Chapter 3: A New Plaything
Trowa slept later than he thought he would, and was awakened by Catherine
loudly rapping on his door.
"Trowa!" she called impatiently, "Your door is locked! Tara and I need to get into the costume compartment." Trowa groaned and lifted himself from bed; he dressed quickly and opened the door.
"Sorry." He murmured sleepily.
"I was worried you had died," Catherine teased, "thanks for getting up though." Trowa shrugged and headed back to his apartment where he immediately started the shower. Tara and Catherine started rummaging through trunks for cloth and trimmings so that they could start working on a costume for her act. Tara could not help but notice, as she was in the back part of the costume compartment, that there was a heavy atmosphere that came from Trowa's living space. The two of them settled on a scheme of blue with black trimmings, and they left the trailer. Tara looked to be deep in thought.
"You alright, Tara?" Catherine asked.
"Does Trowa have a girlfriend?" Tara asked, the curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
"I don't know if you can call her that," Catherine replied shakily, "but there is somebody, I don't even know who she is. How did you know?"
"Just a guess." Tara smiled as they went back into their trailer. Catherine shrugged, and then pulled out her measuring tape and a notepad.
"We may as well get working on this now," Catherine smiled, "so go ahead and strip down so I can get your measurements." Tara shrugged, and then stripped down to her bra and underwear. Catherine began taking all of her necessary measurements. Trowa, meanwhile, headed toward their trailer, hoping to ask about what ideas they had about Tara's costume. He opened the door and stepped inside, not thinking to knock first.
"So how are the designs go.ing." he caught sight of the half nude woman and froze for a moment.
"Trowa!" Catherine leapt to her feet and shielded Tara, "You should really knock first! Come back later, please!" Tara had not made a move to cover herself, she just watched Trowa over Catherine's shoulder with interest. After Catherine's scolding, Trowa turned to leave.
"F-Forgive my intrusion, ladies." As the door shut, Catherine locked it.
"Sorry about that," she said, embarrassed, "it was my fault for not locking it."
"That's alright," Tara replied unfazed, "it was not a problem." The two of them created a design and a pattern for the costume, and then cut out the fabric needed.
"Will white toe shoes do, or should I get blue?" Tara asked as they put their work away for the day.
"I think a dark blue would look best," Catherine answered as she looked up the address of a local shoe store, "This place should sell them, have Trowa give you a ride down there."
Trowa could not take his mind of what he saw earlier that day. Tara's cool demeanor was a little too relaxed for just being barged in upon. The way she had looked at him was a look of confidence, like a parrot behind the pars of a strong cage while the cat was staring in. She held herself so high, when to anyone else, it seemed like she had few things to be proud over. Yet there she stood, staring at him with a seemingly silent knowledge that she had just captured a new toy. He tried thinking of Relena, but for the first hour after the incident, every thought went back to Tara.
"Trowa," Tara's voice chimed gently into his thoughts, "may I ask you a favor?" Trowa spun around, bewildered.
"Uh. umm, yes, sure." He shivered suddenly.
"I need a lift to town," she told him, "I just need to get a new pair of slippers for the show."
"Of course." He gave a weak smile and led her to his truck. They traveled in silence for sometime before Tara broke it.
"You don't have to fret about what happened earlier," she stated in her usual, flat tone, which somehow held a warmer feeling than any other time before.
"I am sincerely sorry for that though." Trowa sighed. Tara laughed a little.
"Dancers are people who either hate or are very comfortable with their bodies," she smiled, "and I happen to be comfortable with mine. I did not even flinch when you came in, I am comfortable almost all the time that way." Trowa apologized again, but he saw that same confidence in her eyes. He felt haunted for the rest of the night, until Relena was lying in his bed once more.
"Trowa!" she called impatiently, "Your door is locked! Tara and I need to get into the costume compartment." Trowa groaned and lifted himself from bed; he dressed quickly and opened the door.
"Sorry." He murmured sleepily.
"I was worried you had died," Catherine teased, "thanks for getting up though." Trowa shrugged and headed back to his apartment where he immediately started the shower. Tara and Catherine started rummaging through trunks for cloth and trimmings so that they could start working on a costume for her act. Tara could not help but notice, as she was in the back part of the costume compartment, that there was a heavy atmosphere that came from Trowa's living space. The two of them settled on a scheme of blue with black trimmings, and they left the trailer. Tara looked to be deep in thought.
"You alright, Tara?" Catherine asked.
"Does Trowa have a girlfriend?" Tara asked, the curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
"I don't know if you can call her that," Catherine replied shakily, "but there is somebody, I don't even know who she is. How did you know?"
"Just a guess." Tara smiled as they went back into their trailer. Catherine shrugged, and then pulled out her measuring tape and a notepad.
"We may as well get working on this now," Catherine smiled, "so go ahead and strip down so I can get your measurements." Tara shrugged, and then stripped down to her bra and underwear. Catherine began taking all of her necessary measurements. Trowa, meanwhile, headed toward their trailer, hoping to ask about what ideas they had about Tara's costume. He opened the door and stepped inside, not thinking to knock first.
"So how are the designs go.ing." he caught sight of the half nude woman and froze for a moment.
"Trowa!" Catherine leapt to her feet and shielded Tara, "You should really knock first! Come back later, please!" Tara had not made a move to cover herself, she just watched Trowa over Catherine's shoulder with interest. After Catherine's scolding, Trowa turned to leave.
"F-Forgive my intrusion, ladies." As the door shut, Catherine locked it.
"Sorry about that," she said, embarrassed, "it was my fault for not locking it."
"That's alright," Tara replied unfazed, "it was not a problem." The two of them created a design and a pattern for the costume, and then cut out the fabric needed.
"Will white toe shoes do, or should I get blue?" Tara asked as they put their work away for the day.
"I think a dark blue would look best," Catherine answered as she looked up the address of a local shoe store, "This place should sell them, have Trowa give you a ride down there."
Trowa could not take his mind of what he saw earlier that day. Tara's cool demeanor was a little too relaxed for just being barged in upon. The way she had looked at him was a look of confidence, like a parrot behind the pars of a strong cage while the cat was staring in. She held herself so high, when to anyone else, it seemed like she had few things to be proud over. Yet there she stood, staring at him with a seemingly silent knowledge that she had just captured a new toy. He tried thinking of Relena, but for the first hour after the incident, every thought went back to Tara.
"Trowa," Tara's voice chimed gently into his thoughts, "may I ask you a favor?" Trowa spun around, bewildered.
"Uh. umm, yes, sure." He shivered suddenly.
"I need a lift to town," she told him, "I just need to get a new pair of slippers for the show."
"Of course." He gave a weak smile and led her to his truck. They traveled in silence for sometime before Tara broke it.
"You don't have to fret about what happened earlier," she stated in her usual, flat tone, which somehow held a warmer feeling than any other time before.
"I am sincerely sorry for that though." Trowa sighed. Tara laughed a little.
"Dancers are people who either hate or are very comfortable with their bodies," she smiled, "and I happen to be comfortable with mine. I did not even flinch when you came in, I am comfortable almost all the time that way." Trowa apologized again, but he saw that same confidence in her eyes. He felt haunted for the rest of the night, until Relena was lying in his bed once more.