried. The others all moved to allow his sister passage, and the moment she was within range, she grabbed him by his bare shoulders, giving him a hard shake. "Trowa, what happened?! Are you all right? You aren't HURT are you?"
He stared up at her, glazed eyes scarcely able to take her in, but before she could go into a hysterical 'call the hospital' fit, he snapped out of it. "No, I'm okay...my hand hurts a little, but I should be fine..."
She stared at him, hard, gripping his shoulders with such force that it hurt. With a dark look, she sent the others scattering, then turned on him. "You just froze up there! What HAPPENED?! You could have DIED, damn it, why did you DO that?!"
"I..." He couldn't fathom what to say, so he said nothing at all, allowing his voice to trail off and leave him. What COULD he say? "I saw a little girl and she looked just like Quatre, so I stared at her and fell off, I'm sorry"? Not a chance! She'd ream him a new one! He shook his head, looking down at the horizontal rope-burn in his palm made by his catching the wire barehanded. //God, could it GET any worse?//
Suddenly, a beam of sunlight broke through the dimness of the backstage tent, and as Trowa looked up, his heart stopped. There, standing in the entryway with the curtains pulled back and clutched in either hand, was Duo, and standing with him were Heero...and Quatre's daughter.
//It just got worse.//
Catherine looked up. "Excuse me, but it's against policies for audience members to--" she trailed off, then, as she recognized the two adults. "...Duo Maxwell? And Heero Yuy?" She looked down at him, "Trowa, look who-- "
But he wasn't paying attention to her anymore. He was staring at the girl, and she was staring back, her little hands behind her back. She was dressed cutely in a fuzzy purple cargo vest, tan stretch-pants and a giant pink sweater that hung down to her mid-thighs, and she was bouncing on the heels of her dress-shoes excitedly. Just looking at her made him think of Quatre, the boy with the old-style fashion sense that had loved to dress similarly. The moment his eyes met hers, she beamed, gripping Heero's huge hand in her own little one and only managing to fist his index and middle fingers in her grip. He was absolutely stunned.
"Hey, Tro!" Duo said, energetically, snapping him from his reverie. He looked at the braided man, noting that he hadn't changed, short of getting taller, and read through the seemingly harmless, friendly expression he wore, seeing right to the evil behind it. The moment his eyes hit him, he realized that the hyper zero-two pilot had SOMETHING running through his crooked mind. "Long time no see, buddy!"
"Too long," Heero added. HE had changed. He was much taller, almost tall enough to rival the acrobat king himself, and running up and down his exposed, tan biceps and forearms in amazingly detained designs were artistic tribal tattoos, all in black like distorted iron spikes. One on his right shoulder was woven to form a black skull with fangs and another twined into a twisted rose shape. His build was even more impressive than before, and he looked rougher, but in the same sense, there was something much more free in his eyes, much more gentle and happy, accepting of his fate. He had finally dropped his emotionless façade. "Hi Trowa."
Catherine beamed. "HI guys!" she exclaimed. "Wow, great to see you two again!"
Duo grinned. "You too, Cathy. Just as beautiful as ever."
"From a gay man, that isn't a compliment."
"BISEXUAL, thank you very much," Duo retorted. Heero pinned him with a bitter look, then, and he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Well, marginally. Still, you look good. So do you, Tro." He suddenly beamed, and that underlying evil shone through again.
Catherine didn't see it (she wasn't trained to), but she DID see the blonde girl standing between the two ex-pilots. She knelt down. "OH, and who's THIS? Did you two adopt?"
"Oh no," Heero said, shaking his head. "We're babysitting for...a friend."
Trowa felt his inborn sixth sense for danger go off, but it was danger of a sort that he wasn't accustomed to--the kind that DIDN'T attack the body. //Why do I have the feeling...//
"Oh?" Catherine smiled, taking the girl's hand. "What's your name, sweetie?"
The girl beamed, beautifully, and once again he remembered her father--and it hurt. "I'm Katherine Iria Winner, but YOU can call me Katie!" she exclaimed.
