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"Keep In Time"Written By: Dentelle_noir Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing AC or the
characters. They belong to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. This
is a work of fiction and written for fun, not profit Rating: R Warnings: AU, sap, angst, fluff Pairings: 3x4. Summary: A suspicious accident leaves Trowa without
a skating partner, sentencing him to a year without competition. Quatre
is an injured dancer, trying to find a way to live without his joy.
Together, they make new rules and find a new path. "Keep In Time" Chapter 17 “Are you high?” Trowa blinked his eyes open, peering at the semi-familiar voice asking him that question. He felt like hell. His body ached… and his foot had somehow wedged itself into the couch arm and was currently stuck. Wonderful. He wiggled it to get it out, but his arm was protesting the movement for some reason. Where the hell was he and how the hell did he wind up like this? “Seriously, Trowa. I know you aren’t competing this season, but they take hair samples! They’ll know if you were on drugs, like, years later! What are you doing to yourself? You look like hell!” Trowa focused his eyes to the voice, surprised to see July leaned over top of him, looking over him with distaste. She grabbed his knee and tugged, dislodging his foot from the couch’s grasp and putting it down on the floor. Trowa slowly sat up, groaning in pain as his body protested sleeping for so little time on such a crappy bed. He was in the practice room atop Petra’s rink… he remembered Dimitri sitting with him, and eating the ice cream. But… “Why are you here, July?” She smiled, shaking her head and rolling her eyes patronizingly. He glared, but she just made a little ‘tisk’ sound, ignoring his annoyance, and pushed her fingers through his hair, working to make the mess look semi-presentable. “You aren’t the only skater in the world, Trowa. And certainly not the only one at this rink. My practice just ended, I was getting some juice when I saw you in here. You’re a mess, Trowa.” He didn’t really want to, but he couldn’t help practically melted under the touch, letting her finger-comb his hair for him as he woke up little by little. He had to admit that, as much as he disliked having to skate with her, that she had never been terrible to him. And he didn’t have to deal with skating with her anymore, so what was the harm in letting her stay there? He was too tired to fight, anyway, and just blinked as she went on practically petting him as he sat there, and he enjoyed it thoroughly. She liked to talk, though, so, on she went, “And I have no idea why you’re here, of all places! Don’t you have a bed? And I thought Dimitri cut your practice off really early for some birthday party? My class got to have an extra practice with Dimitri last night while you were there. I liked the extra rink time, you know? But a party is all well and good, but getting stoned is NOT a good idea! What if you have to be drug tested?” “I’m not on drugs,” Trowa grunted, his voice still scratchy from sleep, and crying last night, “I came here late… I was upset.” “Why would you come here?” July asked. She looked at him, shaking her head, then pulled over her skating bag and rummaged inside it. She pulled out a comb and a suspicious tube that looked like lipstick, except it was flesh coloured… “Skating helps me think.” Trowa said, watching as she attacked his hair with the comb, making quick work of the mess, then she was uncapping the tube. Trowa leaned away, worried about what she was planning with THAT thing! “Hey! Stop it! Wait… why are you talking to me? I thought you hated me…” July stopped, frowning, “…where’d you get that idea? I know we didn’t do well as skating partners, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still your friend.” “…You’re my friend? I thought you were Quatre’s friend.” “Yes, I’m Quatre’s friend, too. I can have more than one, you know,” she said with a laugh. “You’re loopy in the morning, Trowa. I kinda like you this way. Not so surly. You’re a real pain in the ass when I have to skate with you, but you’re not too bad as just a fellow skater.” Trowa frowned (although it looked a bit more like a pout with his hazy eyes). “I’m not talking to Quatre anymore.” July’s jaw dropped, and she dropped the concealer stick in shock. “What?” “He’s a spy. His cousin? It’s Heero Yuy. He’s one of team Lowe. He’s probably been feeding them my secrets for weeks. Or he was planted here to sabotage me. Or the rink. Or something. He was just toying with me.” Trowa ’s voice was deadpanned, his eyes staring at the wall, talking as if it had happened to someone else. To be honest, he didn’t want to be talking about this at all… “Oh Trowa…” July moved onto the couch and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, snuggling him. Trowa couldn’t stand up to that, and he slumped against her arms. July rubbed his arm comfortingly, “Now… are you sure? I mean… I’ve known Quatre for years, and he’s just not really the spying type…” “His cousin is Heero. Yuy.” Trowa said again, stressed and upset.