Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
Right before he entered the actual arena, Chance quickly sent a text message - They're not selling any popcorn!
The reply came while he was sitting down, quietly apologizing left and right for being so late.
Very funny, Dad.
Chance seriously knew zilch about figure skating. He could vaguely name the positions of the players in ice-hockey and two or three major teams, but figure skating? Completely unknown territory to him. And, to be honest, one he didn't wish to explore any further than he absolutely had to. He knew through Ash how physically demanding a sport it was and how much it required balance, both regarding body control and mind wise. But still it took place on an ice-covered surface and that pretty much disqualified it for him.
Good Luck, he texted his son.
When Ash didn't reply, Chance knew he was busy getting ready and settled back into his seat. Thanks to his lateness only two more pairs to go and then it would be Ash's and Christina's turn. They'd also be the final pair of the competition. Chance wondered if Ash knew that his former team had just suffered a devastating loss in the ice-hockey finals.
Behind the boards on the other side of the ice he could make out Ms Matsumoto and Andrew, the boy Ash had hurt so badly. At least he wasn't on crutches anymore. Further up the ranks he was pretty sure he could see Helen, dressed completely in black and gray, as usual.
The next to last pair finished its performance ill-fatedly but spectacularly with a sudden fall, both boy and girl crashed to the ground rather unceremoniously near the end of a complicated looking lift. Miraculously no one got hurt, but it set a strange atmosphere for Ash's and Christina's performance.
Chance knew the two had opted for a Phantom of the Opera theme, but this was the first time he actually saw them in their costumes - Christina in a fluttery white something, embroidered with pearls, Ash in a tuxedo, face half covered by a white mask. When the music started to play, however, Chance recognized the instrumental version of an old Crowded House song - Four Seasons in One Day. Jeez, what had made them choose that song, of all options?
As Ash went down in a low pivot position, holding Christina by the arm while she was skating in a circle around him, on a deep edge with her body close to the ice, Chance couldn't help but add the lyrics to the song. His body was bruised and beaten and in general the events of the night were now coming back to him, invading his thoughts. Maybe that was why one line kept repeating over and over in his head - blood dries up/like rain, like rain/fills my cup... The horror of Michele's screams, all the water rushing in, the men they had mown down so uncaringly with their shotguns... they had screamed, too.
So many years after saying good-bye to the assassin business blood still filled his cup.
The music changed to a more recent song, Milow's You don't know, and again the lyrics wouldn't leave Chance alone - You don't know, you don't know anything about me... Both him and Philippa preferred to ignore the problem, but one day Ash would see through their web of lies, he'd start asking questions and sooner or later would demand the truth. What would they do then? Tell him?
On the ice Ash lifted Christina up and carried her for a few moments like a waiter would have carried a silver tray. She spread her arms like a bird. Chance recognized the move Ash had practiced with Isu. When Ash put Christina back down again, the music became stronger, somewhat more massive. The Phantom of the Opera.
Although he had known before that they would use this theme, the music now sent shivers down his spine. Years ago a girl had dragged Chance into the musical version of the Phantom of the Opera. He had slept through half of it, but he vividly remembered the moment when Christine finally removed the Phantom's mask. She was shocked, completely, totally shocked by his real face, and in the original version she fled from him. The musical version watered that down to Christine leaving the Phantom after having moved it with her pity, but still…
To Chance The Phantom of the Opera boiled down to a monster underneath a mask, too repellent to be loved.
The music was becoming more dominated by drums, indicating that the performance's climax was nigh. In the darkness of the stands Chance watched his child with a wildly beating heart.
What if Ash hated him, once he'd know the truth?
… … …
Ash's heart was beating wildly, too. This morning he had woken with slight pain in his shoulder. After treating it with a mixture of herbs and potter's earth just like he had learned from Guerrero, it had stopped, but during warm-up it had suddenly returned, sharper than before, and by now white hot jolts were shooting through his whole arm. So far he had managed to stick it out, but the swan lift had been too much. His arm felt half-way numb, how in the world was he supposed to throw Christina?
A wave of anger washed over Ash – this just couldn't be! He had worked his ass off for this competition and so far their performance had been flawless. They could win this thing! It just wasn't fair that Darren and Simon should succeed after all! And what about Christina? She'd KILL him if he failed right now! Not to mention Helen and Ms. Matsumoto. Andrew… Goddamn it, all this work, for nothing? What would his Dad say?
His dad…
Don't be afraid of breaking up a lift if you don't feel comfortable with it. She's giving you her body, it's your responsibility to take care of it.
His dad's words… back when they had taught him how to lift someone…
Should he really give up just like that? The image of Darren and Simon triumphing caused a new influx of adrenalin to rush through his veins. Suddenly the arm didn't feel that bad anymore. But would it be enough to throw Christina up and catch her safely again? He could easily imagine her tirade, should he back out at the last minute… And his former buddies would brag with this from now till Judgment Day.
… it's your responsibility…
"No throw lift", he ordered in a voice he hoped would make clear this was not up for debate. "Catchfoot, arabesque and over."
This was the ending they had originally planned, before Christina and Ms. Matsumoto had come up with the idea of the throw lift. It matched with the music and Christina, although taken by surprise, managed to adjust just in time. They were maybe a tiny bit behind the beat, but it was miniscule.
"Bastard", Christina hissed at him as they stood still after the music's last chord.
And predictably, that was only the beginning.
They ended up with the second best scoring, but neither Christina nor Ms. Matsumoto stopped snarling at him long enough to really notice. For the prize giving ceremony they put up smiling faces, but afterwards they picked up from where they had been interrupted. Thank God the boys had a different locker than the girls. Feeling like a coward already anyway, he took his time to change.
When he finally dared showing his face again, his father was waiting for him in the lobby.
"Hey…", he said.
"Hey…", Ash replied, walking towards him, shoulders slumped.
Both didn't really know what else to say.
Just then a familiar voice called out to them: "In my opinion you've done great!"
Father and son wheeled around.
"Mom!", Ash yelled.
"Guerrero managed to hack into the arena's security feed; he set up a connection to my cell phone. I watched you in the cab."
Dropping his bag and all attempts at coolness, Ash dashed towards Philippa and hugged her tightly.
"Long day, hm?", she said, stroking his hair.
"Food at the warehouse?", Chance suggested and Ash silently nodded, his face still buried in Philippa's coat.
Wrapping his arms around both of them, Chance led them outside to his car.