His sister blinked. "Katherine? WINNER?" She looked back at Trowa, who mentally winced at the penetrating stare she gave him. Something in her eyes just screamed of the thoughts of hope for him running through her mind, though all were in vain. She turned back to the child, smiling. "That's sort of cool," she said, slowly, "MY name's Catherine too."
"I know!" the child cried, giggling. "I sawed you on the news! I is SO glad to meet ya!"
"That's 'I am,' not 'I is,' " Heero murmured.
Katie giggled. "Oopsies."
Catherine snickered herself, then looked back at Trowa, who was wishing at that moment to be ANYWHERE but HERE. "Oh, so you heard of us, eh? Maybe you should meet my brother, TROWA."
He winced, visibly this time, then stood up and cleared his throat, pinning Duo with a look of distrust before looking weakly at the child, who stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes that made his heart ache with the memory of who she had earned them from. She looked nothing like her mother--not even a slight resemblance was discernible (thank God).
She beamed up at him as Catherine moved aside, giving him a nudge with her elbow before fading into the background. The girl offered him a tiny hand, grinning happily and giggling. "Hi, I'm Katie!"
Slowly, he knelt down on the ground, then accepted her little hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. The moment his hand hit hers, a familiar feeling sparked within him...a very familiar feeling...and softly, he smiled, lowering his eyes. "Hello...Katie...I'm Trowa."
She paused a moment, giving him an almost confused pout, then tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, her bangs shifting to completely reveal her wide eyes and her ponytail swishing into sight with a pale, golden shimmer. She didn't say anything.
Trowa blinked, then glanced at Duo and Heero, who shared his expression. What was she going?
"Katie?" Heero said, carefully, "What's the matter?"
Then, without warning, she pulled her hand from his and snatched it by his index finger and pinkie. She tugged his arm until his hand fell into the narrow beam of sunlight, filtering in through the open doorway, then examined it. "Hmm..." she cooed, blinking, childish concentration written on her cute little face as she narrowed her eyes on it.
Trowa blinked again. //What is she...?//
But his thought was never finished, because suddenly, a giant grin split her face and her eyes flew open wide. "I know you!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down. "I remember you!"
He blinked. "Excuse me?"
Then, the next thing he knew, she was in his arms, clinging to him and giggling angelically with her uncles and his sister staring on in surprise. "You were there when I was a baby! I remember your hand, and--" she stopped, then reached up with both hands and removed his clown-mask, staring right into his eyes. She grinned, then dropped it and clung to him again. "I remember YOU!"
"How cute!" Catherine cooed.
He blinked, then blinked again, trying to decipher what she had said, and slowly, he lifted his right hand, looking at it. //She remembers my hand?//
She drew away from him a moment, taking his hand, then pressed a gentle kiss to his index finger with a smile and clung to him again.
[\\He carefully reached out to touch her hand, then blinked as she instantly grabbed his finger, looking up at him...and then, the baby stuck his finger in her mouth.\\]
Could she possibly...remember that far back? Was it humanly POSSIBLE for a child to recall moments in infancy, especially those so amazingly early in life? Apparently so! He wouldn't be one to know, having lost his memories of infancy days after birth, but it certainly seemed that she really did know him...
"Twowa..." she whispered, smiling against his neck. He gulped, confused, then gasped as she spoke again, whispering audibly to him. "Are you my other daddy?"
Catherine gasped, Duo choked and Heero's mouth fell open, and Trowa felt his heart stop right in his chest at the innocent question. Did she just ask him--?! No! He was hearing things! He looked at the others one at a time, begging silently for some kind of reassurance that he was hallucinating, but not one of them could offer it to him. They had all heard it, and Katie had said it. She had...really asked if he was her OTHER father...as if someone had told her she had another besides Quatre...
He swallowed, hard, then carefully took her from his shoulder and forced himself to speak, his voice much more steady than his expression and his hands. "Katie...you can only have ONE father..."