“I’m sure about that!” “But that doesn’t mean he’s spying on you…” July responded, patting his shoulder a little. She was finding that she didn’t mind so much. She liked Trowa so much more when she didn’t have to skate with him as her partner. “It’s not his fault, I guess, but… Heero Yuy! He was born in ‘camp Lowe’! How can I trust someone around the enemy so much?” July took a minute to think out how exactly to say this. She pulled away from Trowa, and grabbed his face in her hand, turning him to look straight at her. He blinked. She used his moment of trust to spring the concealer stick on him, holding him there as she put it on the bags under his eyes, tutting as she did, “You really look like a mess! Sit still and let me blend it!” she growled, using her thumb to hide the dark circles under his eyes as he glared at her. She paused for a moment, as if chewing over her next words, and then spoke up again in a quiet, but firm voice, “I trust lots of people who are in ‘camp Lowe’ you know!” Trowa glared harder, pulling back from her hands. She glared right back at him, as if he was the one being stubborn. After a minute, she put the concealer stick back into her skating bag and stood, motioning Trowa to follow her towards the large window on the wall. From there, he could see the rink. There were three skaters on the ice, warming up. “See, Trowa,you’re so used to being the big star around here. Team Barton is our rink’s champion. You get all the perks. I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have to share ice time,” she said, pointing to the three down below who were working with their coaches away from each other. “Or have lunch, share practice time, share your COACHES even, with your biggest competitors. Do you think that Petra makes any money training only ONE skater? God no.” Trowa watched the skaters below, and began to chew on his thumb nail as he let that idea sit in his brain a little. But July wasn’t done. “What about me in stretch class, too? You didn’t recognize all those girls, did you? No. Some are ballet dancers. Some are Lowe Skaters. We’re all one class, though. Any one of them could overhear me talking about my training. And they might not even be doing it up purpose, but knowing what I can or can’t do will affect how they train. It’s not done maliciously. Did Quatre hate ME because I asked him what kind of music you liked? You know that helped me land you as a partner.” Trowa nodded slowly, leaning against the glass and looking at July critically. “You did. You picked his brain. You cheated.” July’s brows rose. “I BEG your pardon! I used the resources at my disposal to do something extra. I still out-skated the other girls! I showed you that I had the drive to go the extra mile and work WITH my partner’s tastes. The music didn’t do the skating FOR me, Trowa. I just went the extra mile to get noticed! You can’t blame me! You had a line up a mile long just to get ice time with you!” “…but you had an unfair advantage…” “If I was searching for a job, and I knew someone who worked there. And that person told me ‘don’t wear red to the interview’ would it be cheating not to wear red? Or would it be common sense?” “…But the other people didn’t know that.” “Trowa. Everyone with half a brain and a pair of ears knows you prefer to skate to rock.” July said with a roll of her eyes, “My class used to skate after you and Cathy loads of times. You always did your cool downs to rock music. It wasn’t a far reach. Or am I a spy, because I noticed that?” “Well… I don’t know. Are you?” “Am I?” July asked him back, not letting him get away with easy answers. “Are the girls in my class all spies, just because they skate for the Lowe rink? What about my friends here at Petra’s rink? They’re all working for the same spots at regionals. Do you see any of them glaring daggers at each other and being underhanded? No. Because they have to skate with these people for hours a day! We have to be friends! We practice three of four times a day; we can’t afford individual ice time for every practice, and there isn’t enough time in a day for everyone to have their own time! We have to share. We have to get along. And we help each other.” “Now Mr. Star Skater,” July poked Trowa’s chest with that, as if he didn’t know whom she was referring. “It seems that you have forgotten that