She pouted, shaking her head. "But I didn't SAY father, I said DADDY-- there's a difference, you know!" She giggled at his bewildered expression, then reached out and cupped his cheek with her little hand, tenderly. "I KNOW who my father is--he's my Dada, Katwa--but a DADDY is different. He's my Daddy too, but I remember you from when I was really li'l. Maybe that means you're my other daddy!" She paused again, frowning. "You look scareded, did I scareded you?"
He shook his head, weakly, and gently placed his hand over hers, smiling sadly as that odd feeling once again clutched his heart. He didn't know why, but somehow, he couldn't be afraid of her anymore...he couldn't think of her as the result of his worst nightmare. She was a little angel...and he couldn't bear to think of it any other way. So precious, so pure...so loving. "There's...only one ed on scared..." he said, softly, "And it's...it's 'did I scare you.' "
"Oh...oopsies. Did I scare you?"
"No...no, you didn't, Katie."
Heero gave him a penetrating look that almost made him think the soldier was PROUD of him, but he brushed it off and turned his attention to the little girl in his hands, and he noticed with a frown that she was pouting.
Suddenly, her hand came up and the back of it rubbed across his left eye, surprising him. "You shouldn't cry," she said, softly.
He blinked, then sighed as he realized that he HAD started crying, but not out of any sadness or pain...but more out of confusion...and maybe even a little bit out of happiness. "Why?"
She wiped his other eye with the sleeve of her pink sweater, then kissed his forehead, smiling. "B'cuz nobody as pretty as you should haf'ta cry."
He smiled, weakly, then gently touched her cheek with his quivering fingers. She beamed and nuzzled his hand in return. "Katie..."
"Katiekins," Duo said, suddenly, "We have to go soon."
She frowned at him, and he frowned back, saddened by the unbecoming expression. "Aww...okies." She looked back at the braided man and his soldier, both of whom were standing in the doorway with almost pitying looks on their faces. "Can we come back?"
"Tonight," Heero said. "If you can stay awake long enough, we'll bring you back for the next show tonight."
She nodded, then turned back to Trowa and kissed his forehead again, tenderly. Then, she smiled at him, not beaming this time but just smiling, and his heart ached as he remembered her sire once more. "Twowa, will you be here?"
He nodded, weakly.
"Okay then..." she suddenly tilted her head again, "Twowa?"
"Huh?"
"Can I call you Papa?"
Duo and Heero both smirked from the entrance to the tent and Catherine cooed, softly, covering her mouth. All was silent from then on.
Numbly, the Latin acrobat nodded his head, then sighed as she kissed his cheek again and skipped back to her uncles. He watched as she disappeared from his sight with Duo, then looked up at Heero, who remained in the entrance, looking down at him, expressionless. They stared at each other that way for what felt like forever, a thousand little eternities.
Suddenly, the perfect soldier smiled, then flicked a stray lock of chocolate hair from his face and looked away, bowing his head. "You know," he said, smoothly, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and retrieving a pair of sunglasses, "She calls Quatre Dada...so I hope you feel special, Trowa."
He didn't say anything, nor even move so much as an eyelash in reaction, though inside, everything was doing cartwheels.
Heero sighed, nodding, then put on the shades with a smile. "See you tonight, I guess." He bowed his head to Catherine. "Nice seeing you again." Then, he turned away and headed off after the retreating backs of Katie and Duo, and the curtain he held open swung closed, locking the Bloom siblings in the dim darkness again.
Thoughtlessly, Trowa scrambled almost blindly in the dim light to the curtain and pulled it open to watch them go, still experiencing a jumble of emotions ranging from confusion to sadness, with even a bit of dull joy mixed in. He sat on his knees in the entrance, tent curtain in hand, then smiled as Katie looked back and waved to him.
Catherine quickly knelt behind him, taking his shoulders supportively. "I wonder," she whispered, "If that little girl is the doctor that can help you reclaim that lost leg of yours, Trowa."
He almost retorted, but paused in mid-thought and smiled very weakly, staring off after the sweet little girl that reminded him so of his lost love. Maybe...just maybe...his sister was right.
Maybe.
****
To Be Continued
Xandra: Review, people, and thanx for reading!