lesson. You don’t have to do everything alone for it to be your own accomplishment.” “…I guess so…” Trowa said after a few minutes, watching the skaters downstairs work through their moves. He turned to July, “…thanks.” “What are friends for?” She quipped easily. But that wasn’t an easy thing for Trowa. He held her wrist for a minute, looking at her seriously, “No, I mean it… Thanks… I’m glad we’re friends. I didn’t know we were.” July laughed, shaking her head a little, “You really HAVE been cloistered up in your championship tower for way too long, Trowa. Seriously.” Trowa flushed in embarrassment, but moved away from the window, grabbing a bottle of water and sitting on the couch. She was right. He was being ridiculous… He didn’t think that Quatre was a spy before. Why should he now? And Quatre wasn’t sleeping with the guy, since he said that Heero was with the braided guy. He was being jealous, and over reacting. He was. He knew it. Shit. July walked around the practice room, swaying a little before she batted her lashed and smiled, “So…since we’ve established that we are friends… could you give me a ride to Saturday’s party?” she tried to charm. She was met with a blank stare, then Trowa clued in, “The school merging party?” “Yeah. That’s my school, you know. I go to the private school… we will be merging in with the local high school very soon… really big party… ringing any bells in that thick head of yours, Trowa?” “Yeah, I just… I don’t think I’m going. I don’t like parties.” July just gave a dramatic sigh, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find another way. But you really have to get out a bit more. Maybe Cathy wants to go?” “I’m sure she wants to go. I’m also sure she does not want to go with me,” Trowa said, tightening his lips into a thin line. He didn’t look happy anymore. Not at all. July frowned, sensing there was more to this. “Well, she probably doesn’t want to go with her brother as a date, I guess, but, there’s no need to be angry about it…” “She said she was glad she broke her leg. Because she finally got rid of me.” Trowa growled, putting his chin in his hand and glaring at the floor. “Ouch. I didn’t think she’d say it like THAT…” Trowa looked at July in shock, “You knew?” “Well… she talked a lot. I knew she was feeling trapped. It’s not your fault, Trowa. She would have been angry at anyone in your position!” “What did she say?” Trowa pushed, worried. Did Cathy tell July about the truth behind her accident?! “Well, she told me that after your parents died, she had to take on a lot of responsibilities that she wasn’t exactly ready for. You’re guardian doesn’t do anything but send you the money your parents had set up for you, and she was always complaining about that. And on top of all that, with you as a skating partner, you’re just around her constantly. She’s really dedicated to this ‘being popular’ thing. I think she does all her shit for attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if her whole skating career is all for the attention, too. I mean, she was thrilled with all the interviews and stories about her after the accident. She totally fed off it! It was disgusting to see. You’re really devoted, though, and totally committed to skating. It was bound to explode sometime.” “Oh.” Was all he could say. July patted his arm, “Hey… you should be glad that this happened when it did. You’re still young. Your career’s just beginning and you’re making a name for yourself. You can still get a different partner, or change divisions…” “We tried that. We tried different partners, remember? And IF I somehow manage to convince Quatre to skate with me again I still can’t compete with him! Regulations are pretty clear that pairs has to be one lady and one man. And I’m not moving to another city! I refuse to work under another coach!” July smirked, “You know no one will spoil you quite like Dimitri does.” She teased. Trowa had to smile, shrugging. “He’s very good with me. I can be… eccentric. He already knows all my ticks. He knows how to make me do anything, and he knows my limits and how to push them. He’s been my coach since my parents died, and he’s… well… I’m closer to him than anyone else in the world right now. I can’t handle losing him.” July hummed, “Well… if you won’t move right now, and you can’t skate with one of the other partners… that leaves… Quatre.” Trowa nodded, “I need to get him back. And not just for my skating, but because I was an asshole; I overreacted” “GREAT!” July clapped in delight, “You get Quatre back. You train with him. You can do some gala performances and lay low until Cathy goes public with quitting, then, you go through another round of finding a skating partner when things aren’t so screwed up in your life. This seems like the best scenario. You’d better start kissing ass and thinking up a really, really good way to impress him if you want him to take you back.” Trowa nodded solemnly, watching out the window at the skaters on the rink. One was spinning, leaning her head back, bowing low… “July. I need you to teach me how to do a layback,” Trowa said suddenly. He remembered the way Quatre had smiled that day, holding him and trying to show him how to do it. Quatre thought that laybacks wer pretty. And Trowa would have learned it properly in Iria hadn’t come home when she did. He had never mastered it. But Quatre loved the movement, loved watching Trowa flex, stretch, and move with such grace.. he knew Quatre would like it. And he knew that Quatre would understand the work it would take to learn it. If he could impress Quatre with anything, it would be a dance move! This was perfect! “…um, what for? Men don’t do laybacks! It’s only a requirement of the woman’s short program. It doesn’t even score points for a man to do it! Why would you want to learn it?” Trowa stood, though, nodding to himself, “That’s it. That’s what I have to do to get Quatre back. I need to show him that I listen to what he says. That I respect him as a dancer, you know? And I need to show him that I don’t need someone holding my hand the whole time. I need to show him that I can learn something on my own. I want to learn how to do a layback.” “But why? That doesn’t even make sense, Trowa! AND! It’s not easy for a guy to do. A girl’s center of gravity is near her hips, while yours would be near your shoulders. It’s a lot harder for a guy to bend back like that. I don’t even know if I can train you how! I’ve never trained someone before! And not that! I don’t even think Dimitri do it, and he’s been skating for years!” “Dimitri isn’t as flexible as me, and you know it, July. I can lean back like that. I can do it. I don’t need a training partner. I can do this. Just… Just spot me or something!” Trowa said, standing. He lifted his arms over his head and began to lean. But he didn’t get far before he was stumbling. July scoffed, “What was THAT, Trowa… God… Come here… Okay, first, go slow… bend with your whole body, not just your shoulders…” and July put her hand under Trowa’s back, giving him support as she talked him through the movement. She didn’t even notice where the time went, or that she’d missed the beginning of school, just to teach Trowa how to do a layback right. But she didn’t regret it. Trowa had mastered it enough by lunch so that July could leave, and he used the rest of the afternoon to work on the layback and think about Quatre. He decided that he’d go over after school… and beg him to forgive him. Hopefully, Quatre would smack him upside the head for being so stupid, and take him back. Hopefully.
In school, Quatre looked at the empty locker that he expected to see Trowa at. Obviously he was not there. And he wasn’t answering his text messages, or any of his calls last night. He sighed, and went off to his next class surrounded by his “friends”. As soon as they heard that he and Trowa had a fight, though, they were having a blast complaining about how that jock was “changing” Quatre, and that he was better off without him. They had no idea. Being around Trowa hadn’t changed him. Being around these people had. He had never been much into the crazy hair dye and the black clothes and facial piercings, but since he was dramatic, he was immediately shunted into the ‘artsy’ crowd. But he wasn’t artsy. He was an athlete. Just, a different kind of athlete than the football and basketball players at this school. Secretly, he couldn’t wait for the school’s to merge, because his friends from dance class would be coming here, as well as Heero and Duo. BING! Quatre grabbed for his cell phone and flipped it open to read the text message, hoping Trowa had finally gotten back to him. Instead, it was Jason, reminding him that Quatre promised to treat him to popcorn, too. As if he could have forgotten, the way that guy was reminding him every few hours? Quatre texted back that he hadn’t forgotten, and then looked over his text history. Over 20 outgoing texts to Trowa’s cell, and still nothing returned. He knew the skater was ignoring him, but he thought that Trowa would figure out eventually that Quatre wasn’t spying. Trowa knew him better than that. He would come to his senses soon enough. Or, at least he hoped he would. He sat down in gym class, looking around. He was unsurprised that Trowa was absent, and snuck his phone out once more to text: “Gym class isn’t as fun without you. R U done being mad yet? 3 Q” He hoped Trowa would talk to him again soon.
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